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Mothers and Daughters Pt. 01

By: deltablonde



The Park

The darkened subway tunnel surrendered to the brilliant sunlight as Nate climbed the concrete stairs two by two. His eyes squinted reflexively as he emerged into the St. Pauli Station glass dome entrance. Nate reached for his sunglasses and stepped through the doors onto the sidewalk. The sparse Sunday morning traffic let him cross the wide boulevard without waiting for the pedestrian signal. 

Summer was in full swing, and the empty park was bursting with bird songs and the scent of irises as Nate walked down the gentle grassy hill. The quiet park would soon fill with families and lovers under the promise of another hot, clear day in July. German cities make the most of the land, and in this case, the popular urban park was actually the rooftop of a multi-level underground municipal parking complex. Two glass vestibules on opposite ends of the grassy slope covered elevators and stairways that descended to the hidden parking levels below. A young couple was leaning on the vestibule ahead to his right. Nate would soon walk right past them. He sized up the couple as two teenage girls – unkempt, maybe homeless – a rare sight in this upscale neighborhood. 

Nate kept his head forward, but trained his sunglass covered eyes directly on the two girls as he assessed them as a low threat. As he walked passed, he realized they were young, attractive women in their mid-twenties, but their clothing betrayed a life on the street. Their faces were clean and fresh – that post-pubescent, unblemished skin youth take for granted. They had not been on the street for very long. 

One of the girls casually turned toward Nate as he walked past, and Nate stopped dead in his tracks. He now turned to face her, staring unguardedly for several seconds until she lost her nerve, and she turned away, retreating to the false protection behind the clear glass vestibule. 

"Briana?" Nate called out to the girl's back. His tone betrayed his skeptical curiosity – he was almost certain it was her, but these circumstances were wrong. The girl froze with her back to Nate. Her companion snapped her head toward Nate upon hearing Briana's name, and then she looked back to Briana. All three remain frozen in some weird time hiccup. 

It had been over ten years, but there was no mistaking that face. High cheekbones, deep set bedroom eyes, and a cute button nose. Nate estimated the odds of someone else looking just like her who freezes when hearing the name 'Briana' to be a bazillion to one. So he said it again, this time with certainty. There was not a whisper of doubt in his voice now. "Briana!"

She turned her head back slowly, but kept her feet planted with her back still facing Nate, twisting into a profile position. Her stretched white T shirt clung to her torso, revealing a compact, trim body; pleasantly bustier than Nate had remembered a decade ago. She was eighteen back then. Womanhood had been kind to her, filling out her youthful figure with all the right curves. 

The seat of her jeans were faded and threadbare, but Nate didn't think that was the way she bought them. "Briana," he said a third time, taking off his sunglasses so she would recognize him "what are you doing here?"

Now Briana moved her feet, and turned to face Nate, except she couldn't meet his eyes, and she stared instead at the ground between them. The knees of her jeans were worn and torn through. The plain white cotton T shirt was thin enough to see the contours of her bra straps. Her clothes were badly stained, especially near the bottom and left shoulder of her shirt. 

All three people stood motionless for a few seconds. Fifteen feet separated Briana from him. The unidentified blonde girl remained still to the side of the clear vestibule. "It's me," he said, open his palms toward her, "Nate."

"I know," Briana mumbled, still looking down. Nate realized she was ashamed to be seen in these circumstances.

"What are you doing here?" Nate asked again.

Briana waited a long time. "I ..." Briana finally spoke, but stopped. "We ...," she started, looking left to her friend. Briana stopped again.

Nate now looked carefully at her friend for the first time, he only then did he realize how attractive she was. Her long blonde hair was matted and messy, but her face was clean and fresh – a supermodel's face with penetrating eyes, high cheekbones, and sensual lips. She wore navy blue shorts and a short sleeve button up pale yellow blouse that was missing two buttons at the top. The blouse had a large stain down the right side and right arm. She was slim, even skinny. Through all the dirt and rumples, her plain beauty still shone. 

Without answering his question, Briana asked "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Nate gestured to the pie shaped glass apartment building across the street from the bottom of the park. 

"You live ..." Briana stopped. "You and your family?"

"No," Nate explained. "Theresa and I split. Sarah and Dillon are back in Canada. They're in university," Nate offered for her benefit.

"Oh my!" Briana's face lit up at the sound of the kids' names as she looked into Nate's eyes for the first time. "They were so small,"

"I know," Nate agreed. "It's been what, eight years?" he asked

"Ten," she corrected without hesitation. He did the math – that made her 28 years old. She looked younger than that. He would have guessed 22. All the kids looked younger to him, but that wasn't it. Briana had that youthful look every woman would kill for.

"I heard you were at school in London."

"Yeah," Briana looked down to the ground again as her face lost all its brightness. "That didn't work out so well."

"Sorry to hear that," Nate offered genuinely. He paused for a moment. "So, really, what are you doing here?" he asked again.

"Can I tell you over a coffee?"

"Sure," Nate answered automatically. "But the café across the street doesn't open early on Sundays," Nate realized. "You'll have to settle for my home brewed espresso." 

"Works for me," Briana smiled weakly. She spoke to her friend in German. Nate waited patiently as the girls spoke to each other. The friend did not want to come up for coffee – she would wait in the park.

Briana asked about Sarah and Dillon as they walked together through the park toward the apartment building. Sarah was finishing her third year bioengineering program with. Dillon was finishing his second year in computer gaming design. They were both living away – Sarah in Toronto, and Dillon on a scholarship in Chicago. 

Briana was thrilled to hear the updates about the children she cared for so many years ago. She loved those kids. She took care of them after school each day until Theresa or Nate came home. It was usually Nate, as Theresa's job kept her late most days. Other times Nate was away altogether on trips, and Briana often stayed with the children until late. Nate led Briana across the street toward a small plaza where empty park benches and tables waited. They crossed the plaza to the left side of a triangular glass wall and approached the main door. Nate swiped his wallet past a card reader beside the front door. The card reader detected an RFID card he carried inside his wallet, and after he entered the security passcode on the keypad, the electronic lock clicked and sounded a faint buzzer, and Nate opened the door open for Briana and followed her through. As she stepped past him, he noticed a distinct body odor that comes from wearing the same clothes for too many days in a row.

Nate ignored the elevator, as always, and climbed the stairs that circled around the square glass elevator shaft, taking the steps two by two to the second floor. Briana trotted up the stairs behind him. He turned right at the first floor and led Briana down the long hallway to the third last door on the right. He unlocked the door with a key and ushered Briana in. She whistled quietly in appreciation for the accommodations Nate was keeping. "Nice digs," she offered. It was a spacious two story apartment. They entered onto the lower floor with a kitchen, living/dining room, a powder room, and a bedroom Nate used as an office. Upstairs, beyond Briana's view, was a large bedroom loft and a full bathroom. 

Nate prepared the stovetop espresso maker while Briana walked through the living room to a door on the far glass wall. Curtains were drawn across the glass wall except for the closed door. She opened the glass door and stepped out to the balcony. It overlooked a narrow street with a string of closed shops and businesses visible on the far side. When Briana looked hard to the right, down the wall of the building, she could just see her friend waiting in the park. 

Nate pulled out his Samsung smartphone from his pants pocket, pressed a few buttons, and then tucked the phone into his front shirt pocket. It forced an unnatural bulge in Nate's shirt, but it served a purpose. "What's your friend's name?" Nate asked as he joined Briana on the balcony. 

"Pavlina," Briana answered without taking her eyes off her friend. Palvina had not noticed Briana on the balcony – she was sitting on a bench with her back turned partly toward Briana.

"So Briana," Nate rested his elbows on the balcony beside her, "what's going on?" Briana had to turn away from the distant park to reply. She looked at Nate for a long while, gauging how much to reveal. Nate regarded her silently, waiting for Briana to take the next move. She was pretty, but not what Nate would call gorgeous. He always liked her eyes – they had a spark in them. 

"We got fucked over," Brianna finally explained. "Friends stole my stuff, and cops arrested us on a bullshit charge."

"They don't sound much like friends to me," Nate offered coldly. 

"Yeah," Briana nodded. "Not anymore."

"I'm guessing they never were," he countered with a flat tone.

"You're probably right," Briana looked past him across the street vacantly. "I guess you never can tell." But Pavlina could tell. Pavlina saw it coming. She warned Briana she didn't trust the boys, but Briana just scorned Pavlina's paranoid silliness. 

"When did this all happen?" 

"I met Pavlina in Amsterdam last month. We hooked up with a couple of guys." Nate wondered if 'hooked up' included sex. He guessed it did. "Long story short," Briana continued, "we woke up one morning – the guys were gone, and so were our wallets and phones."

"Amsterdam," Nate noted, "that's five hours from here. How did you get to Hamburg?"

"Pavlina met someone who was driving to Copenhagen. We hitched a ride this far." Anticipating his next question, she continued. "Pavlina is originally from Prague, but she can't go back there for some reason. She's trying to get to Berlin. We made it this far."

"And you're tagging along."

"No," Briana snapped defensively, as if Nate had somehow insulted her. "I'm trying to go home, but I don't have a passport." Nate didn't understand how that answered his question. He assumed Briana's passport was stolen. Unfortunate, because the boys who stole it probably only wanted cash. They would have tossed the passport.

"Have you been to the consulate for a new passport?" Nate asked.

"No," Briana rubbed her eyes with the palms of both hands. She was visibly tired and upset. "The cops took it. I have until Friday to pay a huge fine, or they issue a warrant for my arrest." Clearly there was much more to the story. Nate left the balcony and went back to the kitchen to pour out two espressos. He shouted out to Briana, asking her how she likes her coffee. "Cream and sugar," she called back from the balcony.

Nate returned with two cups, set them down on a small, round, white metal table, and retrieved two folding chairs from the corner of the balcony, and set them up so they would look through the balcony's wrought iron balusters. He gestured Briana to take a seat. She sat down in the left chair and picked up her coffee. "I only have milk," Nate apologized, "no cream."

"This is good," Briana smiled after the first stip. She started to tell him the story. Briana and Pavlina were found by the Hamburg police on Saturday morning sleeping in a train station. The Hamburg cops have no sympathy toward tourists who bum around – probably for a good reason. They charged Briana and Pavlina with trespassing, and confiscated their passports. Briana always slept with her passport on her, so the Amsterdam boys didn't get that. 

Briana had to pay a 5,000 Euro fine within one week to get her passports back. Nate had heard of this problem before. The official name of the program was 'Ausländer equitiable Behandlung' (Foreign National Equitable Treatment, or AeB in Germany), but Nate just called it institutionalized extortion. If you pay a steep fine, the charges are dropped, all is forgiven, you get your passport back, and you must leave the country immediately. It only applies to misdemeanor charges. Serious criminal charges proceed through the normal judicial system, often with the foreigner being remanded in custody for the entire time.

Nate worked with an American who had been stung by the AeB program. He had an unpaid speeding ticket, and as a foreigner, was processed under the AeB program. He paid the 200 Euro speeding ticket and a 5,000 AeB fine, got his passport back, left the country, and re-entered Germany a week later without anyone raising an eyebrow. He still works with Nate in Germany. 

If you don't want to pay the AeB fine, your only legal option is to stay in country, hire a lawyer, and fight the charges, but the costs of defending a simple misdemeanor charge become prohibitive. First, you have to apply for a special visa, because the moment you are arrested, your tourist or work visa is void. Second, the special visa forbids you from working or traveling. So you must wait for months, maybe years for your day in court, while paying for a hotel room and an expensive lawyer, and you have no job. Everyone just pays the AeB fine and leaves – even if they are certain they can beat the original misdemeanor charge. Technically the AeB is an administrative program, not a judicial one, so there is no criminal record, no conviction. Just pay a city fine and all is forgotten.

The third way out is to flee. Then your case is referred to the criminal justice system, and the police issue a warrant for your arrest. They don't exactly hunt you down, but if you are ever stopped by German police, you will be thrown in jail for months, maybe years while you await two trials – the original misdemeanor charge, and the AeB skip trial, which they call fraud. Only the desperate and stupid risk that route. Nate knew Briana wasn't stupid, but he didn't know how desperate she was. 

In her two-plus years as a caregiver, Briana had developed an easy rapport with Nate – a bond of trust and friendship. She easily slipped back into that trusting nature as she relayed her story. Neither Briana nor Pavlina had money. Nate asked about her mother. A flash of something – fear or guilt – Nate couldn't read it – crossed Briana's face, and she said no, she could not contact her mother. That surprised Nate, because he knew Briana and her mother had been very close. He met Briana's mother twice, both times with Briana there. Nate's impression was Briana and her mother shared a strong mother-daughter bond, but Briana explained she could never ask her mother for help. She didn't say why. There never was a father in Briana's picture, at least not one that Nate ever knew of, so he didn't ask.

Nate asked where they slept last night. They didn't, according to Briana. They were up all night. As was Nate, for other reasons. He loved the Hamburg music scene. He was at music clubs until after four in the morning. Then he had a coffee, and visited the local farmer's market. Nate was walking home through the park when he happened across Briana and her friend.

"So," Nate summed up, "you have no place to stay, no money, and no food, and you need to come up with five thousand euro by Friday."

"It's worse than that," Briana said. "I have to prove to them I have a plane ticket home when I show up to get my passport back, so I have to pay for the airfare too."

"And what about Pavlina?" Nate asked. 

"Same thing," Briana shrugged. Doubling the already impossible feat was pointless, so she just shrugged.

"So you go back to Canada," Nate ventured, "and Pavlina goes to Prague?"

"Uh, hello!" Briana scorned sarcastically, "we have no money."

"But if you did," Nate was simply seeking understanding, "that's what would ..."

"Nate," Briana interrupted with a sparkle in her eye, "are you offering?" 

"Oh, no!" Nate stammered, trying to backpedal out of his unintended gesture of goodwill. "I was not offering. I was just just ..."

"You were just ..." Briana mocked him coyly. "Just what?"

"Well, you know," Nate faltered. "Just understanding."

"Is that just what you were doing?" Briana asked with a little girl's lilt in her voice. She put her coffee cup down on the small round table and stood up. Briana positioned herself in front of Nate, who was still seated. She leaned forward, resting both her palms on each of his thighs, and brought her face within a few inches of his. "Sounds like an offer to me," and she kissed him lightly on the lips. "Remember that night when your wife wasn't home?"

Nate had thought about that night for a long, long time. Theresa was away for the week on a rare business trip. Nate had worked late, and arrived home after the kids were already in bed. Briana was watching TV. Nate sat beside her on the sofa, and they talked about life as they often did. It was near the end of the kids' school year, and Briana had turned eighteen and announced this would be her last year looking after Nate's children. Soon summer would arrive, school would be over, and Briana would no longer see Sarah and Dillon – or Nate.

Talked turned into flirting, and flirting turned into casual touching. Nate remembered Briana leaned across his body to reach the TV remote control, and in her stretch across him, her T shirt pulled untucked from her jeans. Nate put his hand on her bare skin, slipped it around her back, and drew her in close. They kissed each other passionately. Kissing became into petting. With his hand still behind her back, Nate unfastened the clasp of her bra, and slid his hand underneath her shirt from her back to her front, and started fondling her perky, firm, C sized breasts. She sat up, grabbed both sides of her shirt, and in a single, swift motion, Briana pulled her shirt and bra together over her head and tossed them to the floor. 

She was five foot four, slim, brown hair with the most beautiful deep, brown eyes. Her breasts stood firmly at attention. The topless Briana wrapped her hands behind Nate's neck and they resumed necking while Nate cupped the perfect eighteen year old breasts with both hands. He played with her stiffened nipples while she kissed him hard. 

The warning bells sounded as Briana unzipped Nate's jeans, and she slid her trim, juvenile hand down his crotch and wrapped her slender fingers around his bulging cock. Nate gently pulled away. He wanted Briana badly, but the risk was too high. It was not his marriage – by then he and Theresa were just going through the motions. He was worried what would happen if his own children learned he had fucked their dearest babysitter – right there in their own house while they slept. Nate pulled Briana away, looked into her eyes, and he explained how badly he wanted this, but how wrong it was. They dressed in awkward silence, and Nate called her a cab. 

"Ever wonder what could have happened to us if you hadn't stopped me from fucking your brains out that night," Briana asked, and she leaned forward slightly, letting her lips touch his. "Now's your chance to find out," she whispered, and kissed him again. 


Mothers and Daughters Pt. 01



Nate pulled back. "Are you offering?" he asked. 

"Sure," Briana shrugged, and leaned forward to kiss him again. "You know I had a massive crush on you back then," she sighed whimsically after a long, soft kiss. "I would have done anything for you."

"And now?" Nate asked coolly.

"I'll still do anything for you," she cooed again, and leaned forward to kissed him again. He brought both hands up to her chest. Just like ten years ago, he slipped his hands beneath her dangling T-shirt, and cupped both her breasts in his hands through the fabric of her bra. 

"Anything?" Nate asked suggestively. 

Briana smiled again, and leaned forward into another kiss on his lips. "For five thousand euros and a plane ride I'll fuck your brains out," she whispered between kisses.

"And what else," Nate prodded.

Briana hesitated for a moment, and then smiled and kissed him again. "Okay, I'll suck you dry."

"And what else?" Nate said again. 

This time Briana straightened up, and Nate let go of her breasts. She fixed her shirt. "What do you want, Nate?"

"Well," Nate leaned forward in his chair, bringing him within inches of Briana standing there, "it seems to me it is more than just five thousand euros. I am going to feed you, house you, and clothe you for six days, and at the end of that, I am going to hand over five thousand euros for fines and another thousand for airfare. That's worth fifteen thousand dollars," Nate calculated roughly, overinflating the in-kind value of his contribution and the exchange rate. He put his right hand on the inside of her left thigh, above her knee, and started sliding it up her jeans inseam as he spoke next. "It seems to me this is an unfairly one-sided deal for just a quick fuck and a suck." He landed two fingers on the crotch seam of her jeans, and pressed into her pussy, gently rubbing his two fingers along the seam. Briana closed her eyes and held her breath.

Briana recovered after a moment. She opened her eyes and faced Nate. "What do you want?" she asked, hoping he would not stop rubbing her pussy.

"For fifteen thousand dollars," Nate ventured, "you tell me." Now he curled the tips of his fingers upwards, pressing the ends into the fabric of her jeans right over her clit, and rubbed harder. Briana moaned. 

"How about this," Briana looked him in the eye. "You do all those things, buy me clothes, and I will be your sex kitten – whatever you want, when you want. Kissing, fingering, fucking and sucking for six days straight."

Briana stood in silence as Nate moved his fingers to the fly on her jeans, and unzipped it. He unfastened the waist button, and pulled the front of her pants open. Using both hands, Nate started tugging her jeans down her legs.

"Nate!" Briana whispered loudly with obvious panic. She looked behind her at the street below and windows across. She looked at the slim metal balusters on the railing that would conceal nothing.

"I thought you said whatever I want, when I want."

"Please Nate," she was on the edge of crying. "Let's go inside."

Nate hooked his finger over the front center of her underpants and pulled it down until he saw the soft hairs beneath. "I accept your offer," he announced. "Anything, any time." With his other hand, he slipped two fingers down the front of her panties, and landed on her soft pussy lips. Briana's chest was heaving with rapid breaths of panic mixed with anticipated ecstasy. 

"Okay," she said, "but not out here."

Nate pulled his hands back. She pulled up her pants and refastened the jeans. "Let's go inside, then," Nate said, standing up. 

"What about Pavlina?" Briana asked as she nervously looked toward the park. Briana worried Pavlina might have seen what happened, but she was still sitting with her back to Briana.

"What about her?"

"Is she part of the deal?" Briana asked.

"Tell her to bring me an offer," Nate shrugged. 

"So you want two sex kittens," Briana checked for understanding. 

"It's not so much that I want, but that you seem to be offering," Nate quipped with a crooked smile.

"I don't think she'll go for it," Briana said, stepping into the apartment. 

"Doesn't matter," Nate deflected casually. "Either she does or doesn't."

"Could she stay here anyway, and you give her the money, and not be your ... kitten?" Briana asked.

"Not a chance," Nate answered instantly. Briana contemplated the options. It's not as though she and Pavlina were BFFs, but they made a pact back in Amsterdam to stick together. Briana realized that pact had to end sometime. They were going to part ways eventually – Briana wasn't expecting it happen so soon.

Briana had no hidden desire to service an older man, but she knew Nate. She once had a crush on him. Briana trusted him not to abuse his leverage over her. Pavlina had a colder edge towards men. To Pavlina, all men are liars and thieves with but one aim in life. And Pavlina didn't know Nate, let alone trust him.

"Let me go talk to her," Briana said to Nate. She wasn't asking his permission. It was her way of saying she would.

"You have to do something first," Nate corrected. "That is, if you and I still have a deal."

Briana expected Nate to tell her to drop to her knees and blow him. Her first call of duty. "What is it," she asked. 

"Take your bra off," Nate ordered. 

"What?" Briana asked, more out surprise. 

"You know what a bra is?" Nate asked sarcastically. She nodded sheepishly. "Take it off."

"Right here?" Briana fretted, looking around the living room. 

"Whatever," Nate shrugged. Briana interpreted that as license to choose, so she went to the powder room. Nate smiled in bemusement – Briana had just agreed to do everything for him, but somehow modesty was still important. Briana returned to the room a few moments later. Her thin T shirt clung nicely to her shapely body, clearly revealing the contours of her breasts and nipples. "Much better," Nate admired. "Where's your bra?"

"In my pocket," Briana answered. Nate told her to give it to him, and she fished it out of her jeans pocket and handed it over. He shoved it into his own pocket.

"From now on, no bras," Nate ordered. "They're ugly." As an afterthought, Nate added, "and tell Pallavina ..."

"Pavlina," Briana corrected him.

"Tell Pavlina, if she wants the same deal, no bra. She has to throw her bra out in the garbage before she even comes up to the apartment." Briana nodded in understanding.

Nate thought of something. "Do you have your AeB declaration with you?" Nate remembered his co-worker signed a declaration promising to pay 5,000 euro. Briana nodded. "Let me look it over while you talk to Briana." Briana shrugged, reached for her back jeans pocket, and pulled out a folded paper and handed it to Nate. "Maybe I can figure something out."

Nate explained there is a speakerphone at the front door. He wrote down his phone number for his apartment, and gave it to Briana. He told her to enter that number at the main door to call Nate. He would buzz her in then. Briana took the number and left. 

Nate watched the door close, and then unfolded Briana's AeB declaration. It was a computer printout with a long serial number on the top right and Briana's signature on the bottom left. Just like Nate's co-workers' declaration, Briana's was in English. Obviously the police just pressed a button, and out printed the English version. That way, the tourist could not argue they did not understand the German process. She had been charged with minor trespassing. An 'X' through a checkbox indicated the police had taken Briana's fingerprints. Nate flipped the page over, and found a black and white picture of Briana printed in a box and five small black and white photographs of Briana's fingerprints in smaller boxes. 

Nate went into his office, pulled out his keychain from his pant pockets, and unlocked the left bank of drawers of his desk. He retrieved a manila file marked 'Misc.' from the drawer and put Briana's AeB declaration in the file folder. Then he replaced the file folder in the drawer, closed and locked the drawer. 

Nate did not want to leave the declaration lying around. For one thing, he did not want to be responsible for misplacing it. He had a cleaning lady who came in three times a week. Nate doesn't believe she ever stole anything, but items would occasionally go missing for days, even weeks, until Nate happened across it in its 'put away' location that eluded common sense. It was also just as well to keep information like an AeB declaration away from the prying eyes of a cleaning lady with divided loyalties. So Nate locked it up in a secure place he knew he would remember.

Nate left the apartment, checking his pocket for his keys as he pulled the door shut. When he reached the elevator door, he walked past the glass elevator shaft and climbed up one more flight of stairs. He crossed the landing to a glass and steel door that led to a common balcony for the building residents. Nate pressed open the heavy door, and stepped onto the empty balcony. In his eight months living here, Nate had never seen anyone else on this balcony.

Nate stood back from the railing, with his back against the wall in the shadows, making him harder to see if the girls looked back toward the building. From his vantage point he could see the entire park, including the two girls talking on the park bench. From this angle, their backs were to Nate. By then over a dozen other early risers had gathered in the popular park on the bright Sunday morning. He remembered his cell phone in his shirt pocket, took it out, and paused the app.

Nate watched Briana and Pavlina for nearly half an hour. He frequently scanned the rest of the park while checking the seated girls. He was about to quit and go back to his apartment when the girls stood up and embraced each other. That was goodbye, Nate realized, and as Briana predicted, Pavlina would not take any part in the sex kitten deal. Still, Nate had a cute, young special girlfriend for a week. He was working and living on an expense account, and banking more than half of a very generous consulting fee. Nate saved just over ten thousand dollars, after all expense and taxes, every week. So a week of Briana's carnal devotion seemed like good value to Nate. Unlike most men in breakups, Nate's separation from Theresa cost him very little. They were both professionals with their own good incomes. They used the sale of the house for a college fund for the kids. Her money was hers, and his was his.

Nate's heartrate quickened at what he saw next. Pavlina and Briana broke their embrace. Pavlina took a few steps back and turned toward the building. Nate could now see Pavlina's face. She reached behind her back underneath her shirt for a moment. Then she tucked her left arm inside the sleeve of her blouse until it disappeared completely, and she looked like her arm had been amputated. She adjusted something inside the blouse, and then her left arm popped back out through the same sleeve. She repeated the maneuver with the right arm, and then Pavlina reached up inside the front of her shirt, and pulled down her bra. Nate would have both of them. His cock hardened instantly at the prospect. 

Pavlina and Briana discussed something while Pavlina held the bra in her fingers. They were too far away for Nate to hear. Finally, Pavlina shrugged, and tossed the bra into the garbage bin beside the bench. The girls turned toward the building, and started walking. They were both about the same height. Even from a distance, Nate could see Briana was curvy, and Pavlina was thin. 

Nate needed to get back to his apartment before they reached the front door. He pulled opened the heave glass door to the inside landing, when an idea struck him.

Around the corner from the stairs was a large closet Nate guessed he was not supposed to know about, let alone enter. There were no signs on the door – nothing saying keep out. He opened it a few months ago out of curiosity. He went back there presently, and found it still unlocked. It held supplies, equipment, towels, and other things for the spa attached to the apartment building. The spa was accessible to the public, but also had a private entrance from this apartment building. Nate retrieved what he was looking for, and then ran down the stairs and trotted back the long corridor to his apartment. He didn't need to hurry – Briana didn't call up until several minutes later he arrived. Nate pressed the intercom button to buzz them in.

A minute later a shy knock sounded at the door. Nate started up the cell phone app in his shirt pocket again, and opened the door. Briana smiled and stepped in. Pavlina stood nervously in the doorway with indecision. She avoided his eyes when she finally stepped in.

"Welcome back," Nate offered to Briana. 

She nodded, handing him a piece of paper. "Pavlina wanted you to look at her AeB paper too," Briana said. Nate took the folded piece of paper, and decided right away to deal with it properly. He excused himself, and went to his office and locked Pavlina's AeB paper with Briana's in his desk drawer. 

When Nate returned to the living room, Pavlina and Briana were talking in German. Briana turned to Nate and said "Pavlina has a couple of conditions. She wants the money first."

"No pay – no play," Pavlina offered in broken English. 

"And what else," Nate prompted for the other conditions.

"There are certain ... ah ... things," Briana blushed, "she won't do." Briana took a deep breath. "She won't ... ah ... you know ... up the ass," Briana squirmed awkwardly as she said it. "And no whipping, or ... you know, kinky stuff," she continued. "And always use a condom." Briana hesitated, and added, "and all the same goes for me."

"Okay" Nate nodded. "The sex restrictions are fine. Condoms are fine for fucking, but special girlfriends suck their boyfriends' bare cocks. As for the money, the banks aren't open today, and tomorrow is a bank holiday. I will give you half the money on Tuesday, and the other half on Friday, but the play starts now."

Briana translated Nate's counteroffer in German for Pavlina. She had taken German in high school, and had travelled Europe before. There were lots of words, like condom and ass fucking that she didn't learn in class. Still, she was able to describe what she meant, albeit sometimes tortuously. Pavlina asked a few clarifying questions, and they discussed something else for a minute. "Pavlina wants to know if you can get the money now." 

Nate shook his head. "Sadly today is the one day I don't carry 10,000 Euros cash on me," he said sarcastically. 

The girls spoke in German some more. "She said she will come back on Tuesday when you have the money," Briana said. 

"Sure," Nate retorted quickly. "But make sure she knows that she only gets two thousand Euros by showing up on Tuesday, and no airfare." Briana relayed the message in German. Pavlina looked at Nate with glowering eyes and scolded Nate with a savage tone in a language Nate recognized as Czech. Briana looked at him and shrugged. Pavlina looked back at Briana, and they talked some more in German. 

"She says if you don't give her the money by Tuesday she'll kick you in the balls and then leave," Briana translated. Actually, Pavlina said she'd cut Nate's balls off, but Briana offered a less severe translation. 

"I will give her half her money on Tuesday," Nate smiled, "and the other half on Friday, IF she lives up to her end of the deal. And," Nate continued, "I will purchase her airline ticket to Prague for her."

Briana translated for Pavlina. "Do you trust him?" Pavlina asked Briana in German.

"Completely," Briana replied, which didn't count for much after Briana so badly misread the Amsterdam boys. 

"Okay," Pavlina finally said to Nate in English, and started unbuttoning her stained yellow blouse. "Suck? Fuck?" she asked Nate as she pulled the shirt off, revealing two perfectly formed B sized breasts with surprisingly large, red nipples. Her torso was slim and petite. 

"Tell her not yet," Nate spoke to Briana. "You guys need to shower first, and then there's breakfast. And I am guessing we're all tired. We have all week – there's no rush." As Briana translated, Pavlina repeatedly looked back and forth between Briana and Nate. 

"Okay," the topless Pavlina nodded with her shirt still in her hand. 

Nate picked up a spa bathrobe he had borrowed earlier from the closet. While doing so, he turned off the cellphone app. There were two sizes of bathrobes – adult and children. He chose the child bathrobes, because they were very short – he wasn't sure if the robes were long enough to cover the girls' privates, which had its own charm for a special girlfriend. He handed the bathrobe to Pavlina. He told her through Briana's translation to go upstairs, take off all her clothing, shower, put on this robe, and bring all her clothing downstairs for laundry. 

Briana and Nate watched the topless Pavlina climb up the open stairway and disappear into the floor above. They stood alone in awkward silence. Nate took Briana by the hand and led her to the sofa. They sat together. He grabbed both sides of her T shirt with his hands and lifted up. Briana helpfully lifted her arms up, and allowed Nate to hoist the shirt over her head, revealing a naked pair of shapely D sized tits. Her body odor was noticeable with her arms upstretched. 

Nate caressed her firm breasts while Briana sat in silence. "Unzip my pants and reach in and grab it," Nate told her. She did as she was told while Nate continued fondling her tits. He felt her hand slip below the waistband of his underpants. She wrapped her delicate fingers around his hardened cock. "Kiss me," he ordered, and Briana leaned in and they kissed while Nate still fondled her naked breasts. 

"I think this is where I stopped," Nate pulled away. Briana looked at him blankly, and then a flash of understanding crossed her face. "What do you think would have happened next – if I hadn't stopped," Nate asked. 

"I know exactly what would have happened," Briana sighed. 

"Show me," Nate prompted. Briana resumed her kiss with Nate, and as she started flicking her tongue into his mouth, Briana started jerking Nate's cock up and down with her hand. Nate slid his right hand down her front to her jeans. He started unzipping her fly, but seated as she was, Briana made in impossible for him to pull the zipper all the way down. She stood up and pulled the zipper the rest of the way down. Then Briana unbuckled the waist button, and pushed the jeans off her hips down to her ankles. She pushed her shoes off, and then stepped out of the crumpled legs, leaving the shoes and pants on the floor. 

Standing only in her underpants, Briana leaned over Nate and unfastened his belt buckle and then his jeans button. Nate lifted his bum off the sofa as she tugged the jeans off his hips. She pulled his underpants down at the same time, letting his firm manhood salute her. She bent further at the hips, and took Nate into her mouth, sucking him hard before she started bobbing up and down. As she did, Nate reached with both hands to the sides of her underpants, and slid them down her thighs. When they dropped to the floor, Briana stepped out of them without losing a beat on her cock sucking rhythm. 

"Do you have a condom?" Briana asked, with her mouth still poised over his rigid cock.

"Upstairs," Nate nodded toward the stairs. She stood up and held out her hand to take his. Briana sported a full bush. Nate thought a special girlfriend should have a shaved pussy, but their deal was unclear whether that was covered.

Nate's jeans were still around his knees. He pushed them off his legs and then stood up. "You know I would have fucked you that night," Briana said, standing naked.

"I know," Nate replied softly. "That's why I had to stop."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 01



"I cried for hours after you sent me home," Briana stared vacantly. "You crushed my heart."

"I realized that later," Nate nodded, "but I am still certain I did the right thing. I would have been your first, right?"

"You were supposed to be my first and only," she smiled. "Because of you I slid down a vicious spiral of meaningless relationships, but none of them compared to how good I imagined you would be." He looked at her, and her eyes were smiling. Nate couldn't tell how much of that was true.

"Because of you I left Theresa," Nate offered solemnly. Briana gasped with a hand to her mouth. "Gotcha!" Nate smiled widely.

"You're bad!" Briana smiled back, completely naked. 

Nate thought for a moment. "Did you ever tell your mother about that night?" Nate asked.

"Sort of," Briana blushed. "I told her I tried kissing you, and you stopped me." 

"Do you think she understood that, by saying kissing, you meant you wanted to fuck me?"

"Oh, yeah," Briana nodded. She went silent for a moment. "Why?"

"Because the second time I met your mother was after that," Nate explained. "She was different. She was ..." he searched for the word.

"Appreciative," Briana ended his sentence.

"I think she was flirting with me," Nate said. 

"Oh, she was," Briana confirmed emphatically with a big nod. "You protected her little girl's honor. She was very appreciative," Briana said, emphasizing the word 'very'. "So," Briana mused, smiling into his eyes, "that's twice you gave up a certain fuck."

"I don't think so," Nate shook his head. He just didn't believe Briana's mom would fuck someone Briana had a crush on. She didn't seem to be that kind of vicious bitch.

"Did you ever think about fucking my mother," Briana asked. This conversation was turning weird. How did they get here? They were both naked, she had just been sucking his hard cock, and now they were talking about fucking her mom. Nate shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh come on," Briana goaded. "You must have thought about fucking my mom. I mean, come on – she's a total hottie." Nate didn't disagree there, but he couldn't admit to Briana he had fantasized about fucking her mom. In truth, Nate's fantasy was a three-way with Briana and her mom.

"Lots of guys do," smiled Briana, almost boastful. "Uh ... I mean ... they want to," Briana recovered, realizing that isn't what she meant. "I don't mean my mom's a slut." Briana paused in reflection. "One guy even came right out and told me he wanted to fuck me and my mom together." Nate had to look away. He felt his own face flush. "Oh my God!" Briana cried in disbelief, looking at Nate's face. "You want to fuck me and my mom together!"

Nate had to regain control of the situation. He grabbed the back of Briana's neck with his left hand, and pulled her hard into him, and kissed her on the lips. He reached between her legs with his right hand and mashed his fingers hard into her pussy. Briana moaned and tried to squirm away, but Nate tightened his grip around the back of her neck, slipped his left leg behind her, and pressed his right forearm into her belly, pinning her butt against his left leg. She was nearly immobilized. Briana was shocked at how strong Nate was, and how easily he overpowered her. She gave up resisting, and let Nate have his way. 

Just then they heard the door open above. Pavlina stepped out the bathroom and walked down the stairs with her laundry balled in her hand. She stopped on the first step when she saw Nate and Briana kissing and fondling naked at the bottom of the stairs. Nate looked up. He broke his grip on Briana and stepped back with an achingly hard cock. Nate motioned Pavlina to continue downstairs. 

The short bathrobe was perfect. From the floor below, Nate could see up her robe to her trimmed pussy. The inner thighs of her skinny-bitch legs never touched each other as she stepped down the stairs. Once Pavlina landed on the main floor, the robe only just covered her up. Briana watched Nate study the blonde, trim, nubile body walk down the stairs, and for an instant her heart filled with dark, jealous rage. She shook it off, privately admonishing herself over a ten year old crush. 

Nate self-consciously picked up his underwear and jeans and slipped into them, wrestling his erect cock into place. "You're next," Nate said to Briana, nodding his head up the stairs toward the shower. "Leave your clothes here and I'll start the wash." Without looking back, Briana felt Nate's gaze on her naked ass as she climbed the stairs. 

Nate picked up Briana's dirty clothing off the floor, and took Pavlina's clothes she brought down. He pulled open a bi-folding door next to the power room. Nestled in a small closet was a stacked washer/dryer combo with the front loading washer on the bottom. Nate tossed the girls' clothes into the washing machine, added some detergent, closed the front door, and started the wash cycle.

Nate stepped into the kitchen. There he found the other short bathrobe – the one he intended for Briana to wear. Nate shrugged privately, thinking there would be more fun watching Briana coming down the stairs naked. He left the second bathrobe on the counter. 

Pavlina was still standing near the bottom of the stairs, wondering what to do. Nate called her over, and Pavlina walked hesitantly toward him. Nate untied her fabric belt, and let the robe fall open. She had a neatly trimmed blonde haired pussy. Even though Pavlina was standing with her skinny legs together, Nate could see daylight between them. 

Nate opened her robe wide and rubbed her left nipple between his finger and thumb. Nate felt his cock stiffen again. Standing at five feet eleven inches, Nate was considerably taller than the five foot five Pavlina. He reached down, tilted her head up, and kissed her on the lips. She allowed it but did not kiss him back. "Kiss me," he said, and Pavlina understood those words, and she kissed him with an open mouth. Nate slipped his hand down her tummy to her sculpted pussy. He rubbed his middle finger along her midline while she continued to kiss him. Then Nate found her fuck hole, and pressed his middle finger up. Pavlina neither resisted nor encouraged him – she stood there still kissing him. Nate gently finger fucked her with just his fingertip for maybe a minute. 

Nate pulled his finger out, pulled away from the kiss, and put his pussy scented finger to Pavlina's lips. "Suck," Nate said, a word he knew she understood. Pavlina took his finger into her mouth and sucked it clean. Nate smiled. "Let's make some breakfast," he said and turned toward the fridge.

Nate was fortunate to have six eggs in the fridge. He was not expecting company. He had also purchased croissants in preparation for the long weekend. Nate gestured to Pavlina to grate some Emental cheese while he prepared the eggs and made more coffee. She left her robe wide open while she worked the cheese up and down the steel grater. He added Pavlina's grated cheese to the eggs, and mimed to Pavlina to slice some tomatoes. She took the sharp kitchen knife and cut two tomatoes into thin slices. Nate watched Pavlina set the table as he tended to his scrambled eggs on the stove. Every time she bent over to place a fork or knife on the table, the back of the short robe rose up, revealing a sculptured ass. 

As Nate predicted, Briana descended the stairs naked. She arrived downstairs just as he was serving out the eggs. Nate told her to take the robe in the kitchen. Briana looked at Pavlina with her robe open at the front. Briana put her robe on and tied it closed. They finished breakfast without much conversation. 

Nate told the girls to rinse the dishes off and put them in the sink. Briana translated for Pavlina, and they went to work. Nate was still shirtless. He picked up his stray clothes from the living room and tidied up when the girls cleaned the kitchen. When all was done, Nate ushered the girls upstairs to the bedroom.

The furnished apartment Nate rented came with a king sized bed – very unusual in Europe. In reality, it was two single bed frames lashed together with a king sized mattress on top. It looked odd, with two arched headboards mounted side-by-side, each with a wooden post and a sculpted semicircular panel between the posts. The arrangement left a bedpost at each corner, and a double bed post in the middle. 

Nate told the girls to drop their robes. They stood nervously beside each other, exchanging worried glances, until finally Pavlina let her robe fall to the ground. Briana untied her robe. "All the way off," Nate ordered, and Briana closed her eyes and shrugged the robe off her shoulders. Somehow saying it was a lot easier than doing it.

Nate faced Briana, and kissed her long on the lips. She kissed him back. He reached to his right, where the slim Pavlina was standing beside Briana, and slipped his fingers over her pussy. "Tell her to spread her legs wide open," Nate told Briana after pulling away from his kiss. She looked to her left and translated. Pavlina set her feet wide apart. Nate resumed his kiss with Briana. Nate reached for Pavlina's pussy, and with her skinny-bitch legs wide open, he had no trouble sinking his middle finger up her fuck hole right up to the base knuckle. He pulled his finger out of Pavlina's pussy, and held his cunt scented finger to Briana's lips, and told her to suck it clean. Briana wrinkled her nose in disgust, but then realized this was probably only the first of many unsavory things she would be told to do. Briana closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and enveloped his pussy soaked finger with her lips. To her surprise, it didn't taste nearly as horrible as she expected. 

When Briana cleaned his finger, Nate told both girls to lie in the middle of the huge bed beside each other, but one lying on her back with her head toward the top, and the other lying on her back with her head toward the foot of the bed. Nate stripped off his clothes. Nate climbed overtop the girls, naked on his hands and knees, and dangled his hardening man meat over Pavlina's face. He lowered his hips, and ordered her to suck him. He bent forward, so his head was over Pavlina's pussy in a 69 configuration, but then he shuffled his shoulders to the left, where Briana's face was waiting. He kissed Briana long on the mouth while he fondled her perfect tits. Meanwhile Pavlina brought her hands into action along with her mouth, and started sucking Nate properly. 

Nate pulled out of Pavlina's mouth, carefully crab walked over the girls without stepping on them, spinning himself around in the process, this time lowering his cock into Briana's mouth. She engulfed him heartily and expertly went to work quickly on his shaft with her hands. Like before, Nate reached across and kissed Pavlina. But instead of playing with her smaller tits, Nate reached down between her legs and began fingering her pussy again. She instinctively closed her legs shut, but Nate said no, and so Pavlina spread open her legs like before, and let Nate's finger back in. He finger-fucked Pavlina's tight pussy in rhythm to the sucking action he took from Briana's loving mouth. 

Nate's balls started churning. He stood up and retrieved a box of condoms from a drawer in the night table beside his bed. He unwrapped a rubber, and sheathed his hardened fuck rod. Nate positioned himself between Briana's open legs, and drew the tip of his cock to her awaiting pussy. Nate started with tiny pumps to make sure Briana's lubrication was working, and once he felt the tip glide in and out smoothly, he drove deep into Briana. She let out a long moan as Nate started pumping his hips into her pelvis. He reached across to Pavlina's pussy, and again finger-fucked her in rhythm to his own fucking motion. 

Suddenly Nate pulled out, and repositioned himself over Pavlina's mouth, still with the condom on, and told her to suck. She took Nate's sheathed cock stained with Briana's pussy juices into her mouth, and sucked him heartily. He played with Briana's tits while Pavlina sucked his sheathed cock. After a minute of sucking, Nate repositioned himself, this time between Pavlina's legs, and drove into her much tighter pussy. 

Two minutes of fucking Pavlina's intensely tight pussy pushed Nate over the edge. He pulled out of her pussy, pulled the condom off his impending geyser, and repositioned himself over Briana's mouth, and ordered her to bring him home. She brought both hands into action, and within seconds Nate unloaded wave after blissful wave of hot semen downwards into Briana's sucking mouth. Unaccustomed to taking a wad from above while lying on her back, Briana sputtered and coughed violently when his jism spewed down the back of her throat into her windpipe. As she hacked and wheezed, Nate's cum drooled out her coughing mouth and dripped down both cheeks into her freshly washed hair. Her coughing fit continued long after Nate pulled out. 

Briana got up, and padded naked out the door, went downstairs, and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen to help rid her of her sperm cough. While she was gone, Nate shooed the naked Pavlina off the bed and he pulled the duvet down. When Briana returned, her coughing fit at last quelled, Nate ordered both girls to bed. Then he joined them, sandwiching himself between the two naked girls, and pulled the duvet up over their bodies. 

Nate turned onto his side and choreographed a spoon sandwich with Briana behind him and Pavlina in front. The girls and Nate were all tired from lack of sleep, and Nate's post-orgasmic bliss was melting into a mellow calm. He felt the soft pressure of Briana's tits press gently into his back while he slipped his hand down Pavlina's ass, and pressed his fingers between her thighs. As he pushed, Pavlina opened her legs, letting Nate nestle his fingers against the outer lips of her soft pussy. She closed her legs again, locking Nate's fingers firmly in place. 

Nate rested his head down on the pillow, and the girls did the same. They all drifted off to sleep in a three-way post coital embrace.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 02



Shopping Spree

Pavlina awoke at one in the afternoon. She discovered herself disentangled from the other bodies during their sleep, so she was able to deftly slide off the large bed without waking Nate or Briana. 

Pavlina tiptoed across the short side of the loft bedroom toward the bathroom. She stopped and looked back to the bed. Nate was sleeping on his back, and Briana had rolled toward him with her left breast resting gently against Nate's chest and her arm slung over his far shoulder. To Pavlina, Briana's sleeping face appeared peaceful, content. 

Pavlina padded quietly into the bathroom and shut the door. After she flushed the toilet, Pavlina checked the bathroom for medicines or other items out of pure curiosity. The only thing she found of interest was some women's makeup in the third drawer of the vanity. There was none out on the counter, suggesting it was leftover from a past girlfriend. 

She opened the bathroom door quietly, and peered around the corner toward the bed. The duvet position had changed, now covering the sleeping pair more thoroughly. Nate, still on his back, had rolled his head toward Briana. Pavlina couldn't be certain, but the contours of the thick duvet suggested Briana's arm was now draped lower across Nate, with her hand possibly near his hips. 

Pavlina crept down the stairs without a sound. Aware that sounds in the living room might be easily heard in the open loft bedroom, she stealthily moved about the first floor apartment. She came across Nate's folded pants, and felt through the pockets. Pavlina found what she was looking for, and pulled out Nate's wallet. There were 60 Euros folded inside – not enough to warrant a breakaway, given Pavlina's need for over 5,000 Euros by Friday. She found a Canadian driver's license, and looked at the picture of a younger Nathaniel Edward Traymore, born 17 February 1970, who lives in a city called Ottawa – she had never heard of it. He had eight credit cards, two of them gold and one platinum. Some were Canadian issued, some US, and some European. 

Palvina found another official looking government card. Her English was not good. It had something to do with arms of fire. She put the mysterious card back.

Pavlina put back the wallet in Nate's pants and folded them back onto the chair where she found them. She looked about the apartment, and headed for the office. Still naked, Pavlina remembered the washing machine, and opened the bi-folding doors to the laundry closet. Their wet clothes were in the washing machine, having finished its cycle. She moved them to the dryer, and started it. In the meantime, Pavlina put on her short, white robe. 

Pavlina closed the dryer and closet doors, and walked into Nate's office. Looking about, she considered where to start. There was a laptop case beside the desk. Pavlina rested the case on the office chair, unzipped it, and found two laptops. She removed the first one, a Toshiba. She placed the laptop on an empty spot of the desk. Pavlina gently rested the laptop case back on the floor with its other laptop still in it, sat on the chair, and opened up the Toshiba laptop. To her surprise, she was challenged for a password the instant she powered up the computer. Normally it takes a few seconds or even a few minutes for the operating system to splash up the password page, but this laptop required a password on power-up. Pavlina was out of her depth – she didn't know about power-on passwords, or how to get around them. She hit the return key without entering a password – maybe there was not password. The screen issued a big warning on a safety yellow background:

PASSWORD MISMATCH. You have 2 more attempts. Your picture has been taken and recorded.

Pavlina read the English message carefully. She parsed it three times until she was certain she got it right. "Souložit!" Pavlina swore too loud. She powered off the laptop, closed the lid, stowed it back in its case, and returned the zipped up case to its original location. Now she looked around the room more carefully. There, hiding in plain sight in the upper back corner of the room, was a surveillance camera. 

"Souložit!" she said again, whispering this time as she stared straight into the security camera lens. Not good. Pavlina quietly stepped out of the office. She found herself in the living room, shaking badly. It wasn't being caught snooping. It was the whole thing. She's used to love-em-and-leave-em guys, like the boys from Amsterdam, but for someone to steal all her money and phone was a new low, even for a guy. And now she was whoring herself out to some whack job in Hamburg to raise enough money to pay for a bogus fine because she took shelter in a train station during a rain storm and fell asleep on a bench. And the bitter icing was she had to pay her own way back to a country that she fled to escape the midnight prowling of uncle Jakub while Pavlina's mother lay in her bed in the next room.

It didn't help that little miss suburbia was living out her adolescent crush. Briana had no idea what real life is like. Pavlina suspected Briana felt safe surrendering to Nate, even though to Pavlina, he was just another Jakub. 

She went to the kitchen and opened the second drawer. There she pulled out a knife – the same knife she used earlier to slice tomatoes. It was a straight-edged knife, not serrated, and yet it sliced through the tomatoes cleanly and effortlessly. Pavlina had never handled a knife so sharp before. She held it in both hands for a long time, contemplating how this knife might find its mark.

"Are you looking for something?" Nate asked in English from the bottom of the stairs. Pavlina shrieked with a startled jump, dropping the knife on the floor. 

"Jsem?ezání n?jaké raj?ata" Pavlina protested unconvincingly in Czech. Nate had no idea what she said, but he could tell he startled her badly. Now Pavlina looked at Nate. He was dressed in casual dark slacks and a button-up striped grey/black shirt. He was in sock feet, which explained how he descended the stairs without her hearing. Pavlina wondered if he could be carrying a gun right now. Perhaps Nate had an ankle holster – she had seen that on American TV. Canadians were just like Americans, weren't they? She couldn't tell looking at his pant legs.

Pavlina bent over and carefully picked up the fallen knife by the handle. She rested it back in the drawer, and walked to the living room, staring at the floor. She sat down on the couch without looking at Nate, and said nothing.

Nate remained standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at Pavlina, who was still staring at the floor. Her straight blonde hair tenderly adorned her slender shoulders. Without makeup, she was naturally beautiful. 

Just then he heard Briana start down the stairs naked. Briana felt self-conscious as Nate watched her come down the steps, even though he had already seen everything up close. She continued down the stairs. "What's going on?" Briana asked when she got to the bottom.

"I don't know," Nate answered flatly. "I was hoping you could talk to her." 

Briana saw Pavlina in her short bathrobe, looked around the room, and found the other one crumpled on the floor. She walked over and pulled it on and tied the fabric belt around her waist. Then Briana sat beside Pavlina, who was still looking at the floor. They spoke briefly, mostly because Pavlina offered only terse, one-word answers to Briana's questions. "She's not saying," Briana relayed what Nate already knew. 

"Maybe this was a mistake – the two of you," Nate offered to Briana. She didn't translate, but she was thinking the same. 

Pavlina blurted something out in Czech, stopped herself in mid-sentence, and started over in German. She spoke for some time before Briana translated a concise synopsis. "She said she went into your office and opened your computer. She is very sorry." 

Nate smiled, now understanding Pavlina's unsettled demeanor. The security system on his laptops was very robust, and he realized she must have encountered only the first tier of a multi-modal regime. "Tell her I understand she is curious about me. If she wants to know anything about me, she should ask. But under no circumstances is she, or you, allowed to go into my office again without my permission."

Nate watched Pavlina nod as Briana translated. At the end, Pavlina looked up at Nate for the first time since they all awoke and said "Okay" in English. Then she said something to Briana in German.

"She wants to know if you're a cop."

"No," Nate shook his head. "I am a consultant." Briana didn't know the word for consultant in German. She translated the best she could, explaining he was hired to help companies do business. That was the full extent of Briana's knowledge of consultants. Pavlina nodded without really understanding.

"It's one thirty," Nate announced to the girls. "Our plan for this afternoon is lunch, then shopping." Then Nate stopped and listened. He looked at Pavlina. "Did you turn on the clothes dryer?" He immediately realized she didn't understand, so he walked to the closet and opened the bi-folding door. Sure enough the dryer was running. He turned to Briana. "Tell her thanks – I forgot to do that."

Briana translated to an expressionless Pavlina. "What kind of shopping?" Briana asked Nate without waiting for Pavlina's reply.

"You girls badly need some new clothes. It's part of your deal, remember?" Nate reminded Briana of her offer. Briana translated for Pavlina. The girls were happily agreeable to Nate's plan. 

Nate went upstairs, two at a time. In the upstairs bathroom, he rummaged through the drawer with his ex-girlfriend's makeup, and returned downstairs with an eyeliner pencil. He told Pavlina to stand up, who did without the benefit of Briana's translation. Nate crouched in front of Pavlina, bringing his face within inches of her just barely covered pussy, and he used the eyeliner pencil to draw a long horizontal line across the inside front of her left thigh, half way between her crotch and her knee. Then Nate crouched before Briana and drew the same short horizontal line at the same position on Briana's left leg. "Okay," Nate nodded to both girls as he stood up, and shoved the eyeliner pencil into his back jeans pocket. The girls looked at each other with bewildered curiosity. "Let's have some lunch," he prompted without explaining the purpose of his markings, and walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge door, and surveyed its contents for ideas. 

"Can we go out for lunch?" Briana asked. 

"Sure," Nate shrugged, "but your clothes aren't dry. I figured we'd have lunch here while you wait."

"I wanted a shower anyway," Briana explained, bitterly aware of his jism that she spewed everywhere in her coughing fit that had dried into a crusty glaze on her face, neck, and in her hair, "and I'm guessing Pavlina does too." Pavlina looked up at Briana with paranoid curiosity when she heard her name in conversation. 

"Sorry," Nate shook his head. "There is a one-shower per day rule in this building, you both had yours." Briana ran her fingers through her hair, stopping at tangles where bundles were cemented together by dried semen. Briana translated for Pavlina the one shower per day rule. Pavlina shrugged like she didn't care. "You don't have cum all over your hair," Briana whined in English. 

Nate looked at the girls. "Coffee?" he asked. 

"Ya, danke," Pavlina replied. Nate set up the stovetop espresso maker and lit the gas stove. He rummaged through his cupboard before finding a bag of ginger snap cookies – the really crisp and spicy ones, like his grandmother used to bake. He plated some cookies, and put the milk, sugar, and a few small spoons on a tray. As he waited for the espresso maker to steam its coffee, Nate opened the fridge again and took inventory. He would need a lot more food with three people living in the apartment. 

When the coffee was ready, Nate emptied the espresso maker into three small cups. He brought the tray to the living room. The girls were sitting on the sofa. Nate set the tray on the coffee table. Pavlina put some milk and sugar into her coffee, stirred it, and took a sip. "Gut," she said in German, lifting her cup toward Nate in a salutation gesture, and took a cookie. Briana, still sulking from the no shower rule, took her cookie and coffee in silence. 

Nate took a store-bought quiche out of the fridge and cut it into six pieces. He put the quiche and three plates and forks on the coffee table, and told the girls to help themselves. He took a piece of quiche for himself, and retreated to his office with his lunch and coffee. He set up his personal laptop – a Samsung, not the one Pavlina tried to turn on. It too had a power-up password protection system that was part of a whole disk encryption utility. Nate typed in his pass phrase, and watched the display grind through its start-up routine before the Windows log on screen appeared. He entered the different windows password, and checked his email – nothing significant. Nate scanned the local news portal while he sipped his espresso. 

He finished his quiche, and returned to the living room to check on the girls. "Pavlina asked me why you do woman's work when you have us to do anything for you." Nate thought about Pavlina's view of the world, where her culture provides much clearer demarcations between women's work and men's work than Nate was accustomed to. 

"I don't want her to poison me," he answered, thinking about discovering Pavlina holding the knife in the kitchen less than an hour earlier. Briana chortled a brief laugh, but then stopped with a deadpan face when she realized Nate might be serious.

"She's not dangerous," Briana argued Pavlina's defense.

"Everyone is dangerous," Nate corrected her, "in the right circumstance."

Briana took another piece of quiche, as did Pavlina. Nate took the last piece and returned to this office and continued reading the local news. 

Twenty minutes later, Pavlina and Briana appeared at the door together. "Is our clothing dry?" Briana asked. Nate told her to check. His experience is the dryer often runs longer than it needs to. She opened the bi-fold door, and then pulled the dryer door open, which stopped the tumbling automatically. She reached in and pulled out some clothing at random, and felt them. They were warm and dry. Briana took her clothing out and went into the powder room across from Nate's office, and closed the door to change. Pavlina dropped her bathrobe to the floor while Nate watched, and standing naked she pulled her clothing out of the drier and put them on there in the hallway.

They found their shoes while Nate shut down his laptop. He checked his keys were in his pocket as they left the apartment. Nate used his key from the hallway to engage the second deadbolt lock. They walked down the long hallway, downstairs, and then stepped outdoors in the warm afternoon sun. Nate led them over a five minute walk to the Baumwall subway station, which was actually an elevated rail line at this particular point in its circuit. They climbed the stairs to the overhead train platform. Five minutes later they boarded the front car of an eastbound train, and sat near the driverless front, looking out the front windows. The modern, clean train passed over smaller buildings, and wove its way through the taller structures. The girls enjoyed sitting at the front, watching the world go by from this elevated view. After the next stop, the train started its descent, leaving its elevated tracks to return to its subterranean habitat. Ahead, Nate and the girls could see only water all around, and both Briana and Pavlina gasped with horror, knowing something had gone horribly wrong, as the train was about to plunge into the watery depths of the canal. Instead of crashing into the water, the train glided through a tunnel opening that rose above the canal water level. It was like driving down a huge inclined straw with its open end in the middle of a lake. 

Three stops later, Nate shepherded the girls off the train at the Mönckebergstrasse underground station. An assortment of boutiques and cafes awaited them on street level as they climbed the subway stairs into the touristy shopping district. 

At three in the afternoon, they walked down Mönckebergstrasse street to a department store called C & A. He led them down the stairs to the basement floor, which had clothing geared mostly to teenage girls. Pavlina observed Nate seemed to know his way around a department store well enough to go directly to teen girls' clothing – something she was unaccustomed to seeing in men. Except for not speaking the language, Nate seemed to fit in like a local.

"Okay," Nate explained to the girls in English. "You each have a budget of 150 Euros." Briana translated after each sentence. "You can buy tops, skirts, and dresses. No pants, jeans, shorts, or skorts." Briana didn't know the translation for skort, so she just said the word. Pavlina nodded. "No underwear, bras, shoes, jewelry, or accessories – only tops, dresses, and skirts. Also, you must choose at least one strapless top or dress, and at least one sleeveless top or dress. No long sleeves. And the bottom of every dress or skirt you choose cannot go below the mark I put on your legs." Nate waited for the last translation. Pavlina looked at Nate with a mixture of surprise, understanding, and condemnation when Briana translated that the mark on her leg meant she could only buy short skirts and dresses. 

"I will come back in one hour to pay for your clothing. Remember the rules," Nate reminded them, "and you have a budget of 150 Euros each." The girls nodded. "I will pay for everything that meets the rules. The clothing you buy today is the clothing you will wear for the rest of the week." 

Nate went up the stairs, and left the store to do some of his own shopping. He returned to the C & A teen department at four. He found the girls looking at some sundresses that were too long for his rules. They saw him, and walked him to two small piles of clothing they had selected. He picked up each garment, piece by piece. Briana had chosen a short yellow sundress with pale blue flowers, a white tube top, a black skirt, and a blue pinstripe short-sleeve button-up shirt. The dress and skirt appeared to be short enough. The total was 138 Euros. 

Pavlina selected a long black tube top with a matching short tube skirt, a red skirt, a white T shirt, and a tie-bottom cut-off short sleeve dark and light blue shirt. Her total was 109 Euros. Nate paid for the lot while Pavlina casually tried to spy his credit card passcode, but he covered his hand with his wallet. 

The clerk handed each girl a shopping bag with their items in it. Once everything was paid for, Nate reached into his own bag of purchases and pulled out two black thong panties with string hips and a center string up the ass crack connected to a small triangular patch of fabric to cover the front. There was barely enough material to cover a pussy. He handed one pair to each girl. He told them to take the underwear, and select one outfit from what they just purchased, go to the change room, take off everything they are wearing now (except their shoes and socks), and put on their new outfits. Briana translated, and the two girls discussed which outfits to wear. Briana selected the yellow sundress, and Pavlina selected her black tube top and tube skirt. There was only one change room available, so they went in together. Five minutes later, they emerged in their new outfits.

Briana's sundress was light and loose at the bottom hem. It swayed gently as she walked, suggesting a sensual schoolgirl innocence. Pavlina was just the opposite – her outfit was sleek and tight to her body. The top and bottom tubes overlapped at her tummy, and were so well matched in fabric and color, the ensemble looked like a strapless mini-dress. The clingy stretch fabric hugged the shape of her small, firm boobs and straight, narrow hips. Nate could just see his pencil mark on both girls' legs, confirming the dresses met regulation length. They were indeed short dresses, and both girls looked very sexy. He took their old clothing and dropped it in his shopping bag. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 02



Nate ushered the girls up the escalators to the third floor of the store. As they rode the escalator, he stood behind them, checking out the dual up-skirt action. When Briana moved about, her summer dress flared, giving Nate a clear view of her bare ass. The string of the thong underwear was hidden between her cheeks, creating the illusion she was walking around commando. One on the third floor Nate told the girls to pick out a wrap or shawl they can wear at night when it gets colder. There would be no relief for those bare legs. Pavlina picked out a black poncho style wrap that looked warm. Briana chose a blue shawl that matched the flowers on her dress. Nate forked out another 62 Euros for the two garments, and the girls each put their new clothing in their own shopping bags. 

At four thirty they arrived at a shoe store a few stores down the street. Stores close at five sharp on Sundays, so the girls had to pick out some high heeled shoes quickly. Pavlina settled on an open toe black spike heel, and Briana selected a more sensible blue closed shoe with a broader heel. Nate winced at paying 170 euros for the two pairs of shoes. 

The girls wore their high heel shoes out the store, leaving their socks and sneakers in Nate's shopping bag. As they walked down the street, the high heeled girls' legs appeared considerably longer, making their already short skirts seem even shorter. Nate paid attention to the other pedestrians on the street, and the girls were definitely attracting guarded attention just by walking down the street.

He hailed a taxi on Mönckebergstrasse, and asked the driver to take them to the St. Pauli waterfront park. The three of them climbed into the back seat with Nate in the middle. As the taxi driver navigated the ten minute drive, Nate put a hand underneath each girl's short dress, and started rubbing their pussies through the paper thin fabric of their thong panties. To cover his indiscretion, each girl placed their shopping bag over her lap. He reminded them of anywhere, anytime, and so the girls widened their legs and let him slip a middle finger underneath each panty and he lightly probed both their fuck holes. 

If the cab driver noticed their cross-town finger-fucking, he didn't let on. He let the three of them out along the promenade along the Elbe River at 5:20. Nate paid with cash while the girls straightened their clothes. The promenade is about a mile long developed area along the Elbe River. Known better as a heavy industrial port, Hamburg has slowly redefined its image with promenades and parks along the waterway, displacing some of the uglier cityscapes with slightly less ugly concrete parks. Still, it was a tourist destination, and a spot for the locals to converge at the many festivals held there each summer. 

They walked the plank onto Das Feuerschiff (The Lightship), a trendy restaurant on board a permanently moored boat. Nate made a reservation for 6:30, which gave the trio just over an hour to walk along the promenade and work up an appetite. They left the ship, and walked west, under the elevated Baumwall subway station where they started the day's journey, and across a pedestrian bridge to a residential complex. While not exactly crowded, the promenade was well traveled by other pedestrians enjoying the warm July walk. They turned back at the bridge, and made it as far as the St. Pauli shops. By then it was nearly 6:30, so Nate U-turned again and led the girls to the Lightship floating restaurant again. 

The hostess offered a choice of eating inside or outside on the deck. The girls chose the deck, and they had the option of a traditional four seat table, or a narrower table with all three seats on the same side, allowing everyone a view of the Elbe. Nate elected the latter table, not only so everyone could view the water, but also so he could sit between the two girls and let his fingers play. As soon as they sat down, Briana complained her feet were killing her, and she slipped off her new high heeled shoes. Pavlina did the same.

The Lightship is a respectable tourist trap with prices to match. It had been weeks since the girls could afford a restaurant meal of any kind. Nate ordered some French St. Emilion wine, and after the young, handsome waiter poured their glassed, the three cheered to the shopping adventures behind them, and to the week ahead. 

Nate didn't waste any time sliding his hands under the girls' dresses – first Pavlina, then Briana, but never both at the same time. When he was confident no one was watching, he'd slip a finger or two under their panties and play. The girls accommodated his wanderings with discretely open legs. 

Appetizers, entrees, and desserts took nearly two hours, augmented by a second bottle of wine. Conversation was stifled with translation for Pavlina's benefit, but Nate insisted that she not be excluded from the conversation. Pavlina clearly appreciated that, and her assessment of Nate rose a little, perhaps even a half notch above the sewer scum she reserved for most men. But he was still very much an asshole.

After Nate paid the bill, again concealing his credit card passcode from Pavlina's prying eyes, he said "before we leave, both of you take your panties off and leave them on your chairs." Briana asked to go to the washroom and take them off there to attract less attention. Nate allowed it, and the two girls put their shoes on and trundled off together, realizing on their unsteady way that perhaps they had consumed more wine than they realized. When they returned, they each held their tiny panties balled up in their hands. Nate told them to unfold them and lay them out properly on the seat so the waiter will find them. The completed their tasks sullenly.

Nate reminded Briana and Pavlina to gather their shopping bags, and then he led the girls off the boat with his own bag in hand. The walk back to Nate's apartment building took less than ten minutes. It was a quiet neighborhood with rarely any trouble, so Nate felt little concern walking the streets with two lightly clad, attractive young women after eight in the evening. He unlocked the main door to his apartment building using his electronic key card in his wallet and pass code, and gestured the girls to lead the way up the stairs. Nate followed closely, and as the girls climbed the stairs in their high heels, Nate fondled both their bare asses beneath their short dresses. 

Nate opened the door to his apartment and ushered the girls in. After he closed and locked the door, Nate shepherded the girls to the middle of the room. They all put their shopping bags on the coffee table. Nate kissed Briana long on the lips while he reached his right hand to Pavlina's tube top, hooked two fingers over the top rim, and pulled it down. Pavlina's perky tits bobbled momentarily as Nate freed them from their fabric bonds. Nate fondled one of Pavlina's tits, then the other, while he continued kissing Briana. He squeezed Pavlina's red nipple between his thumb and finger and rolled it slightly.

Nate broke Briana's kiss, and moved over to Pavlina. He kissed her hard on the lips while he reached down with his left hand, lifted up Briana's summer dress, and started petting her pussy. He rubbed her clit, and Briana began lightly rocking her pelvis into his hand to increase the leverage on her little firecracker. 

Nate put one hand behind each of the girls' heads, and he turned their faces toward each other, and gently pressed their lips together. Briana jerked her head back. "What are you doing, Nate?" she asked with an accusatory tone, since she knew exactly what he was doing.

"Whatever I want, when I want," Nate reminded her. "Kissing, fingering, fucking and sucking for six days straight," he quoted her own words back to her.

"But not ... not ... not between her and me," she stammered, pointing her index finger at Pavlina. Pavlina remained silent through the exchange. 

"That was never one of your restrictions," Nate countered. "Don't start changing the deal on me now, or I will change the deal on you, and you won't like it."

Briana looked hopelessly at Pavlina, who still stood there with her tube top pulled down below her naked little tits. She had decoded the gist of the conversation. "Just do it and get it over with," Pavlina spoke in German to Briana. "We will cut his balls off after he gives us the money," she cooed with a sweet, schoolgirl smile, knowing Nate couldn't possible know what she was saying in German. 

Briana recalled what Nate had told her earlier – everyone is dangerous in the right circumstance. A chill ran up her spine. Briana shook it off and pushed the thought out of her mind. She looked to Nate. "Okay," she mumbled feebly.

Pavlina took control. She held Briana's face between her hands and engaged in a long, erotic girl-on-girl kiss. While they kissed, Nate grabbed Briana's right hand and pressed the palm of her hand onto Pavlina's naked left tit. Then he grabbed Pavlina's left hand, lowered it between Briana's legs, and pressed her fingers onto Briana's naked pussy under her dress. He told the girls to play with each other, and they started caressing each other while Nate sprung a massive hard-on.

While the girls kissed and groped each other, Nate pulled Pavlina's tube skirt down to her ankles, and she stepped out of it. Then he pulled her tube top down, past her hips, down her legs, and Pavlina stepped out of that, leaving her naked except for her black high heels. Nate pulled the girls apart and told Briana to take her dress off. She pulled it over her head and folded it on the table. 

Briana and Pavlina kicked their shoes off, dropping three inches off each girl. Nate, still clothed, picked up Pavlina's tube top and tube skirt. "Let's go upstairs," Nate ventured. He grabbed his shopping bag, and let the girls lead the way as he admired their bare asses from behind.

The bed covers were still a mess from this morning's nap, so Nate told the girls to make the bed while he undressed. Through Briana's translation, Nate told Pavlina to lie on her back, sideways across the bed, with her head hanging over the side of the bed. He had her draw her knees up and then outwards, flat on the bed, spreading her thighs wide and splitting her pussy. He had Briana take up the same position beside Pavlina, although Briana lacked Pavlina's flexibility, and did not flatten her bent knees sideways onto the bed. Both girls hung their heads backwards off the edge of the bed. 

Nate took Pavlina's tube top, and folded it into itself, making the tube shorter and thicker. He folded it once again, and then slid the shortened tube over Pavlina's head until it rested firmly over her eyes. It was a perfect blindfold. He similarly blindfolded Briana with Pavlina's tube skirt. They were lying on their backs with their heads hanging over the edge of the bed. Both their knees were bent and spread wide open. And now they were blindfolded. 

Nate, now naked, stepped in front of Briana, and touched his cock to her upside-down lips. She opened her mouth and took him in while Nate caressed both girls' tits. He pumped in and out of Briana's mouth a few strokes, and then moved to Pavlina. She too sucked him while Nate continued playing with their nipples. 

Nate withdrew and retrieved two life-sized, skin tone dildos, complete with ball sacks, from his bedside table drawer. Nate returned his hardened cock to Pavlina's mouth, and while she resumed her sucking duties, he leaned forward with a dildo in each hand, and rubbed them lightly up and down each girl's pussy. He landed Briana's dildo over her fuck hole first, and gently pressed inwards. It slid all the way in easily as Briana gasped with the unexpected invasion. With his cock still in Pavlina's sucking mouth, Nate next steered her dildo over her vagina, and pressed it in. She was tighter and drier, and it was not going in easily. 

Nate withdrew his cock from her mouth, which had stopped sucking when Pavlina felt the dildo pressing roughly against her dry pussy. He opened the bedside table drawer, and applied a thin coat of KY to the dildo. He didn't put his cock in her mouth – he wanted her to focus on the dildo for now. He gently pressed the tip of the phallus to her opening, and it slid in effortlessly. Nate pressed it the rest of the way in, and returned his real cock to Pavlina's mouth. After a moment's hesitation, she took him in and resumed her sucking duties. 

As Pavlina sucked Nate, he fucked both girls' pussies with the dildos – Pavlina with his left hand, Briana with his right. He pumped both dildos in and out, in and out while Pavlina sucked on his real cock. After a minute or more, he pulled both dildos out, and withdrew his cock from Pavlina's mouth. He swapped the dildos in his hands and touched both dildos to their lips. Briana drew Pavlina's dildo into her mouth right away, and a moment later Pavlina sucked on Briana's dildo. Unless they were intimately familiar with the taste of their own pussies, the blindfolded girls had no way of knowing they were sucking on each other's dildos. 

When the dildos were shiny clean, Nate plunged them back into the girls' pussies. Nate positioned his rock-hard cock at Briana's mouth, and she obediently took him in and sucked him while he continued to dildo fuck both girls. Nate repeated the pussy-to-mouth dildo-swap tactic several more times, letting each girl savor the other's juices. The blindfolded girls sucked him in alternate goes. While they were doing a fine job, the mouth action alone, coupled with the pussy-to-mouth dildo interruptions, was not going to be enough to bring Nate to climax. 

After his eighth pussy-to-mouth dildo crossover, Nate retrieved a condom from his side table, then walked around the bed with a raging hard-on and with both dildos still in hand. He climbed on the bed from the far side, and told the girls to scoot toward him, so their heads were no longer hanging over the side of the bed. He confirmed the blindfolds were still in place, and then he dildo fucked both girls again, this time admiring the view of the dildos plunging in and out of their soft, pink fuck holes.

Nate crossed the dildos from pussy to mouth again, but this time he left the dildos in the girls mouths to suck while he ripped open the condom package and rolled the sheath over his rigid tool. Nate settled between Pavlina's open legs and landmarked his pussy-seeking missile against her enlarged, pink lips. He pushed in, and relished in the sensation of Pavlina's tight pussy gripping his cock like a fist. As Nate started fucking Pavlina, he reached across and pulled Briana's dildo out of her mouth and moved it to her pussy, and slipped it in easily. Nate fucked both girls simultaneously while Pavlina still sucked on her dildo. In the moment, Nate wished that both dildos were somehow also his real penises, and he was fucking both girls and getting a blowjob all at the same time.

Nate felt his balls stir to life as Pavlina's tight pussy worked its magic on him. He pulled his cock out of Pavlina and the dildo out of Briana's pussy, and shifted over between Briana's open legs. Nate pulled the dildo out of Pavlina's mouth and tossed it on the bed, and replaced it with Briana's pussy-soaked dildo to let Pavlina suck. Nate plunged his own ramrod into Briana's hot pussy. Briana groaned with satisfaction as he started pumping her hard. Nate moved Pavlina's now shiny clean artificial cock to her pussy, and like before, fucked both girls. 

Briana's pussy might not be as tight, but it was working its own magically delicious charm. Nate's balls were roiling, and it wouldn't be long before detonation. He decided to go for it, and started ramming hard into Briana's pelvis. He ignored Pavlina, and grabbed Briana's hips with both hands, and drove for home. Nate felt the pressure in his balls build and build. At last he unloaded salvo after salvo of hot liquid into Briana's sheathed pussy. Briana's back arched and her chest heaved as she moaned in sympathy to Nate's pleasure. 

When his orgasmic convulsions subsided, Nate pulled out. He found Pavlina's fuck dildo, and rubbed it all over Briana's tits, rolling it lengthwise across her smooth, tender skin. He left a thin, scented film of Pavlina's pussy juices all over Briana's breasts. Blindfolded, Briana didn't appreciate Nate's actions until her nostrils filled with Pavlina's fresh scent. Just to make sure she had enough, Nate dipped the dildo back into Pavlina's pussy, pumped it in and out a few times, reloading the dipstick with a new load of pussy nectar, and he finished painting Briana's tits with it.

Then Nate unfurled the condom from his softening fuck rod, and dangled it upside down over Pavlina's tits, squeezing the condom down its length, from tip to opening like a tube of toothpaste, freeing his imprisoned semen that formed milky white dollops all over Pavlina's perky little tits. He used the same dildo like a spatula to smear his cum puddles into a thin, shiny glaze all over Pavlina's breasts, paying special attention to her cherry red nipples. 

Nate removed both girls' blindfolds, and kissed each of them on the lips, first Pavlina, then Briana. "Thanks for a great fuck," he said to the ladies. 

"As if we had a choice," Briana replied without emotion in English. 

"You always have a choice," Nate assured her, also in English. "No one is holding you here against your will, and no one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to do. You can leave any time you want." 

Briana opened her mouth to respond, but then changed her mind. 

"I'm going to have a shower," she said, rising off the bed.

"No," Nate reminded her, "one shower a day rule. You can shower tomorrow."

This time Briana didn't hold back. "I have sex all over me," she gestured at Pavlina's dried pussy lubricant all over her chest and tits. "I reek of it. I still have your cum in my hair. I need a shower."

"Tomorrow," Nate warned with darkened eyes locked on hers. She looked away. Briana was beginning to think this might not be a teenage girl's dream crush come true after all. 

Pavlina absorbed the emotional gravity of the exchange without understanding the words. She asked Briana what they said. Briana told her in German that they were not allowed to shower again until tomorrow. Palvina touched her fingertips to her chest between her breasts, and felt the sticky jism crusting on her skin. 

Pavlina went to the bathroom and soaked a wash cloth in warm water, and then wiped Nate's cum off her tits and chest as best as she could. When she returned, Pavlina picked up her tube clothing Nate used as blindfolds, and she slipped them on, creating a black mini-dress again. Briana's dress was downstairs. She padded down the steps naked, and changed her mind about the dress. She pulled the short black skirt and blue pinstriped short sleeve shirt from her shopping bag, and pulled them on. She turned on the TV and sulked. Pavlina joined her in a German dubbed episode of the Big Bang Theory that had just come on at 9:30. Nate stayed upstairs and cleaned the two dildos in warm soapy water and sterilized them with alcohol before putting them in a drawer in his bedside table. 

Nate went downstairs and asked the girls if they wanted drinks. They each took a beer on the sofa, and Nate drank a single malt scotch in the armchair while the last fifteen minutes of the Big Bang Theory played out in German. The girls bantered back and forth about the show in German, mostly Briana filling Pavlina in on the backstory. Occasionally Briana translated the gist of their conversation to English for Nate, who seemed comfortable without it. He had seen this episode before in English, he explained. 

At one point near the end of the show, Pavlina asked Briana in German "is he always this much of an asshole?" The question was out of context to the show, when Briana realized Pavlina was asking about Nate. Pavlina had been careful to use exactly the same tone of voice as her regular banter, and was she even pointed to the TV when she asked it, but her eyes momentarily shot across to Nate in his chair when Briana looked at her.




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 02



"Not that I remember," Briana answered in German, suspecting Nate had no idea what they were saying. "He was nice to me. I liked him." She paused in thought. "And when you think about it, he is paying us lots of money." She was careful not use words like 'thousand' or 'euros' that Nate might pick up on. She casually looked over at Nate – he was thumbing through emails on his smartphone, apparently oblivious to their conversation.

"I don't see why that girl stays with that guy," Pavlina said, pointing to the TV. "Once we get what we need, it's two against one," she continued in the same tone, still pointing at the TV.

"Once we get what we want," Briana retorted, "we can leave."

"Can you believe this?" Pavlina asked, waving at the closing credits. "What makes you believe we will get any of what he promises?"

"He wouldn't lie about that," Briana defended Nate.

"This is the same man that used to be nice?" this time Pavlina looked right at Briana. 

Briana squirmed with Nate being so close. She turned to Nate and said in English. "Pavlina doesn't understand why Penny likes Leonard."

"I've barely understood that either," Nate looked up from his smartphone. "Frankly I think it is a stupid show, but there is so little on that's good, here." 

Briana translated into German: "I told him you don't understand why the girl on the show likes the boy – Nate agrees." 

Pavlina smiled and nodded at Nate. "If he doesn't pay me, I will cut his cock off too," she said in a neutral tone while still smiling at Nate.

Showing no signs he was aware of the threat Pavlina levied against him, Nate announced "if you guys want, I have some movies." He used his smartphone as a remote, and brought Netflix up on the TV. The girls chose the Lego movie. Nate configured the movie to display German subtitles. 

As the opening credits came on, Nate asked if they girls wanted a refill of their beers. Pavlina said something to Briana, but she didn't understand. Pavlina said 'cannabis', and even Nate understood what she was asking for. He disappeared into this office, closed the door, and came out a minute later.

He moved to the couch between Briana and Pavlina, and gestured them to make room for him to sit between them. The sofa was easily long enough to accommodate the three of them, so the girls shuffled sideways and let Nate sit down with Pavlina to his right and Briana to his left. He pulled out a hand-rolled unfiltered cigarette with the ends pinched closed and a lighter from his shirt pocket, and lit up the joint. He took a drag and passed it to Pavlina, who pulled two long drags off it. She passed it across Nate directly to Briana, who drew several drags from the stick. "Everything is Awesome" the movie sang out as Nate pulled his second toke. They passed the joint back and forth until it became too short to handle. Nate dropped the roach into his empty scotch glass and watched it sizzle in the last few drops. He leaned back into the sofa, and put his arms around both girls' shoulders. Briana snuggled into Nate and leaned her head on his shoulder while Pavlina let herself just rub against Nate's shoulder. 

Five minutes later, Pavlina's tube top was around her naval while Nate played with her small, bouncy tits. She mostly ignored Nate's fawning and let him play. Briana's blouse was completely unbuttoned and Nate was offering equal treatment to her considerably larger but equally delightful breasts. Briana was affectionately rubbing her head against Nate's shoulder. After a few more minutes of double breasted frolicking, Briana softly cried "I can't stand this," and she turned toward Nate, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, leaned over and took him into her loving mouth. Prompted by Briana's initiative, Nate pulled his right arm away from Pavlina's shoulders, and instead positioned it in front of her, letting his hand slip between her legs, up her short tube skirt, and he landed three fingers on her pussy. Pavlina grumbled something in Czech and lifted up off the couch, and sat alone in the armchair. 

Nate sashayed sideways toward the end of the couch where Pavlina had been sitting, giving more room for Briana to suck him properly. She kneeled on the sofa beside Nate and started bobbing her head up and down furiously, sucking hard on each up stroke. As Nate grew immensely rigid, he reached underneath Briana's torso, pulled up her short skirt, and landmarked two fingers on her pussy hole. Nate drove inwards with both fingers, finger fucking her pussy as she sucked him hard. 

Briana pulled out and sat up and shrugged her unbuttoned blouse off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor. She stood up and faced Nate. She unfastened his belt buckle and his pants clasp, and hiked the hem of her skirt up to her waist, then mounted Nate facing him, one knee on either side of him. Briana poised herself over Nate's vertical fuck rod, and guided his rod into her pussy as she lowered her body onto his lap. Nate's cock slipped easily into Briana's naturally lubricated fuck hole. As Briana began rocking forward and backward on Nate's lap, he reached around with both hands and grabbed her ass. He assisted Briana's rocking by cupping his hands under her ass cheeks and lifting each time she rocked forward, sliding her pussy up his steel shaft.

Briana fucked Nate passionately for several minutes while Pavlina continued watching the Lego movie with German subtitles. Briana came to rest, sitting on Nate's lap, with Nate still deep inside her. Briana leaned forward and whispered in Nate's ear, "I would have fucked you that night ten years ago."

"You already told me that," Nate whispered back.

"Then shut up and fuck me," Briana said, looking into his eyes, and she kissed him hard on the lips. Nate wrapped his arms around her back, and gripping her body tightly, he twisted her to the left, spinning her a quarter circle around his fuck rod. Then he leaned her back into the sofa to his left. He meant to gently lower her onto the cushions, but his stoned reflexes were off, and he lost balance as she went tumbling over. He let go, and Briana fell harmlessly onto her back on the sofa, losing her copulatory coupling with Nate.

Nate kneeled between Briana's legs, and lifted them high and wide apart in the air. He aimed his fuck rod for her gaping pussy, but his balance was off and he missed, landing dead center on her asshole instead. Briana reflexively squeezed her but cheeks closed and lowered her hips, removing her rosebud from the field of play. Nate re-aimed, and this time found her pussy, and pushed in. "Oh fuck me big Daddy," Briana cried out as he pushed inside. Those words resonated in Nate's head with a disturbingly arousing charm, and Nate began pounding his hips into Briana's pelvis with wild abandon. Briana grunted a sigh with each of Nate's thrust. 

Nate looked over to Pavlina, who until then was still watching the Lego movie, but Nate's and Briana's commotions had dislodged her attention from the film. She looked into Nate's eyes looking at her, and they stared at each other as Nate pounded Briana's pussy. Nate didn't see longing or arousal in Pavlina's face. Something else was behind her dark brown eyes – something darker. 

Marijuana, or its medicinal name, Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), affects different people in different ways, especially when it comes to sex. For some, it lowers their inhibitions and amplifies their sexual arousal, as it clearly did with Briana. For others, like Nate, it inhibits sexual function and performance, and so he felt the erotic build-up of climactic excitement slip away, just as surely as air leaks from a punctured tire. His dick softened, even as he ram-fucked Briana, and soon Nate went so soft he could no longer penetrate her. It probably didn't help that Nate already discharged two salvos in the past twelve hours, the last one just an hour ago. 

"Fuck!" Nate exasperated as he broke his eye contact with Pavlina and dropped his head in frustration. He felt betrayed by his own body. 

"What's wrong, Daddy?" Briana asked with a little schoolgirl voice, but Nate didn't hear her. He planted a foot on the floor, steadied himself, and stood up. He was angry, frustrated, and hurt, and his marijuana high was quickly collapsing into depression. But something pierced his growing mood of darkness. What did she just call him?

He crouched down over her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and whispered "It's okay baby," and she threw her arms around his shoulders. They hugged each other for a long time. Nate pulled away, but Briana tightened her grip around his neck, pulling him in tighter. He kneeled down on one knee to relief the strain on his bent-over back. He heard Briana sniffle.

Nate pulled away this time, and looked down at Briana's tear streaked face. "I'm sorry," she cried. "Sometimes I really miss not having a dad." She wiped the tears from her face. "I feel so stupid," she cried.

He kissed her tears. "There's nothing stupid about missing your dad," he whispered. 

"No," she said, "I don't miss him. I don't even remember him. I just miss not having a dad." Briana pulled him down again, and kissed Nate on the lips. He kissed her tenderly. In that moment, Nate wished Briana was that teenage babysitter who yearned for Nate's fatherly approval while desiring his manly affections. He wished he could go back to that instant. He wished he had fucked Briana ten years ago and ditched his soon-to-be ex-wife. 

Except for the kids. Even mildly stoned, Nate knew life would never have worked out that way. The amicable nature of his divorce to Theresa, and his subsequent encumbered free life, and his enriched relationship with his own children happened because both he and Theresa were mature adults. True, Theresa was unfaithful, but by then Nate didn't care, which, in itself was part of the reason she was unfaithful. By contrast, Nate was certain that, had he fucked the teenage babysitter in their own home, their divorce would have taken a much darker trajectory. Worse, his kids' would hate him. Knowing all that, Nate still indulged a fanciful moment of imagining the last ten years with Briana, who was devoted to Nate like a faithful, dutiful daughter, while compulsively drawn to him as his forbidden, lustful mistress. 

"Is okay?" Pavlina interrupted Nate's fantasy, pointing to Briana. Pavlina sat in the arm chair with her tube top pulled up, covering her perky breasts. 

Nate sat up and smiled. "Okay," he said and stood up. Nate was suddenly hungry. He went to the kitchen prepared two microwave popcorn packs. He carried the bags to the living room, and all three ate popcorn and watched the Lego movie. He found more beers for the girls, and another scotch for himself, then Nate lit up another joint and shared it with the girls. An hour later, they raided the fridge again. An hour after that, the movie was long over. Nate found the remote and turned off the TV. "Let's go to bed," he said, and cajoled the girls up the stairs. 

Briana used the bathroom. Pavlina waited and used it next. Nate told Pavlina to take her clothes off, and Pavlina stripped off the tube top and skirt, and then slipped under the duvet where Briana was already waiting. Nate looked around, and cursed himself for forgetting the lights. He went downstairs, and turned off the lights, knowing leaving them on would keep him awake. He climbed back upstairs two by two, and turned off the bedroom lights, and then slipped under the covers between the two naked girls. 

He turned to Pavlina, who was lying on her back. Nate slipped a hand under the covers to her pussy, and kissed her goodnight. To his surprise, she kissed him back tenderly. She brought both hands down over his, and started rubbing his hand up and down over her clitoris. "Tomorrow," Nate promised, and kissed her goodnight. 

Nate rolled over to Briana, who was on her left side facing him. He put his hand on her right breast and kissed gently. "Goodnight," he whispered, gently pulling on her nipple.

Briana reached down between them and took Nate's resting cock in her hand and squeezed. "Goodnight, Daddy," she sighed, and closed her eyes, but held on to his cock. Nate felt creepily excited, but elected not to follow his carnal urge, with the recent misfire downstairs still smarting. Nate rolled onto his back, but Briana held her grip on his unloaded pistol. They both fell asleep with her fingers wrapped around his shaft.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03



No Fair: Three Against One

Nate grew dimly aware of a steady hiss. It was a familiar, non-threatening sound, but something in Nate's barely functioning cognitive center told him it was unwelcome. As his veil of unconsciousness slowly lifted, more fragments of the outside world sept through his fading slumber. 

He opened his eyes. Nate was lying on his back. Pavlina to his left had her back to him. Briana was facing him, curled into a fetal position on his right. And now he understood the hissing sound. Outdoors it was raining. He could tell just by listening it was a full, steady rain. It would last for hours, maybe the whole day. 

His digital clock on the side table read 7:42. Nate looked at the girls again. Pavlina's back and shoulder were exposed, so Nate pulled the duvet up to her neck. She gently stirred, but did not seem to waken. On his other side, Briana looked so vulnerable, innocent. Last night was coming back to him. Nate cringed as the Daddy references came to light while he fucked her on the sofa. But even as he clenched a shiver in his spine, Nate noticed his pistol was stiffening at the very thought of a fuck-my-Daddy fantasy. 

Nate rolled up onto his hands and knees, and tried crawling over Pavlina without touching or waking her. She moaned something unintelligible in any language. Nate planted his feet on the floor, stood up, and fixed the duvet over Pavlina again. He made his way to the bathroom and closed the door.

The rain was both a blessing and a curse. A curse, of course, because it curtailed outdoor activity. A blessing because it left Nate and two young girls with nothing to do but think of ways to pass the time indoors. Downstairs, Nate made some espresso on the stove. He went into his office with his coffee, and logged into his work computer. 

Nate had accumulated a fair amount of overtime, which he had agreed at the beginning of his contract Nate would take as time off. His boss had recently begun to worry about the amount of time off Nate had accumulated – if Nate were to take it all at once, it could pose a problem. Therefore his boss had been asking Nate to start thinking about taking his overtime in time off. Nate composed an email to his boss explaining why the coming week would make a good time for him to burn off some of his overtime. There were some issues Nate knew he would have to deal with this week, and he explained in his email he could attend to those issues remotely from home. 

Nate then parsed through his unread emails, and found some new issues had already come up, and he started dealing with those by composing follow-up emails to the right people, asking them to provide needed input. He reviewed his own project files, and found the data he would need to provide, and forwarded his information to other people who needed it.

He checked the time on his laptop clock. It was 9:02. It always astounded Nate how long it takes to deal with email. Nate had to confess his faculties might not be running at full speed, being mildly hung over from last night. 

He decided to make some breakfast, but he was out of eggs. He had a small ham in the fridge, so Nate sliced that and heated it in a frying pan. The smell of coffee and breakfast woke Briana, who trundled down the stairs wearing her short white bathrobe. 

"Morning," Nate chirped to Briana, handing her a coffee. She looked at him with heavy eyes, and took the coffee without a word. Briana sat at the table and cradled the coffee in both hands without taking a sip. Nate checked the apartment temperature – it was 25C, or 77F Nate calculated. He surmised Briana was also hung over, and she was not trying to warm up her hands. 

"Did I ..." she started weakly, looking down into her coffee cup, "call you ..." She couldn't finish the question.

"I guess you're just a daddy's girl," Nate answered obliquely.

"Oh my fucking Christ!" Briana put her coffee down and brought the palms of her hands to her closed eyes. "I am so embarrassed." She rested with her head in her hands and her elbows on the table for several seconds. Then Briana looked up to Nate. "Did you fuck me without a condom?"

"Actually," Nate realized as he remembered the incident, "you fucked me. You climbed on top of me and yelled out 'Fuck me Daddy!' "

"Oh Jesus!" Briana cried, returning her head to her hands. She didn't look up at Nate this time. "Did you ... you know ... inside me?"

"No," Nate smiled. "I laid you down on the couch and fucked you, but I pulled out before I came." Technically it was not a lie.

"Thank you," Briana exhaled loudly. She looked up at him again. "Did you try to ... you know ... up my ... you know?" Her face flushed red as she asked.

"No," Nate smiled. "I kind of stumbled and missed. I barely touched your ass."

"I don't remember you fucking me there," she nodded, "but I remember being afraid you were trying to."

"You made it pretty clear that was not part of the deal from the start," Nate conceded. "I wasn't going to mess with that, even if I was stoned."

"Speaking of stoned, what was that?" Briana asked. "I've thought I smoked the best there was in Amsterdam, but last night, that was like ... fuck, Nate, that was from a different planet." 

"I have some friends," was all Nate offered. 

"I'd like to meet your friends," Briana smiled at last.

"No," Nate assured her, looking at her hot, nubile body in a skimpy bathrobe, "you wouldn't." Briana looked down and took a sip of her coffee. She asked for milk and sugar, which Nate brought to the table. Briana stirred some in. "Want some breakfast?" Nate asked.

"I'm starving," Briana nodded. "What about Pavlina?"

"Let her sleep. It's not as though we have anywhere to go," Nate nodded toward the window. It was still raining hard.

"I need to get some personal things. Is there a drug store?"

"Up on the Reeperbahn," Nate nodded. "It will be the only place open today." The Reeperbahn is Hamburg's famous red light district, and it never closes, even on bank holidays. An assortment of restaurants, bars, clubs, food markets, and a few drug stores are always open, as are all the sex shops.

"Is that far?"

"It's a fifteen minute walk," Nate confirmed. "Let's hope the rain stops today."

Nate opened a can of pineapple, and placed one slice on each thick cut of fried ham. He handed a plate of ham and pineapple to Briana, and brought one for himself to the table together with knives and forks.

"What happened to you and Theresa?" Briana asked as she cut a bite sized piece off her slice of ham.

Nate condensed a long history into a brief summary. Nate travelled a lot in his job, she worked late hours. Theresa started seeing another guy while Nate was away. The marriage was already dead, but it imploded when Nate found out. That was ten years ago. They tried staying together for the kids, but Nate eventually realized that they were doing more damage to the kids by being together than by splitting up. They separated just over six years ago.

"And what about Sarah and Dillon?" Briana asked, her only real concern.

"I travel so much," Nate said, "that they spent most of their time with Theresa. That is," Nate qualified, "until a few years ago. Theresa got careless," Nate said flatly. "About a year after we separated, she accidently forwarded an old email that she shouldn't have. Until then, we had both told the kids it was no one's fault – just one of those things adults go through, Long story short, Sarah found out Theresa had screwed around on me while we were still married. Sarah refused to live with Theresa – called her a slut, a whore, a liar, Sarah even called her a cunt to her face. You know Dillon – he does what Sara does, so they both lived with me for a couple of years before they went off to school."

"What happened to Theresa?"

"She's happily married, last time I checked," Nate reflected. "But Sarah still won't talk to her. Dillon calls Theresa from Chicago once in a while."

"And you?" Briana asked.

"I'm doing okay. I am half way through a one year contract here, it will probably be extended for a second year. Dillon and Sara are coming to visit in August." 

"No," Briana shook her head, "I mean did you remarry?"

"Nah," Nate shrugged. "I was a good little boy when I was young. I've been making up for that in the past few years. Sowing my wild oats a little late in life, I suppose."

"So were you a good little boy while you were married to Theresa?," Briana challenged. "Were you the faithful husband?"

"Actually, I was," Nate answered almost with surprise in his voice. "I mean, we both knew the marriage was over for a long time before we separated, but I wanted to be able to look my kids in the eye and tell them I did everything I could before it ended." He paused for a moment while Briana nodded thoughtfully, thinking back ten years to the night Nate broke her heart. "That was Theresa's mortal sin. She didn't betray me – our marriage was already over. She violated a sacred trust between her and the kids. She really fucked things up," Nate scorned. "You have no idea how much harder it is for both of us now that Sarah will have nothing to do with her."

"Actually, I do," Briana retorted sullenly. Nate suddenly realized what a callously insensitive remark he had made.

"I'm really sorry, Briana," Nate pleaded. "You're mother seems like a very nice person. I can only imagine how hard it was to raise a family alone."

"She liked you," Briana offered.

"We barely knew each other," Nate commented. He wanted to change subjects after last night's revelation of his three-way fantasy with Briana and her mother, but he decided the best approach was to play it cool – it will fizzle out on its own. "I think we met twice, and both times was for maybe five minutes."

"I used to talk to her about you. She used to complain I'd never stop talking about you."

"Did she know you had a crush on me?"

"She figured it out before I did," Briana mused thoughtfully. 

"And that's why she wanted to meet me?"

"I think so," Briana offered. "Or maybe she was checking you out for herself," Briana smiled. 

"Briana," Nate asked after a pause, "what happened between you and your mother? You two seemed really close."

Briana put her knife and fork down and stared at her plate a long time. "She said I stole money, and now she won't talk to me," Briana sulked.

"Did you?"

"It's a grey area," was all Briana would admit to.

"How much?"

"A lot," Briana assured him. "Much more than our little deal."

"And the money is gone?"

"Loaned it to a friend, never got it back," Briana sighed wistfully. She thought for a moment longer. "Asshole," she blew out a breath at the unseen friend. "Right now, my mother would rather I turn tricks on the street for cash before she'd give me a dime." Nate didn't believe any mother could wish that upon her own daughter, least of all Briana's mother, but he didn't challenge Briana. Clearly it was a sore spot, and Nate had nothing to gain by picking at the scab.

"How about your father," Nate changed gears. "You never told me what happened there."

"Never knew him," Briana shrugged. "I guess he left us when I was, like, six months old. Mom never talked about him much. I think he left for another woman – one without kids. Then he died when I was six." Briana fell into a pensive moment. "My mom went to the funeral, but didn't take me."

"She never remarried?" Nate asked.

"I think she's having fun like you," Briana shrugged. "Or, at least until a while ago. I think she'd like to settle down." Briana paused in thought. "But what the fuck do I know?"

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and looked up. Pavlina's bare feet and slender legs descended the upper stairs until Nate could see the same black tube skirt and top she wore yesterday. "Káva" she called out, and then switched to German: "Kaffee". 

Nate got up from the table and poured her the last of the espresso into a new cup. He assembled a plate of ham and pineapple, and set Pavlina's place across from Briana. Nate started another pot of espresso while the girls chatted idly in German.

Halfway through eating her ham slice, Pavlina said to Briana in German, "there is a problem with the money." Briana looked apprehensively at Nate, who continued preparing the coffee without paying attention to their foreign babble. "He can give us half tomorrow, but we have no place to put it. We don't have pockets, we don't have a safe place. I would suggest up our vaginas, but he sticks his fingers up mine so often that he would take it back in five minutes." 

Briana decided not to play Pavlina's game. She called to Nate in the kitchen "Pavlina wants to know where we can keep the money you give us tomorrow."

"I have a safe in the apartment," Nate explained without hesitation. "You can put it in there."

Briana translated for Pavlina, and she asked a question with hostile skepticism in her voice. "Pavlina wants the combination to the safe."

"Sure," Nate agreed unfazed. "She can make up her own combination. I don't need to know it." 

Briana translated, and Pavlina's face expressed dubious acceptance. She asked another question. "How is that possible?" Briana asked. Nate explained the safe is built in to the apartment, like in a hotel – you can make up your own combination. Nate doesn't use it. Nate didn't explain that, after he moved in, he had a more secure safe installed in his office. 

Briana translated. Pavlina spoke for a while. "So, to be clear we all understand," Briana translated back to Nate in English, "you have a safe that we can set the combination to. You don't have access to the safe once we set that combination. Only we can open the safe." Nate just nodded. "What happens if we forget the combination?" Briana asked of her own accord.

"I have to phone the building manager. They will come in and open the safe. I'm told there is lots of paperwork, and a service fee, which you would have to pay," Nate explained casually. Briana translated, and Pavlina shrugged, realizing it was as good as it was going to get. She ate her breakfast in silence.

Nate shut off the gas stove and brought the fresh pot of espresso to the table, and refilled their three cups. Briana added milk and sugar, and then tasted it. "That's good coffee," and took another sip.

Briana still had her coffee cup to her lips when Pavlina looked up at Nate and with an exaggerated pout of her lips, she spoke in English "Thank you Daddy!" 

Briana burst her mouthful of coffee all over the table, spraying it down the front of her white bathrobe. She put her cup aside, laid her forehead on the table, and covered the back of her head with her hands in mortifying embarrassment. Nate smiled. 

Nate put the empty coffee pot down, and walked around the table, stopping right behind Pavlina's chair. He gently tilted her head back so she was looking up at him, and Nate bent over and kissed Pavlina on the lips. While she returned his kiss, Nate reached below her upturned face, and slipped his hands down the front of her chest, pulled down her tube top, and cupped her firm, small tits in his hands. Briana lifted her head off the table and watched Nate capture Pavlina's cherry red nipples between his fingers and thumbs, and gently twist them clockwise and then the other way, back and forth, until they hardened into firm, red suckling spigots. 

Nate finally broke off the kiss, and pressed his palms over her erect, red nipples. When Nate stood upright, he felt the early risings of a boner in his pants. Nate walked around the table to Briana, took her hands, and pulled her up so that she stood, pushing the chair back from the table. Nate told her to put one foot on the chair. Briana lifted her left foot, and rested it on the chair beside her. The short coffee stained white bathrobe fell open near the bottom, exposing her full bush.

Nate turned Briana's face toward him gently with one finger, and then kissed her. She returned his kiss. With his right hand, Nate reached down between Briana's legs. With her left leg on the chair, her pussy was stretched open, and Nate easily slipped his middle finger inside, and slid it in and out a few times until the tip was wet, then Nate drove two fingers deep inside Briana. She continued kissing him while he finger fucked her wet pussy, and now Nate's early risings were raging into a full blown hard-on. 

Nate broke his kiss with Briana, but left his fingers inside her pussy. With his other hand, he waved Pavlina to come over. By now she had restored the tube top cover over her breasts. She stood up from her chair, and walked around. He gestured her to kneel in front of him, and then he opened his hips toward the kneeling Pavlina, told her "Suck." As Pavlina pulled down the elastic waist of Nate's sweatpants, Nate returned his focus to Briana, and kissed her again with two fingers still finger fucking her vagina.

Nate started pumping his fingers in and out of Briana's pussy in rhythm to Pavlina's sucking action. Nate had originally planned for this to be just a warm-up – let the girls clean up and then go upstairs – but the urgency in his balls was mounting faster than he anticipated, so Nate decided to move things ahead. "Let's go upstairs," he said to the girls. He pulled his cock out of Pavlina's loving mouth, and withdrew his two fingers from Briana's hole. Nate touched the tips of his two pussy-soaked fingers to Pavlina's lips, and she obediently took them into her mouth and sucked on them.

Nate pulled his clean fingers out of Pavlina's mouth, and pushed his sweatpants to the floor and stepped out of them, letting his solid flagpole wave in the breeze. He ushered both girls upstairs. In the bedroom he told them to strip, which took nearly no time. 

Nate told Briana that they were to suck him using only their mouths – no hand assistance. They could take turns, but one or the other of them had to be sucking him until he came – no down time. Finally, he explained, Nate would cum in one of their mouths. Whoever that was would hold the cum in her mouth, and let Nate watch as both girls kissed each other, and swapped with the cum between them. Briana translated sheepishly, not knowing the word for cum, so she used 'man juice'. 

Nate took off his shirt, and lay naked in the middle of the large bed. He gestured Pavlina to lie on top of him 69 style. Her full weight was on Nate's upper body. Nate spread her legs wide open, nearly 90 degrees each. He pulled a pillow under his head to give him support in reaching her split wide open pink pussy with his tongue. 

Briana crawled onto the bed to Nate's left, at right angle to Pavlina. Pavlina started, and took Nate into her mouth, and so began the suckfest. Nate began flicking his tongue over Pavlina's clit, teasing and probing it. Then Nate moved southward, and landed the tip of his tongue over her fuck hole, and drove it in as far as he could. Nate brought both hands around, and used his fingers to spread her pussy open much wider, letting his tongue reach deeper folds of her vagina. 

After a minute, of sucking, Pavlina gave way to Briana, who had an advantage in that she could position herself in the most comfortable positon. She could also use her upper body and shoulders to bob her head up and down, whereas Pavlina, lying on top of Nate, restricted her movements to her neck, tongue, and lips. 

As Briana found her sucking rhythm, Nate returned his tongue to Pavlina's clit, but this time with his fingers nearby, he also started pumping his right middle finger up Pavlina's pussy. He reached his upturned left hand toward Briana, who was sucking him on her knees, and he found her firm, large, hanging tits, and started playing with them while Briana continued sucking him.

After a few minutes, the girls swapped sucking duties, and Pavlina took over again. Briana sat back on her heels, making her tits harder to reach, so Nate slipped his hand southward, and as he hoped, Briana's knees were wide open, letting him easily slide his hand over her open pussy. He felt for her fuck hole, and started pumping his left middle finger in and out, synchronizing its motion to his right middle finger that was fucking Pavlina. Briana lifted off her heels a little, rocking forward onto her knees, making Nate's leverage easier, and he continued finger-fucking both girls while working his tongue on Pavlina's clit. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03



Pavlina started rocking her hips over Nate's face, and Nate knew his clitoral ministrations were hitting their mark. He doubled his efforts as he felt his own balls start to churn with impending rapture. 

Briana rose to her knees as Pavlina relinquished her sucking duties. Nate continued pumping his fingers in and out of both girls' pussies as he focused on Pavlina's clitoris. His own balls were closing in on detonation, and he knew he would not last much longer. Sensing his impending release, Briana increased her tempo, drawing her whole upper body up and down in support of her head bobbing. Briana's final push paid off, and Nate felt himself pass the point of no return – he was about to explode. 

Nate mashed his tongue as hard as he could into Pavlina's clit, and he drove his fingers deep into both girls' pussies as his balls detonated in convulsive orgasmic waves. Briana stopped her head bobbing, but continued sucking when she felt his first salvo rush into her mouth. She sucked the next several rounds of jism out of Nate's bursting cock, holding it all in her mouth. 

After Nate pumped his last load of seed into Briana's mouth, he pulled his fingers out of their pussies and rolled over a quarter turn to his right, toppling Pavlina away from Briana onto her back. Briana looked at him with a full mouth and pleading eyes that begged for a change of heart, but Nate didn't relent, so she crawled over Nate and drew her face close to Pavlina's upturned mouth and the two girls kissed open mouthed. Nate's cum flowed downhill into Pavlina's mouth, and Pavlina used her tongue to push it back into Briana's mouth, causing streams of jism to squirt out between their lips and trickle down Pavlina's cheeks. Neither girl swallowed, and both pushed the semen around with their tongues, and Pavlina's face was soon streaked with streams of jism that pooled down her neck and in her hair.

Nate lay back down on the bed beside Pavlina. Briana sat up with a drool of cum dripping from her chin. She wiped it off with the back of her hand. "Now I'm having a shower," she announced, and stood up and left the room. 

Nate crawled on the bed between Pavlina's legs, and pulled them apart gently. He brought his mouth to her pussy, and resumed his lingual massage of her clitoris. Pavlina was frustratingly close when Nate came in Briana's mouth and pulled Pavlina off him, so she was already primed for the final push. She arched her back and put her hands around the back of Nate's head, pulling his face into her groin. Nate worked with Pavlina's added leverage, and within a few minutes Pavlina's chest was heaving, and her face and small breasts flushed pink with erotic excitement. 

Nate pressed his chin into his tongue, amplifying the force he delivered to Pavlina's clit. With the added push, Pavlina snapped her head back let out a low, guttural howl as spasmodic convulsions radiated out of her loins. She arched her back so hard her butt rose a foot off the mattress, lifting Nate's head up high. Nate continued pressing as hard as he could, driving home the full force of her ecstasy. Pavlina finally collapsed back into the bed. Nate lay beside her, and pulled her close. She rolled her cum-streaked head onto his shoulder, and Nate wrapped his strong arms around her. He rested the duvet over them for added comfort. Nate held Pavlina in her post orgasmic cocoon for over fifteen minutes. 

Briana returned from her shower, smelling freshly shampooed. She looked at Nate and Pavlina in their embrace. Pavlina looked up at her. "He gave me excitement with his tongue," Pavlina said in German, "and then he held me like a baby." Briana raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. "No man has done this to me before," Pavlina sighed with bittersweet melancholy, and she put her head back down on Nate's shoulder. 

Nate pulled the duvet off and patted Pavlina gently on her firm rump. "Shower," he said. 

"Yes, Daddy," Pavlina smiled, and stood up. She air kissed Briana as she walked past. Briana hung her head, shaking it side to side, realizing she will never live that moment down.

Nate took a large pillow and put it in the middle of the bed. He told Briana to like on her back with her ass on the pillow. The pillow caused Briana to arch her back slightly, jutting her pelvis upward. 

Nate retrieved a soft rope from his bedside drawer. Briana grew apprehensive when she saw the rope, but Nate assured her he wouldn't hurt her. Briana allowed Nate to tie her hands together in front of her, and then he wrapped the other end around the pair of bedposts at the center of the double headboard. Nate pulled the rope tight until Briana's hands were bound together over her head, and then he tied the rope off.

Next he retrieved a small box from the bedside drawer, and opened it. Inside he found a shiny, stainless steel, cylindrical object rounded smoothly at both ends. It looked like a large, two-ended silver bullet.

At one end was a concealed button, and Nate pressed the button. The rounded cylinder vibrated strongly in his hand. He drew the vibrating cylinder to Briana's pussy, and pressed it into her flesh, rubbing it sideways, perpendicular to the direction of her slit. Then Nate rubbed the vibrating up and down the top her lips, bumping over her hooded clit on each stroke. 

Instantly Briana felt a pleasurable tingle, which quickly blossomed into an urgent desire. She was stunned how quickly this tiny vibrator was arousing her. It almost became too intense. Briana asked Nate to slow down, but that just prompted him to speed up, and he pushed it even harder into her soft flesh. In what had to be an all-time record, Briana burst into a tightly focused orgasm in under three minutes. Briana curled her toes and unleashed a long groan while she strained her arms against the bonds. Nate continued rubbing the vibrator over her exploding clitoris, digging the tip into the flesh around to amplify her enjoyment. 

To her surprise, as soon as her orgasm faded, Nate started rubbing her genitals with the vibrator, stroking the tip up and down, each time tripping over her clit hood. Briana's chest began to heave, and she clamped her eyes shut, and desperately pulled against the ropes, but she could not prevent a second explosion of orgasmic spasms. This one took less than two minutes from start to detonation. 

Once again, Nate started in with the tiny vibrator. This time Briana did her best to hold back, to delay, or even prevent the next orgasm. She thought of math, a subject she hated in school, but her body betrayed her, and Briana felt her pussy explode a third time in less than two minutes. 

"No more. Please no more," Briana moaned, but Nate ignored her, and primed the buzzing vibrator for a fourth pass. Briana was astonished to feel each orgasm as powerful as the first, and yet each one took less time to reach than before. Nate didn't quit until Briana unleashed seven orgasms in under fifteen minutes. She was physically exhausted and emotionally drained when he finally untied her hands and put the rope and vibrator back in the drawer. Nate lay down beside Briana and pulled her into him, pulled the duvet over them, and held her tight.

Just then Pavlina entered the room, fresh from her shower. "Nate gave me seven orgasms," Briana told her in German. "No man has ever done that before." She turned back to Nate. "Thank you Daddy," she smiled in English, and kissed him on his forehead.  

Nate patted the bed, inviting Pavlina to join them. She climbed under the covers, and said something to Briana. "Pavlina says you are an asshole, but at least you know how to please a woman." The three lay still under the duvet, and listened to the hypnotic pitter-patter of the falling rain. 

Nate awoke alone at 4:39 by the clock beside his bed. He heard the girls talking in German downstairs as he stepped quietly into the bathroom. After he flushed, Nate started the shower. Meanwhile downstairs, Briana was listening to Pavlina telling her about Prague. It is a big city, with over two million people – easy to disappear into, as many people did every year, some willingly, others not so. 

Pavlina knew she would not be able to disappear. Uncle Jakub, Pavlina's late father's brother, lived with her mother. When Pavlina was eight, her father died in a car accident. The autopsy reported his blood alcohol was 0.17, way too drunk to drive, most especially in the Czech Republic, where zero-tolerance laws do not permit driving after consuming any alcohol. Pavlina's father was not wearing a seatbelt. A witness observed Pavlina's father's car travel at a speed of no less than 180 kph into a concrete buttress beneath an overpass. The vehicle neither braked nor swerved before disintegrating into an unrecognizable carnage of twisted metal and shattered glass. The coroner declared it an accident, but Pavlina long suspected suicide. No one challenged the official ruling. 

Pavlina's father's considerable debts died with him, which might have been part of his plan, but his surviving wife and two daughters were soon left penniless and homeless. Pavlina's mother was an office worker – a secretary – at a factory that made electric motors. The factory closed two months after her husband died. The post-soviet economy was imploding, and the Czechoslovakian government had brutally slashed social spending. Businesses everywhere were failing, and Pavlina's mother's prospects for finding another job were dim to none. 

Pavlina's mother was a trim, attractive, blonde woman in her mid-thirties with two teenage daughters. Her late husband's brother, Jakub, who had never married, offered to take her family in while Pavlina's mother looked for another job. At the time Pavlina did not understand why her older sister, Hana, hated Jakub. Hana was a tall, slender girl with her mother's fair features, blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. Hana ran away from home when Pavlina was thirteen. Pavlina never heard from Hana again. Shortly after Hana's departure, Jakub began visiting Pavlina's bedroom in the late hours, and too soon Pavlina learned firsthand why Hana despised Uncle Jakub so. 

Jakub Horak was a young officer in the Czechoslovakian counterpart to the CIA, known as the Státní bezpe?nost, or StB. Like many in his line of work, he transitioned to the modern SIS after the collapse of the Soviet Union, and the subsequent fall of the Czechoslovakian communist government.

Now that Jakub was a senior Czech Republic counter-intelligence officer, Pavlina had no doubt that her name would be brought to his attention as soon as she booked her flight to Prague. She was half certain Jakub already knew about her German arrest and AeB status. The Czech Republic was long standing member of the EU since the Maastricht Treaty of 1993, and the SIS was deeply enmeshed with the EU's security framework. 

Jakub, or more likely, one of his henchmen, would meet Pavlina at the Prague airport, and 'escort' her to an SIS interrogation room for a polite, civil, but mandatory conversation. Her passport would be temporarily confiscated, with no clear return date, and Pavlina would be released into the custody of the magnanimous Jakub, who would take the misguided girl home to her mother, who happens to be his common-law wife. 

None of this Pavlina told to Briana, only that she did not wish to go to Prague. "But you don't have to go home to Prague," Briana noted in German. She was sitting on the sofa beside Pavlina. "Couldn't you go somewhere else?"

"Like where?" Pavlina asked. 

"I don't know," Briana ventured a thought. "What about go with me to Canada?"

"And stay where?" Pavlina challenged. "Your own mother won't talk to you. Do you even have a place to live? Where would I stay?" Briana nodded, reflecting on her own predicament. 

"But aren't you allowed to travel anywhere in the EU?" Briana tried again.

"A free person, yes," Pavlina nodded, "but not someone who has been arrested and deported to her home country." Briana was beginning to see Pavlina's situation, without understanding her reasons for not wishing to return home. 

Nate came down the stairs. He was dressed in jeans and a long sleeve black shirt. Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving a late afternoon cool breeze. Briana was dressed in her yellow dress. She was sitting on the sofa with her feet tucked under her legs, and she had a short, white bathrobe draped over her bare legs for warmth. Pavlina was wearing a red skirt and a white T shirt. 

The girls broke their conversation, looking up at Nate descending the stairs. He walked over to the sofa, and looked around. The place was a mess from last night's festivities. He often left weekend messes to the cleaning lady, who came three times a week, but it was a bank holiday, and she was not expected this Monday. 

Nate started picking up the mess, and asked the girls to help. "So," Nate asked the girls, "what should we do tonight?" Briana translated for Pavlina. 

"I would like to go to a drug store," Briana replied in English. "Then maybe we can go out for dinner." She paused for a moment. "I guess I will need you to pay for some things. It shouldn't be more than 20 Euros."

"Okay," Nate nodded. "I see you have had a snack," Nate looked at the remnants of cheese and crackers, "so you're probably in no rush for dinner."

Briana and Pavlina discussed their plans in German. "We can go any time," Briana concluded for both of them. 

Nate needed to check his email. He poured himself a glass of red wine, and offered some to the girls. They each took a glass. 

Nate retreated to his office. He opened his work laptop, powered it up, and went through the several password and biometric security measures. With is work email open, he scanned through dozens of unread emails until he saw what he was looking for. There would be no problem taking the rest of the week off, as long as Nate kept in touch daily, which he had planned to anyway. He read the other hundred emails, and browsed through online news clippings from a service he subscribed to. 

Nate spent over an hour plowing through work emails on his laptop. When he checked the laptop clock, it was 6:23. He closed the laptop and put it back in its case. The girls were watching some TV when Nate came out of his office. He stepped out onto the balcony – it was turning chilly. Returning inside, he warned the girls they should put on their shawls before going out. Nate followed them upstairs, and he put on a black sport jacket. 

They left the apartment at 6:45 and climbed the gentle grass hill in the park where Nate first met the girls. At the crest of the hill, they turned left, and walked toward the Reeperbahn. Contrary to popular misconception, the street is not an endless smorgasbord of sex shops and hookers, although both exist. There is an upscale live theater, The Imperial, that presents first run Broadway shows translated to German, as well as local German productions. There are decent restaurants, shops, music clubs, and upscale bars. Because of the unique tourism draw of the Reeperbahn, many establishments never close, which was the case of the pharmacy Nate was headed for. 

Briana bought a toothbrush, toothpaste, a simple makeup kit, and some feminine products. Pavlina followed Briana's lead. Nate paid 23 Euro for the lot. As they left the store, Nate turned left, heading east, and led the girls away from the core of the red light district. 

They re-entered the park near Nate's apartment, but instead of descending down the gentle slope, Nate cut across the hill to the left, and exited the park on the east side into a twisty maze of narrow streets that all looked the same. The streets were deserted at this hour of a bank holiday. Nate found the place he was looking for – a dead-end pedestrian courtyard off a tiny street. The cobblestone courtyard was no wider than 20 feet, and maybe 100 feet long. It was lined by old, three-story buildings on three sides, with the open end spilling into the tiny street they came from. The local market merchants that normally set up tables along the edge of the courtyard were long gone, and all the businesses and storefronts were closed. Except one, Nate was hoping.

High across the back of the dead-end wall of courtyard was a narrow wooden walkway – an old wooden pedestrian bridge that arched across the courtyard from one building to the opposite wall. The curved bridge was slightly higher in the middle. It rested against the back wall, and a white wooden railing faced the open courtyard. 

To Nate's delight, a lone table at the apex of the arched bridge was unoccupied. He led the girls to a door at the back left corner of the courtyard, beneath one end of the overhead bridge, and pushed it open. It was a quaint Italian restaurant, and it was about to close on this bank holiday. Nate asked for the bridge table in English, and the waitress apologized deeply, but the restaurant was closed. Just then the owner came out of the kitchen. "Colonel Traymore!" he bellowed from the back of the empty room. "It is very good to see you again," he beamed a broad smile as he walked toward them with both open arms wide. "Please, come in," he insisted, shaking Nate's hand. "The menu is closed, but we will make a special dinner for you and your lovely guests." He turned to the hostess, and told her in German to go tell Gunther to make a complete dinner for three. She smiled weakly at Nate, turned, and walked quickly to the back of the restaurant and disappeared through the double swinging doors. 

"Herr Mazur," Nate replied, and then fell silent, as if forgetting something. "This is Briana and Pavlina," he explained in English.

"Any friend of Herr Traymore is welcome here," Mazur replied, smiling as he shook each girl's hand warmly. Briana smiled at the special attention. "But you should have called," Mazur turned back to Nate. "We had Alaskan crab cakes today – I would have saved you some, but I regret we are out now." Mazur led them toward a table inside the restaurant. Nate asked if they could eat on the bridge. "But of course!" he called out, reversing direction toward a spiral staircase. "Maria!" he hollered toward the kitchen and came to a standstill. A few seconds later the hostess who had greeted them at the front door emerged from the kitchen. "Another setting for the bridge," he called out to her in German. She nodded perfunctorily, and retreated back into the kitchen through the double doors. 

Mazur climbed the spiral stairs with Nate and the girls in tow, and he led them out a door on the second floor onto the arched bridge. The wood creaked beneath their feet as the four adults walked toward the lone table in the middle of the bridge. He seated the girls at the only two chairs, which were across from each other, adjacent to the railing. Both girls slipped off their high heel shoes.

Mazur explained a third chair and table setting would arrive for Nate. Exactly on cue, a tall, lanky, red-haired waiter Nate vaguely remembered came out the door carrying a chair, and he set it against the back wall, facing outward, toward the courtyard. The bridge was just wide enough to accommodate the third seat. No one could squeeze passed the table for three on this narrow bridge, which Nate trusted was not a problem. Mazur gestured for Nate to take his seat, and retreated through the restaurant door with the waiter. 

Pavlina pulled on her poncho tight in the cool air, and sat comfortably warm. From the outset, Briana found her shawl did not provide the warmth she needed in the chilly night air. When Nate noticed her shiver for an instant, he stood up, removed his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. Briana smiled, thanking Nate as she closed the jacket around her body without putting her arms through the sleeves. 

"How do you know the restaurant owner," Briana asked Nate.




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03



"I helped his son. By complete coincidence, I now live five minutes from his restaurant."

"What did you do – how did you help his son?"

Before he was in JTF2, Nate was in the last stages of a mission in Kosovo when they came across four young Polish peacekeepers trapped under a bridge, pinned down in a pitched firefight between the KLA and the Yugoslav Army. One of the Polish soldiers, Mazur's son, had been shot in the leg. The four soldiers had been separated from their unit. They had no comms, no ammunition, no medical support, and no way out. 

NATO's role in Kosovo was primarily air support – Nate's team was not officially there. He was running a black-op mission on the ground that could not be discovered. Nate set up a defensive perimeter around the stranded Polish soldiers, and then set his combat-medic specialist to attend to Mazur's wounds. Part of Nate's mission was to direct air strikes from the ground, so he called in a NATO strike on his crypto-comms, and when a pair of USAF F-15E Strike Eagles dropped 16,000 pounds of ordinances on the Yugoslav Army only 300 feet away, Nate's team used the lethal distraction to evacuate the Polish soldiers to friendly ground. Before the Polish peacekeepers could properly thank them, Nate's team vanished into the urban backdrop, and completed their mission. 

"I helped him out of a difficult situation," was all Nate said to Briana. Briana translated for Pavlina. 

Six months ago, when Nate first came into this restaurant, a man in his thirties, whom Nate vaguely recognized, hurriedly limped over to Nate, shook his hand, then awkwardly fell to his knees with one bad leg, and he thanked Nate again and again. The whole restaurant fell silent at the boisterous commotion. When Mazur, the restaurant owner, came over to investigate, his son looked up to his father with tears in his eyes, and cried out in Polish "Papa! This is the man I told you about who saved my life in Kosovo." 

Back in the present, the waiter returned with a silver tray holding a complete place setting for Nate, and he set the dinnerware, napkin, wine glass and water glass in front of Nate. The waiter explained in poor English that there would be no menu – that Herr Mazur had selected a special meal for them. In truth, Nate knew Chef Gunther would serve whatever was left over, but he was not about to argue. The waiter asked if anyone had special dietary needs or allergies. Nate and Briana shook their heads no. Briana translated into German for Pavlina, but she didn't know the word for allergies. The waiter took over, speaking German to Pavlina, who said anything would be fine. The waiter spun on his heel and marched back into the restaurant. 

They each promptly received a consume soup, followed by a spinach salad with ginger soaked pine nuts, fennel, chevre, and a raspberry reduction dressing. For the main course, Nate received a veal parmigiana in a cognac cream sauce. Briana was served a spaghetti Bolognese with a delicious anise sauce, and Pavlina was presented an ossobuco. Their meals were excellent. Through Briana's translations, they enjoyed limited dinner conversation. With the kitchen closed, no dessert was possible except for some pastries, which they ordered with coffee. 

Nate paid the bill with his credit card, and left an overly-generous tip in cash, knowing Gunther and the staff had stayed behind solely on their account. As they left, Herr Mazur unlocked the door, and thanked Nate for blessing his restaurant with his glorious presence, and shook all their hands as they stepped out the door. He invited the lovely ladies to return any time – they were formally friends of the restaurant. Nate heard the door lock behind him as they stepped into the empty courtyard.

The alley was dark, but a distant street light guided their way back to the twisty roads that would take them home. When they reached half way down the courtyard, two dark bodies entered the alleyway from left side, and one more from the right. The three men, dressed in black leather jackets, black T shirts, and black pants, took up a line across the 20 foot courtyard. Nate instantly recognized it as an attack formation, and they were standing in the kill zone. 

Briana was slow on the uptake, but Pavlina instantly sucked in a sharp breath of panic as she understood the menace that was blocking their way home. Nate looked left, right, and then back. The glass in the door of the Italian restaurant was dark – the staff had probably already left by the restaurant's back door, and banging on the front door would bring no help. He had his cell phone, but Nate was willing to bet that reaching for his cell phone would only invite the three men to charge on Nate and the girls. 

Now sensing the gravity of the situation, Briana took Nate's hand. She began shaking with fear. The three men neither advanced nor retreated – they held their positions. Nate knew they were trying to intimidate their quarry, and it was working on both girls.

Nate scanned his surroundings again. To Nate's left were the heavy wooden, bare tables that merchants used to sell their wares during the day, and to his right was a single set of stairs against a wall that led down, below street level, with a wrought iron railing lining two sides of the rectangular stairwell. Nate took Pavlina's hand, and without saying a word, rushed both girls toward the stairs, and looked down. The stairs descended 12 stone steps to a rectangular landing that turned left to an underground doorway, beneath the building. Nate shepherded Briana and Pavlina down the stairs as quickly as their high heels would permit them to click- clack down the hard stone steps. As he did, two of the men from the alley converged on the stairwell, and were at the railing overhead just as the girls reached the bottom landing. 

Nate pushed the girls into the doorway. It recessed two feet into the stone wall, offering the girls shallow cover. Nate was counting on the assailants not having guns – very few handguns are found in this part of the world. Knives are the choice weapons among most common criminals and gangs. If the unknown men at the top of the stairs had guns, Nate and the girls were done. Even a lousy shot could kill them all with a pistol in this confined space.

Nate's gamble paid off. One man moved to the head of the stairs, and looked down at him with a menacing, dark stare. The girls cowered behind the corner, out of his view. Another man stood at the side railing, looking straight down over Nate's head, and the man could easily see the girls tucked into the recessed doorway across from him. The third man held a long way back, and was out of Nate's sightline. Nate guessed he was the lookout – the lowest man in the pecking order. 

Nate stayed in the middle of the archway into the doorway, putting as much distance between himself and the assailant above him without losing sight of the man at the top of the stairs. Most attacks on unarmed civilians use terror to manipulate the situation to their advantage. The man at the head of the stairs reached his right hand behind his back, and pulled out a knife with a six inch serrated blade. The steel glinted off the poor light as the man moved it about. 

The thug took down step down the cold, stone stairs. "Give me all your money, and walk away from those two bitches," the man growled in German with a thick eastern European accent. Briana was too terrified to translate the German's words, but Nate didn't need the translation. He knew exactly what the man wanted. Nate guessed the accent was Romanian. The armed man stood took one step down from the top, and then stood still. 

Nate was prepared to wait it out as long as circumstances would allow. He was in a relatively defensible position, and time was on his side. Eventually someone had to walk past the courtyard, inquire at the three men, at which time Nate would prompt the two girls to scream as loudly as they could. Someone would call the police. Unfortunately, these men have calculated similar odds in their favor, and they knew the streets were deserted on this bank holiday evening. Nate's luck might well run out before anyone happens to pass by. 

Meanwhile the other man – the man standing overhead Nate behind the railing – started blowing kisses at the girls with loud smooching noises. When he had their attention, he brought his right hand toward his face, and configured his second and third fingers in a V formation against his lips, and waggled his tongue through his fingers as he made loud slurping sounds. Briana shrieked at the obscene threat, and that made the man smile with erotic gratification. Nate ignored him. Unless he was going to jump over the railing or throw his knife, he was not an immediate threat. He was trying to unnerve his prey, provoking them to panic for his own sadistic pleasure.

"I mean now," the man on the stairs hissed in German without yelling, and he took another step down. Nate kept the man standing overtop in his peripheral vision, who grabbed his crotch and rocked his pelvis toward the girls. Nate figured this man was in charge. The man coming down the stairs was his number two, and the lookout was the most junior member of the gang.

Keep them off guard. Don't fall into their trap. Instead of cowering, Nate stepped two steps up toward the man, closing their distance to 8 hard stone steps. He kept his right shoulder in contact with the stone wall. The man showed surprise, but no fear, and next he extended his right arm straight toward Nate, pointing his knife at Nate's face. 

"Are you stupid?" the Romanian German on the stairs called down to Nate. "I'm going to cut your belly open, and then I am going to make you watch while I fuck your pretty girls all night long. And then I will cut their tits off and slit their throats, and you will watch them bleed out in front of your eyes." The man took one more step down. Nate matched him with one more step up, and now only six steps lay between them. If Nate were to reach up, he could grab the knife, but he didn't. The man standing at street level, overhead, started moving. Nate needed to keep his eyes locked on the man above him, but concentrated on the man above in his peripheral vision. 

In his peripheral vision Nate noticed the man above him reached behind his back. The situation dynamics were changing rapidly. If the man above was going for a knife, he would have to go over the railing. Nate decided that would be a clumsy stab, and Nate would see it coming in his peripheral vision, so he remained focused on the man on the stairs. But his peripheral vision didn't detect the flashy glint of a knife blade – Nate's peripheral told him it was a gun, but not just any gun. It was big, nearly two feet long, round, hard, and black. Nate realized he was about to face a business end of a sawed-off shotgun. 

This new threat demanded Nate's immediate attention, so looked away from the Romanian with the knife on the stairs, and he tracked his vision across to the man pulling out the shotgun. And that's when he realized it was not a shotgun. The Romanian knew it was infinitely more terrifying than a shotgun.

The man overhead pulled from behind his back a massive black dildo and held it firmly in his hand against his crotch. It was easily 18 inches long, maybe two feet. He pointed the gargantuan cock directly at the girls in the doorway below, and holding the dildo against his own crotch, he started humping his pelvis in an unmistakable sexual gesture. Both girls screamed at the horror of being brutally savaged by this heartless, repulsive man wielding such a terrifyingly sadistic weapon. Simple rape and murder was no longer Briana and Pavlina's biggest fear – this man was going to take depraved pleasure in grotesquely and painfully disfiguring their delicate, feminine anatomies.

Realizing the man overhead was harmless, at least for now, Nate returned his attention to the threat on the stairs. The knife brandishing Romanian shot a crooked smile, as if saying "I told you so." While the sexual sadist continued dry humping his gigantic dildo overhead, Nate planted his right foot two steps up, just against the wall, but kept his left foot firmly on the fourth step. Although Nate's body did not rise toward the knife wielding Romanian, this simple provocation enraged the man, and he came down two more steps, thrusting his outstretched knife perilously close to Nate, and started cursing at Nate. 

Anyone who has been in a real knife fight will tell you never to hold your knife way out front, the way the Romanian criminal was doing. He was using his knife as in instrument of fear, and that probably worked with everyone he faced. But not this night. An experienced hand-to-hand combatant fights like a scorpion – he holds his blade back, waits for the right moment, and then strikes with blinding speed, and instantly recoils his arm back just as swiftly, ready for the next lightning stab. 

In his position, the Romanian assailant couldn't strike so much as wave his extended arm from side to side, which is exactly what he did. When he descended those two more steps, waving his knife, Nate perfectly executed three maneuvers simultaneously. First, he crouched low with his hind left leg two steps below his front leg. At the same time, Nate reached with his left hand grabbed on to the man's knife wielding wrist. Third, Nate planted his right hand just above the man's crotch – directly on the front of his hard pubic bone. Nate's movements were so quick – just like the scorpion – that the man only saw Nate's head lower when he crouched – he didn't realize Nate had locked onto his knife wielding wrist until it was too late, and he was too distracted to even feel the heel of Nate's hand land on his pubic bone. 

Nate pulled the man's wrist forward, over his own head, dragging him down the stairs. The Romanian tried to brace and prevent himself from falling forward, but that was when Nate's coiled left leg exploded upwards from its crouched position, thrusting through Nate's spine, through his locked right arm, and vaulted the man two feet straight up in the air. Before he even realized what happened, the Romanian knife fighter became airborne as Nate lifted the man's hips skyward while simultaneously pulled his wrist forward, down the stairwell. The man's own forward momentum worked against him, and he couldn't prevent his body from taking flight. Nate's straight right arm pivoted the man's body through an arc high over Nate's head, like an Olympic pole vaulter arcing over the cross bar. 

As the man's center of mass passed over Nate's head, Nate reversed his pull on the Romanian's wrist, and now pulled the man's wrist up the stairs. This reverse motion caused the airborne Romanian to tuck his arm and head under, and he began a mid-air summersault. 

Gravity took over as Nate simply let the man continue his pole vault arc the rest of the way over his head toward the landing at the bottom of the stone stairs, but Nate still pulled the Romanian's wrist up the stairs, forcing the man to complete a mid-air roll. It was all over in less than a second. The Romanian slammed his back hard on stone floor, but his head landed short, cracking his skull wide open on the sharp corner edge of the bottom stone step. An involuntary rush of air burst out his lungs with a deep "Ooofff" as the man's chest compressed under the impact. His knife fell harmlessly out of the Romanian's hand. The man lay motionless. Nate couldn't tell if he was unconscious or dead, and didn't have time to check.

The other Romanian, who was still dry humping with the massive dildo overhead, dropped his dildo into the stairwell, and screamed in wide-eyed, open mouthed horror at the sight of his fallen comrade. His visceral, primeval reaction surprised Nate – it was not that of a seasoned criminal – but then Nate considered the Romanian he had just crumpled into the hard stone floor might be the boss's brother. "Keeger!" he yelled and stood straight, looking down into the stairwell, first at his fellow Romanian, then at Nate. In his blind rage, the perverted Romanian drew a six inch blade from his side belt, bent forward, and thrust his knife downwards towards Nate's head, threading his outstretched arm through the wrought iron bars. His panic stricken motions were clumsy and awkward. He had to first straighten his arm behind on the far side of the railing before jutting his extended arm through the bars. The maneuver took way too much time, and Nate was ready for it. The tables had turned – the vile tormentor had lost his advantage, and in his brotherly rage, the Romanian attacker was making critical mistakes. 

Nate was still halfway up the stairs and easily dodged knife thrust at his head, although one of the girls behind him briefly shrieked as the knife stabbed the air harmlessly by Nate's left ear. Now Nate grabbed the attacker's wrist with both hands, and twisted hard, forcing the Romanian's arm to over-rotate in his shoulder socket. Appreciating his self-inflicted vulnerability, the attacker tried to withdrew his arm, but Nate used his leverage against the stairs to shove the man's captured wrist sideways, away from Nate, jamming his elbow into the wrought iron railing baluster. The Romanian cursed in pain just as Keeger, the third Romanian, arrived on the scene. Keeger stood beside his crouching leader with wildly confused eyes, taking in his fallen gang member at the bottom of the stairwell and his trapped leader. Nate backed one step up the stairs, which doubled his leverage against Romanian's trapped arm, and he put his whole body behind one hard, two-handed shove. Nate snapped the Romanian's elbow backwards – bending it completely the wrong way – with a sickening crackling of bone and cartilage. The Romanian bellowed with searing pain as his knife fell from his useless hand, and the weapon bounced harmlessly into the stairwell with a metal clatter. 

Nate released the Romanian leader's arm. The gangster was no longer a threat. His broken elbow was bent so far backwards that he could not even pull his arm back through the railing. 

Nate retreated down the steps to the landing beside the dropped knife and dildo. Nate crouched low, with his legs ready to spring. Keeger, tried to help his boss unthread his tortuously fractured arm from the railing. Weary of Nate, Keeger looked over the railing, and seeing Nate too far below to intervene, reached over the railing to grapple the stricken Romanian's arm. Again, like the scorpion, Nate's crouched legs exploded upwards, and he grabbed Keeger's wrist with both hands, and then Nate fell back down into a crouch position, nearly pulling Keeger completely over the railing. Keeger's survival instincts dropped him to the cobblestone ground on the other side of the railing, preventing him from toppling over, but now his left shoulder was trapped, resting on the top rail, with his body on one side, and his arm hanging down the other side with Nate's full body weight pulling down on it. Nate used both hands on Keeger's wrists to rotate Keeger's arm, and then Nate yanked it down hard, and Keeger cried out in brutal agony. Nate twisted Keeger's wrist even more, and this time then Nate yanked down so hard his legs came off the ground. Even though Keeger was screaming with pain, Nate could still hear the sickening 'pop' when Keeger's upper arm separated from his shoulder socket. 

Nate released the useless arm, and without delay bolted hard up the stairs four at a time. In half a second he was at street level, and in another half second he had circled behind the two stricken Romanians. Nate pinned the leader's good arm behind his back, and held it there with his left hand. Then Nate reached his right hand around the leader's throat, and squeezed the Romanian's windpipe closed. The leader struggled, but Nate drove his right knee hard into the man's back, pressing him against the railing, which caused his backwards broken arm to move against the railing with searing pain. Unable to breathe or scream, the leader fell quiet. Keeger reached his good arm behind his back for his knife, but Nate saw him. Keeger looked at Nate, and Nate just shook his head with a menacing stare. With only one good arm left, Keeger had the good sense to reconsider his options, and he returned his good arm in front of him, away from the blade. The girls, standing in the stairwell below, looked up through the railing in wide-eyed shock. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03



"I have a message for you," Nate spoke clearly in perfect German to the Romanian's leader. "Do you want to hear it, or should I just kill you now?" Unable to breathe or move, the leader barely nodded his head yes. "If any one of you ever touch these girls, if you ever hurt them in any way, if you ever do anything to them they don't like, if you look at them the wrong way, there is no place you can go, there is nowhere you can hide. I will hunt you down and I will kill you. All of you. I will kill all your friends. And then I will find the filthy whores in Romania you call mothers, and I will kill them too." Nate waited a moment for effect. "Do you understand the message?" This time both Germans nodded. 

Nate looked at Keeger. "Take your knife out, slowly, and drop it gently down the stairs," he ordered in German. Keeger looked at his leader for guidance, but the Romanian's face was turning a deep crimson from lack of oxygen, and his eyes were bulging with horrifying panic. Keeger slowly reached behind him, took hold of his knife, and tossed it through the railing, letting it clatter down the stone stairs. 

Nate released his grip on the leader's throat, and the Romanian sucked in a hard recovery gasp before he fell into a raging fit of coughing. The coughing caused him to move his broken arm in the railing, leaving him with unbearable pain. He did his best to supress any further coughs, and the result sounded like a smoker's rattling wheeze. "You stay right here until after we're gone. If one of you moves, I will kill you both, like your friend down there," Nate promised in perfect German again. They both nodded.

Nate left the defeated Romanians against the railing, and trotted back down the stairs. He turned to Briana and Pavlina, who were clutching each other desperately. Nate looked to Pavlina, and spoke perfect German. "Let's go. Don't touch anything. Don't step in the blood," Nate pointed to the pool of blood collecting under the fallen Romanian's fractured skull. The girls remained huddled in the corner of the doorway, paralyzed with shivering fear. "Come on," Nate said to Briana in English, extending his hand to her. "It's all right now. It's all over."

Briana was still wearing Nate's jacket around her shoulders. She looked up through the railing at the two Romanians. They were decidedly averting her eyes, heaving labored breaths in painful distress. Then she looked down at the fallen Romanian in the stairwell. She took Nate's hand, and stepped over the bleeding Romanian. "You too," he switched to German, holding out his hand to Pavlina. Pavlina took his hand and stepped over the German body as Briana climbed the stairs. 

When the girls were half way up the stairs, Nate spoke German and told them to stop and wait. They froze in their tracks. Nate went back down into the stairwell and pulled his long shirt sleeve down over his right hand, and then using the fabric in the palm of his hand, Nate wiped down the doorway, the door, the handle, the glass – anything he thought the girls might have touched. Nate bounded up the stairs, past the girls, and he surveyed the courtyard from the top of the stairs. It was empty except for the two Romanians snivelling against the railing. Nate ushered the girls up the rest of the stairs, and told them to stand aside as he wiped down the overhead railing of any fingerprints. 

Nate looked at the Romanians, who were still cowering by the railing. It would take some time for the leader to unthread his backward broken arm through the balusters. Nate took both Briana and Pavlina by the hands and silently led them out the courtyard, turning left onto the deserted narrow street. The three walked without speaking through the twisty lanes, holding hands, until they reached the park.

"Who are you?" Briana asked, taking her hand away from Nate. She looked at him with wild, panicked eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" she yelled this time.

"Briana," Nate held his free palm up, trying to calm her, "let's get back to the apartment. You are in shock."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat the words. Pavlina didn't understand the conversation, but she didn't require a translator to see Briana was enraged and scared. Pavlina let go of Nate's hand, and walked the two steps to Briana. 

"What is the problem?" she asked softly in German. "Are you okay?"

"No," Briana answered, "I am not okay," and Briana started shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth were chattering. "Those men were going to ..." and Briana stopped. She was reliving the terror inflicted by the German men, by their graphic threats of unspeakable brutality, and quite probably, she thought, killing her afterwards. Or maybe their plan was to take Briana back to their headquarters, and gang rape her day after day, week after week, until they tired of her and sold her to an Arab prince as one of his 17 sex slave wives. Her imagination conjured grotesquely horrible outcomes, and each vision drove Briana into deeper shock.

Pavlina put her arms around the stricken Briana and hugged her while Briana shook and cried onto Pavlina's shoulder, still shaking badly. "Come on," Pavlina softly assured Briana after a few minutes. "I'll take care of you." Pavlina put her hands around Briana's shoulders and gently ushered her down the park toward the apartment building. Nate followed in silence.

There were no sirens, no radio squawks, no rushing of foot patrols. The narrow courtyard was lined by commercial establishments – stores, restaurants, and other services, all of which were closed and unoccupied at the time of the encounter. If anyone heard the few shouts from the stairwell, none of them called the police. 

The fallen Romanian at the bottom of the stairwell was dead, Nate surmised, or he soon would die from head trauma without urgent medical attention, which wasn't coming. He was pretty sure the two other Romanians were not going to call the police. They would concoct separate stories explaining each man's injuries, and then go to separate hospitals to avoid inconvenient and embarrassing questions. 

Nate figured the body would be found in the pre-dawn hours when the first employees reported to work on Tuesday. The three knives had the Romanians' own fingerprints on them, as did the dildo, which would give the police positive clues to work with. Nate was confident that, even if the police questioned the two surviving Romanians, the men were not going to admit to attempted robbery, gang rape, and murder. Thus Nate, Briana, and Pavlina were in the clear – it was unlikely they would ever be connected to the incident. Except ...

Except Nate paid with a credit card at the Italian restaurant. A thorough police investigation would canvass the surrounding buildings, including the restaurant. Someone might have heard yelling from the courtyard, but didn't think enough of it to call the police, but might later tell the investigators when questioned. There is no doubt Mazur would remember Nate and his two lovely companions. The police would ask for the credit card receipt, which would put an exact time on their activities. The timeline proximity of the restaurant credit card charge to the shouts in the courtyard would compel a competent investigator to follow up by questioning the owner of the credit card. If nothing else, the Hamburg police were thorough and competent.

Nate wasn't worried about his own actions – it was a clear case of self-defence. He was more worried about the direction a prosecutor would take. Germany has experienced a steady influx of immigrants, most of whom are fine, upstanding people, but an aggravating minority turn to gangs and crime. It has become enough of a problem that German prosecutors generally take a dim view toward any foreigner involved in crime. In the same way as Briana and Pavlina were coerced into paying an outrageous fine for a misdemeanor, for no other reason than they were foreigners, Nate would shoulder a disproportionate burden of defence compared to a German national in his situation, and there was no way of predicting which way a trial verdict would fall.

Nate did not want to have to defend himself in a court case intended to make an example of him. Nor did he want to draw attention to Briana and Pavlina. They were already walking the fine edge of law. Involving them in a criminal investigation – even tangentially – could jeopardize their chances of leaving the country unscathed. Any link to this incident could fabricate a reason to revoke their AeB status, remanding the girls in custody for months or years until the Hamburg police resolved the girls' involvement in the Romanian incident.

And, there was the small matter of the wiped down railing and doorway to remove fingerprints, and the absence of any calls to emergency services. The prosecutor might interpret those actions as circumstantial evidence supporting Nate's culpability. 

But most importantly, there was his job. Nate was a senior consultant working on an international security contract. His job required a security clearance so high, Nate was not allowed to tell people what level it was. And his clearance would most certainly come under scrutiny if he were the prime suspect in a major crime investigation. A revocation, or even temporary suspension of Nate's security clearance would prove disastrous to his contract, and perhaps to his entire career. 

Except for the threats he made about killing the Romanians' friends and mothers, which Nate could easily explain as a blusterous utterance in the heat of the moment, Nate had committed no crime. He defended himself against an armed gang who made it clear by both their words and actions they intended to kill Nate and rape and kill Briana and Pavlina. After neutralizing one armed assailant, who unfortunately died, Nate disarmed the other armed gang members with his bare hands using nothing more than reasonable force. Overall, Nate diffused the situation effectively and efficiently. The two surviving Romanians had to know Nate could just as easily have killed them both. 

Back at the apartment, Briana was settling down, but was still weary of Nate. "Apparently you speak fluent German," she said to him.

"Ya," Nate replied. 

"So what has this been all about," she gestured toward Pavlina, "me translating?"

"Look Briana," Nate explained calmly, "I haven't seen you in ten years, and I never met Pavlina before." He paused. "I didn't know how much I could trust you?"

"You!" She yelled. "Trusting us!? We haven't seen any money yet, Nate."

"And she's going to cut my dick and my balls off," Nate gestured to Pavlina with his eyes. Briana's indignation deflated a bit when she heard that. "For all I know," Nate continued, "you could be part of some scam designed to extort much more money from me, or rob me later." 

"So you think by fucking you day and night we're scamming you!" Briana accused. 

Nate sighed, realizing he was not going to win. Briana was entrenched behind her fear. He switched to German for Pavlina's benefit. "Look, if you want to call this whole thing off, I don't have to go the bank tomorrow."

"NO!" shouted Pavlina, and then turned to Briana. "What are you telling him?" Briana put her hands up in surrender, and walked up the stairs to the bathroom, and locked the door behind her. 

Pavlina turned to Nate and spoke German. "If she wants to go, that's fine, but I stay and we still have a deal. Yes?"

"I think she'll change her mind in the morning," Nate replied in German.

"Maybe yes," Pavlina cautioned, "maybe no. But you and I have a deal!"

"Yes," Nate assured Pavlina. "We have a deal."

"Good," Pavlina nodded. 

Nate regarded Pavlina for a long while. "No thank you?" he finally challenged. 

"For what?" Pavlina snorted, and then realized what Nate was driving at. "You mean for stopping them from fucking me so you can fuck me?"

"You know," Nate chided her, "it was more serious than that."

"Maybe it was," Pavlina conceded. "So," she continued after a pause, "what do you want?"

Nate unzipped his fly and lowered his pants and underpants. "I think I deserve a proper thank you," he smiled with his naked cock swinging in the air. 

"You are a real asshole," she said to him. 

"A real asshole that just saved your life," he reminded her. "And you just confirmed we still have a deal."

Pavlina rolled her eyes, but then stepped forward and dropped to her knees. Without waiting for further instructions, Pavlina took Nate's cock into her mouth, and he felt it harden between her lips as she sucked eagerly.

Nate stood near the bottom of the stairs while Pavlina offered her oral gratitude. He felt his balls start to tingle when upstairs Briana came out of the bathroom. She looked downstairs and saw Pavlina on her knees with Nate's cock in her mouth. Pavlina heard Briana but did not look up – she remained faithful to her duty. Briana and Nate met each other's eyes, and then Briana shook her hood solemnly, and walked away to the bed. 

Nate pulled away from Pavlina, and told her to take her clothes off, and he did the same. Nate told Pavlina to lie on her back, upside down on the sofa, so her head hung off the front edge of the chesterfield and her feet were up in the air. He straddled her face, and lowered his stiffened cock into her waiting upside-down mouth. Pavlina brought her hands up to assist, and Nate said no – he spoke German and told her to keep her hands at her sides. Nate started fucking Pavlina's open mouth. He reached forward and spread her upturned legs open, and slipped two fingers inside her pussy as he continued fucking her mouth. 

After five minutes of mouth fucking and pussy fingering, it became clear that, as erotic as the visual was, Nate was not going to reach Valhalla in this position. He told Pavlina to stand, and Nate lay down on the couch, and told Pavlina to lie on top of him 69 style. She planted her right foot on the cushion beside his head, bending her knee upwards, and she put her left foot on the floor. Her pussy stretched open for Nate's enjoyment, and he began to tongue-fuck Pavlina as the fair haired, blue-eyed, skinny, small breasted blonde girl leaned forward, and once again took Nate's bulging cock into her mouth. This time Nate allowed Pavlina to use her hands, and in just a few minutes, Nate felt his balls roiling. 

Pavlina sensed Nate's impending eruption, and she sucked harder, bobbing her head faster, and ribbed his shaft tighter with her encircled fingers. The extra push worked, and in just a few more seconds Nate felt is balls unleash their fury, and he pumped wave after wave of milky seed into Pavlina's sucking mouth. Nate jammed his tongue up her pussy as far as he could, and dug his fingernails into her butt cheeks. Pavlina didn't break contact, and continued to suck him as salvos of jism sprayed into the back of her mouth. Pavlina swallowed it down like a good special girlfriend, and gently, slowly rubbed her puckered lips up and down Nate's shaft after his last release. 

When it was over, Nate told Pavlina to turn around, and she lay on top of him as he hugged her tightly. "Why do you play with my pussy so often," Pavlina asked in German. Now that she knew Nate spoke German, she could ask more delicate questions without requiring Briana's embarrassed translations.

"Because you have such a nice one," Nate replied in German. "It is pretty, pink, and tight," he added. Some women have ugly pussies, with lips slapping all over. Pavlina's was a well-proportioned, sculpted work of art. And it was a tight pussy to fuck, which is always a bonus.

Pavlina thought for a while before asking her next question. "What is an arm of fire?"

Nate thought a moment, but drew a blank. "I don't know," he shrugged beneath her weight. 

"You have a card in your wallet for an arm of fire," Pavlina said, knowing she was revealing she had been through his wallet.

"A firearm," Nate nodded. "That is a gun. A pistol."

"You carry a pistol?"

"Not in Germany," Nate answered. "That card is only good in Canada."

"In Canada you are a policeman?"

"No," Nate shook his head. "I am a consultant."

Pavlina thought for a moment. "I think in Canada, consulting is a very dangerous job."

Nate smiled. "I don't use my guns very often. Mostly they stay locked up." Answering her next question, he added, "sometimes I work with other people who have guns – mostly soldiers. Sometimes I have to show them how to use a gun in certain situations. I can only do that if I am allowed to handle guns." Nate paused in thought. "I don't do that very much anymore."

"You were a soldier?" Nate nodded. "What kind of soldier?" she asked.

"Special forces," he offered casually. 

"Those are the elite forces, yes?" she verified.

"Counter terrorism," Nate qualified, "advanced surveillance and reconnaissance, special tactical operations, training." 

"And you were in the Canadian Special Forces?"

"It's called the Joint Task Force Two," Nate corrected her. 

"How did you become a consultant?"

"I became an unofficial liaison officer to AFSOC – the US Air Force Special Operations, and the German GSG-9 special forces," Nate explained. "I spent a lot of time travelling between Canada, the USA, and Germany. I became an unofficial consultant inside the armed forces. When I retired, it made sense for me to continue consulting."

"So," Pavlina put the pieces together, "you are helping Canada and Germany work together in counter terrorism?"

"Exactly."

"That is how you fought those criminal men tonight? You used your special forces training?" Nate nodded. Pavlina pondered for a moment. "Were you scared?"

"I was concerned they might have guns," Nate nodded. "That would have made the situation more difficult."

"When you said you will kill their mothers ..."

"I was scaring them," Nate interrupted. "I am not going to hunt down their mothers."

"Yes, I know that," Pavlina nodded. "I knew it at the time. But when you said that, you made me feel very safe." She paused. "Even though I know you were not going to do it, I believed that you are able to do it. You are a crazy enough idiot to do it. I think they are worried." Nate didn't respond.

"Are you angry I looked in your wallet, or looked at your computer?" Pavlina changed subjects. 

"No," Nate conceded. "I would have done the same in your position." He paused. "But please do not do that again."

Pavlina stiffened her naked body like a board on top of his, and drew her hand to her forehead in a salute. "Yes, Sir," she smiled. He smiled back, and almost instinctively, almost subconsciously, he kissed her quickly on the lips. She pecked him back, and then Pavlina wrapped her hands around his neck and they engaged in long, passionate kiss. Nate caressed her back and rubbed her shoulders in a naked lover's embrace. Pavlina broke off her kiss, and turned her head sideways, resting it on top of Nate's shoulder with nose nearly brushing against his ear. The lay naked together for another ten minutes. 

"I'm going to check on Briana," Nate said, still in German. He rolled onto his side, gently rolling Pavlina into the back of the sofa. He stood up, dressed, and climbed the stairs. 

Briana was awake, watching TV from the bed. "Did you have a good blowjob?" she sneered caustically in English. Nate ignored the question. Briana switched to German, and spoke loud enough for Pavlina to hear. "I don't know how you can have casual sex after that." Nate wanted to make a joke about it not being casual, but he knew better.

Instead, Nate picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "Briana, are you okay?" he asked in English.

"Okay?" Briana answered in English. "I came this close to being gang raped and murdered," she yelled, holding up her thumb and index finger half an inch apart, measuring how close it was. "So, no," she lowered her voice to only loud talking, "I would not say I am not fucking okay."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03



Nate wanted to tell her she was never in any real danger, but he knew reasoning wasn't going to work. Briana was having an emotional collapse, and he had to deal with her on that level. He'd seen others experience it in combat, and no amount of logic snaps you out of it.

Nate sat down beside her, and started putting his arm around her. She pushed back, but he easily overpowered Briana, and hugged her firmly. She let out a wail so loud Nate was worried the apartment neighbors would hear, but he didn't let go. He continued hugging her, and her wails faded into inconsolable sobbing. "I ... was ... so ... scared!" she cried between sobbing breaths. 

"I know," Nate whispered, and he started rocking her gently in his arms. She allowed it at first, and then matched his motion, rocking together. She continued crying a long time. 

"He was going to ... with that ...," she couldn't finish her sentence, referring to the massive black dildo. When her crying melted to sniffles, Briana moaned "you must think I am such an idiot."

"No," whispered Nate releasing his hug on her so they could look eye to eye. Her red eyes were swollen, and her face was awash with tears. "Why do you even say that?"

She looked into his eyes. "You took on three guys with knives, and it wasn't even close. And then," she gestured toward the stairs, "you and Pavlina get it on tonight like ... I don't know ... like nothing happened, and here I am – a sniveling coward shaking like a baby."

"Briana, you can't look at it ..."

"The truth is," Briana interrupted, "nothing bad actually happened to me. Here I am, a total wreck after nothing happened." She pursed her lips and blew out a raspberry, and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Briana," Nate looked into her eyes, "you had every reason to feel terrified. Those men were dangerous, and if things had gone differently ..." he let the sentence finish itself. He paused. "You are having a valid emotional response right now," Nate explained to her. "I've seen it in combat. I've seen soldiers crumple like wet rags, not because of what happened to them, but what might have happened to them." 

He paused for a moment. "Do you want to know the scariest thing that ever happened to me?"

"What?" she asked, half curious and half expecting being treated like a simpleton. 

"When I was a stupid teenager, I had this girlfriend who lived out on a farm. One day I got lost on my way to see her, and I was blazing down this back dirt road – going way too fast. I could see this intersection up ahead, and it had a stop sign, but I could tell the stop sign was facing the cross road, it wasn't my stop sign. Anyway, as I got closer to the intersection, my road made a hard bend to the left. I hadn't seen the bend before because of the tall grass alongside the road. I nearly lost control just on that turn, but I managed to stay on the road, and that's when I realized the stop sign was for me. There was no way – absolutely no way – I could stop in time – I was doing like sixty miles an hour on this old dirt road, so I hit the gas hard and crossed a really wide paved road with four lanes and paved shoulders. It turns out I crossed a major highway, and just after I reached the dirt road on the other side, I looked in my rear view mirror, and I watched two 18-wheeler trucks pass each other in opposite directions at the exact spot where I had just crossed only half a second earlier." Nate paused for a moment. "I stopped the car, and I started to shake like a leaf in a tornado. Nothing happened," Nate explained, "but in the moment after I crossed that road, I realized how amazingly close I came to dying. I got out of the car and barfed in the tall grass." 

Nate paused for a moment. "It's not about to what happened. What scares the shit out of you is what might have happened. It is okay to be emotional about that."

"That's really the scariest thing that ever happened to you?"

"Yes," Nate lied. 

"Pavlina's not scared," Briana snapped. "She seems happy and normal. And look at you," Briana opened her palm toward Nate. "You look like you just ate a turkey sandwich." Nate wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. 

"We each deal with stress in different ways," Nate explained. "Trust me when I tell you, this incident will change Pavlina, even if she does not show it tonight or admit it. As for me," Nate continued, "you know what I used to do for a living. I knew we were never in grave danger."

"So, what do I do?" Briana asked.

"Let it out," Nate assured her. "Don't hold it in. Cry if you need to. If you need to scream, scream into a pillow to muffle the noise for the neighbors. But for God's sake, don't hold it in. I've seen people do that, and it eats them up on the inside until there's nothing left."

"I want to hit someone!" Briana croaked in a low, menacing voice. 

Nate stood up, left the room, and went to the hallway closet. To Briana's surprise, he returned with a pair of boxing gloves. "Put your hands out," Nate said. Briana waved Nate off in embarrassed dismissal. "No, really," Nate assured her, "this will help. I promise." She held her hands out, and Nate tied the gloves on. "Stand up here," he said, moving to the middle of the open floor. Briana was still wearing her yellow dress, but had taken Nate's jacket off. 

Nate stood across from her. "Hit me here," he said, tapping his left shoulder. She hesitantly moved forward, and barely touched him. "Good," Nate encouraged. "Now harder." Briana put a little muscle into it, but it still felt more like a tap. "Again, but harder," Nate ordered, and this time she stepped into it, and delivered what Nate might consider a pre-warm-up light jab. "Come on," Nate now egged her, "there is nothing you can do to hurt me, so just let it go." 

With that, Briana took a hard jab at his shoulder, and actually forced Nate to rotate his shoulders a degree or two. "Harder," Nate yelled. She took another shot, but Nate was bracing for it, and it barely affected him. 

Nate switched to German. "Hit me!" he barked in German. Something stirred in Briana's primordial region of her brain. The German command reminded her of the incident at the stairs, and this time Briana turned off all the inhibitions, took one step back, and then stepped into a solid cross to his left shoulder. The impact surprised Nate, and his shoulder involuntarily rotated at least 10 degrees. He recovered quickly, and yelled "hit me again!" in German. She stepped back and into him with another hard jab. "Again!" and again, and again, Briana was gritting her teeth. Her eyes were filled with fury, and she was breathing hard with purpose. 

Nate then said in German, faking the Romanian accent as best as he could, "I am the man who will rape you, then I will kill you, and then I will defile your dead body – hit me!" Just then, Pavlina's head poked in the bedroom door – she was curious what the 'hit me' calls were all about. Nate's peripheral vision sensed the movement, and he looked over to see what it was.

Briana snapped. A part of her brain, called the Amygdala, took over. It is a small, dense region of neurons passed down through two million years of evolution that triggers the fight-or-flight response. Briana was no longer in Nate's bedroom. She was a terrified girl standing at the bottom of the courtyard stairs. But this time Briana wasn't a cowering victim. This time, her Amygdala was fighting back. Briana didn't see Nate standing in front of her. Instead her Amygdala saw the revolting man who wagged his tongue at her and threated her with his two foot weaponized penis. In a blaze of unholy fury, Briana stepped into her punch, rotating her hips then her shoulders, leveraging her entire body weight into a vicious right cross. It was just about that exact time when Nate was distracted by Pavlina's head movement coming through the doorframe, and in the split second it took for Nate to look across the room, he didn't realize Briana's right hand was aiming for the dead center of his face. 

Nate's neck snapped backward. Unprepared for this assault, his eyes welled up with impact on his nose. Nate instantly realized what happened, and chastised himself for being distracted for even that brief instant. He raised his hands to his face to deflect a second blow, his eyes watering too much to see.

But Briana's Amygdala wasn't done. This time Briana backed up two long steps, and then took a giant stride forward, planting her left foot on the floor, and then Briana swung her right leg through an arc, connecting her right foot solidly into Nate's groin. This was not your garden variety solid kick in the nuts – Briana unleashed a 60 yard punt that hammered Nate's testicles flat. 

With his hands to his face and his eyes still watering, Nate didn't see the kick coming, and he grunted hard upon impact. Nate reflexively bent forward in pain. Meanwhile Briana's Amygdala was spoiling for the final blow. Briana took two steps back again.

"BRIANA!" Pavlina screeched a high octave at the top of her lungs. "Briana stop!" she yelled again from the bedroom door.

The higher cognitive center of Briana's brain heard the dire urgency in Pavlina's screeching, and it wrestled with her Amygdala for control over Briana. For a full second, Briana stood motionless – frozen – as the two parts of her brain fought over what to do next. Her cognitive center prevailed, and Briana suddenly came to, only then realizing what she had done to Nate. "Oh my God!" she cried in disbelief, and brought her gloved hands to her mouth. "Nate," she moved forward and put her glove on his bent over shoulder, "I am so sorry."

"Well," Nate grunted, gritting his teeth in pain, "I did tell you to hit me."

"I ... I don't even know what happened," Briana faltered. "I just ... I guess I just lost control."

"But kicking me in the nuts – I am pretty sure that was your idea."

"Oh Nate!" Briana laughed and cried at the same time. "I really am sorry."

Nate shuffled to the bed and sat on the edge. Pavlina entered the room wearing her black tube top and skirt. She untied Briana's boxing gloves. Nate leaned on the bed, rocking gently forward and backward, trying to ease the pain.

Briana sat beside him, and said softly, "You're right about one thing. I do feel a lot better now."

"I am glad to be at your service," Nate gritted through his teeth. 

Briana patted Nate gently on his thigh. "So, do you want another blowjob?" she taunted him with a sly grin.

"Oh God no!" Nate waved his hand. Somehow, Nate didn't find her humor very funny. 

"Typical man," Pavlina chimed in German. "With his bare hands he eliminates three armed and dangerous men, but he does not stand a chance against a pretty woman in a cotton dress." Nate grimaced at just how true Pavlina's words were.

"I need a drink," Nate complained in English, standing up unsteadily.

"I think we all do," Briana agreed, and translated for Pavlina.

Nate hobbled down the stairs to the kitchen. The girls followed, and Nate opened a bottle of red wine, and poured out three glasses.

They sat in the living room and chatted about the night's events. "Should we call the police," Briana asked in English. Nate answered in German for Pavlina's benefit, saying no, the risk to the girls was too high. He explained how he had heard people's AeB status can be revoked simply because someone is questioned in connection to a major crime investigation. He also explained how unlikely it was that the Romanians would go to the police.

They discussed their AeB status, until Briana could stand it no longer, and had to ask. "Is that man dead?" Nate explained he might be, but he was not sure. They continued in German. 

"Were they really going to rape us?" Pavlina asked this time. 

Nate told them he didn't know, but inwardly he was certain their purpose was rape, and much worse. "They were vectoring in that direction," Nate offered his tactical analysis, "but maybe that was just a misdirection – a scare tactic, to frighten us," Nate said instead. "Remember, they asked for my wallet first". The three reconstructed the events of the attack, and considered the possibilities while Nate tried to steer them away from scaring themselves. 

"I thought we were going to die when you made us go down those stairs," Briana later mused. "But you knew that was the right thing, didn't you?"

"I needed a place where I could stand between you and them," Nate nodded. "If we stayed in that courtyard, out in the open, it would have ended very badly," Nate assured them. 

"How would it have ended?," Pavlina asked.

"As long as they could not get to you," Nate explained, "their only option was to go through me. I had the tactical advantage by being lower on the stairs. Even with the benefit of the knife, his whole front belly was exposed to me, but very little of my body was exposed to him. I could have waited all night, but he could not wait forever – eventually someone would walk along the street and call the police. So he had to come at me, and I used his circumstances against him." Nate paused. "But if we stayed up on the street level, they would have surrounded us. I would not have been able to keep between you and all of them, and eventually one of them would have put a knife to your throat, and then it would be over." The girls nodded as they appreciated Nate's description of the tactics. 

"You have killed before," Pavlina assumed. 

"I am not at liberty to discuss anything I may or may not have done," Nate answered neutrally.

"But you were in combat," Pavlina reasoned. 

"I have been deployed to combat regions," Nate deflected. The conversation fell flat as Nate finished his glass of wine. Pavlina drained her stem glass, and asked for a refill. Nate brought the bottle from the kitchen, and emptied it equally into their three glasses.

The conversation shifted to the Italian restaurant and the meal they enjoyed. The girls remarked on the lovely balcony setting. Nate did not reveal to them that his choice of venue probably triggered the attack.

After two glasses of wine each, they were ready for bed. Nate cleaned up the glasses and turned off the lights downstairs while the girls climbed the stairs, and took turns using the bathroom. Nate was last out of the bathroom, and he entered the bedroom naked, as were the girls already under the duvet. He turned out the bedroom lights, and slipped in between the two girls. Briana slipped under the covers, gently lifted his cock up, and planted a soft kiss on his testicle sack. "Get better soon," she whispered.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 04



Pay Day

When Nate awoke the clock read 6:11 on Tuesday morning. He had a memory of briefly waking earlier sometime in the night, and both Briana and Pavlina were sleeping on either side of him, facing him, and both their arms were draped over his chest. Now both girls were facing away from him. Being in the middle meant Nate had to choose someone to crawl over, and this time he chose Briana. If Nate woke her as he crawled over her, she didn't let it show. He fixed the duvet to cover her up, picked out his clothes with a fresh pair of underwear, and went downstairs. 

Nate dressed in the living room, and then started a coffee. While the espresso brewed he went to his office and opened his personal laptop, and searched the local news. It was already posted on several outlets, although very little information was available. A body was found near St Michael's Lutheran Church. Police are investigating. Nate found three separate stories that all said the same thing. There was no mention of weapons found, and certainly no mention of an oversized sex toy. "This one's for Stephanie," Nate spoke solemnly to himself. He realized it was a long time since he said that. He made a mental note: that bumped it up to a total of 27.

It is increasingly difficult for police to contain information about urban crime scenes. People are involved – someone finds the body, and they text or twitter about it, and the people who read those messages share the news onward, and by the time the police arrive, a crowd is hovering over the scene. Everyone on the scene has already taken dozens of pictures and videos, and many have posted them to the Internet. And there is always at least one person in the crowd eager to talk to the press. 

If the three knives were still on the scene when the body was found, that fact would have appeared in the initial news reports, if only as from an unconfirmed source. The absence of any weapons in the news reports left Nate with two conclusions. Either someone happened across the body and stole the knives, or more likely, the injured Romanians picked up the knives and dildo before they left the scene. 

It made sense for the Romanians to take the weapons with them. First, there's fingerprints and DNA. They also knew that, without the weapons, the police have nothing more than a suspicious death on their hands. Not to mention the Romanians would consider it poor form to leave a perfectly good weapon behind.

The coroner will report that, aside from the fatal blow to the back of the head caused when the deceased struck the edge of the bottom stone step, there are no recent fractures, contusions, stab wounds, or lacerations to indicate foul play. There would be no scrapes or bruises suggesting he fell or was pushed down the steps. The police will suspect he fell backwards, or was pushed over the railing, leaving more questions than answers. They will definitely investigate, especially if the deceased is known to the police. 

The police will discount suicide – the stairwell is too shallow a drop to assure success, which means his death was either an unlucky accident, or a homicide. The lack of fingerprints indicates someone didn't want to be connected to the scene. While it is theoretically possible the deceased wiped the scene clean before falling to his own death, the police will discredit that likelihood. By the time the police arrived at the scene, the railing would have been contaminated by palm prints and fingerprints from spectators and the original person(s) who found the body. A good detective would take elimination prints from everyone known to have been in contact with the scene, and will conclude the railing had been wiped down. 

Another thought occurred to Nate. The Romanians most likely removed any identification, possessions, money, drugs, or articles that could connect the deceased to Keeger and his boss. The lack of personal belongings on the body would further intrigue the investigators. 

A dead body devoid of all personal belongings, found under suspicious circumstances in a public space that is wiped clean of fingerprints is a red flag. The police will suspect foul play, and they will investigate the death methodically and meticulously, knowing the tiniest of clues could be the one that breaks the case wide open. And there was nothing Nate could do to stop it. 

Nate poured himself a coffee in the kitchen, and returned to his office. He checked the clock on the laptop – it was 6:32 on Tuesday morning. Nate picked up his cell phone and pulled Henry Taggart's mobile number from his contact list, and dialed. 

"Taggart" Henry answered with command authority after the first ring.

"Henry, it's Nate," Nate opened in German. Nate knew Henry Taggart checked the call display before answering, but some old habits die hard. Henry always confirmed the identity of the person before engaging in a conversation. Henry recognized Nate's voice right away 

"Nate – long time," Henry replied in German, and then switched to fluent English with a German accent. "Good to hear from you. I'm on my way to work – late for meeting. Can I call you back." Nate could hear Henry's marching footsteps on the concrete sidewalk over the background din of the street traffic. Henry lived seven blocks from his office, and walked every day. 

"This will take 30 seconds. Can we meet today?"

"Lunch?" Henry asked.

"No," Nate countered, "your office." Henry paused as he checked his smartphone calendar. 

"Ten thirty," Henry announced. 

"See you then," Nate agreed, and disconnect the call.

Nate locked his laptop screen and went upstairs. He retrieved his gym bag, and put on some socks and shoes. He left 20 Euros and a note for the girls in German:

B & P – Gone out for the morning. You can leave the apartment if you want, but you can't get back in until I come back. Go across the street for some coffee – they have good pastries and sandwiches there. I left you €20. I will meet you around noon. – N 

The girls were still asleep when Nate left at seven. He walked to his nearby gym for an overdue workout. The last time he was in the gym was Friday morning. If last night proved anything, it was staying in good physical condition is essential. Nate knew most men his age did not have the strength or skills to defend himself as well as he did last night. While Nate was no longer the lean, mean fighting machine he was in his prime combat years, he owed his command performance last night to maintaining a steady fitness regime. 

Nate left the gym at nine after showering and changing back into his street clothes, and walked to the elevated Baumwall subway station with his gym bag, and he was lucky to step on to an eastbound train without waiting. He exited two stops later at the underground Rathaus station, near city hall. He found a coffee shop, and waited for his bank to open at ten. Nate withdrew 5,000 Euro in 100 Euro bills. 

Henry Taggart's office was three blocks from city hall. He was in his office when Nate arrived on time. Henry pushed the door closed. They conducted the entire meeting in English. Nate told Henry everything, from the beginning when he met Briana and Pavlina in the park, including their Foreign National Equitable Treatment (AeB) status, the sex agreement, everything – right up to the night before when Nate and the girls went to the Italian restaurant. Henry knew the restaurant – he had been there once with his wife, but the balcony table was already occupied, so Henry and his wife dined indoors. 

Nate calmly told Henry every detail of his encounter with the knife wielding, dildo menacing Romanian gang. "Jesus, Nate" Henry whistled in astonishment. "Three armed men take you on, and you put all three in the hospital."

"Only two are in the hospital." Nate corrected, and explained the morning news report of the dead body. 

"Ah," Henry tilted his head back as he absorbed the implications of this development. "That changes the situation." Henry went online with Nate looking over his shoulder, and found the same news report. There were no further updates. 

"There is no mention of the weapons," Henry observed. Nate offered his theory that the Romanians took them. Nate speculated the Romanians probably took the dead man's belongings, and perhaps even sanitized the scene beyond Nate's quick fingerprint rubdown. Henry nodded in agreement with Nate's theories.

"It seems odd to me these three men just happened to be there on a quiet holiday evening," Henry observed.

"I don't think it was a coincidence," Nate offered. "I think they, or one of them, saw us dining up there on that open balcony, late on a holiday evening when everything else was closed. They probably know the restaurant was overdue to close. I'm guessing one guy saw me with two young, attractive women, and he called his buddies for backup. I've been in enough ambushes to know what one feels like." More accurately, Nate thought to himself, he was on the ambushing side far more often than he defended an ambush. 

"Sounds like they ambushed the wrong man," Henry offered wryly. He paused for a moment in thought before changing subjects. "You know that if the women go to the police, even as witnesses, there is a good chance their AeB status will be revoked, and who knows how long they will be remanded in custody. The police may want to keep them close for their value as witnesses in this incident. They may have to testify in a trial." He paused. "Their description of their sexual relationship with you could depict you as a predator," he cautioned. "The way you describe it, I think you are in the clear, but it has potential for a grey area," Henry assessed, meaning the girls could turn it into a "he said / she said" case if they accuse Nate of forcing them into the relationship and sex with him. 

"That's only half the problem," Nate agreed. "Forget the girls for a moment. German prosecutors have been too keen to go after foreigners. Just look at the AeB program." 

"Yes," Henry knew exactly where Nate was going. "You must have a watertight strategy before you talk to the police." Nate nodded, and began discussing options with his lawyer. Henry warned Nate he was not a criminal or an AeB lawyer, and he was not the best person to advise Nate. Nate countered that Henry was competent enough, and besides, Nate did not need a criminal lawyer, not yet anyway. Besides, Nate argued, it was better to keep the circle of insiders to an absolute minimum. Henry agreed, and by noon, Nate and Henry had mapped out a plan that would cover all the bases, including the girls. 

Nate took the subway train west to the Landungsbrucken station, and walked to the coffee shop across the street from his apartment building carrying his gym bag. The girls were sitting at a sidewalk table chatting over empty coffee cups. Briana was wearing her blue pinstripe short sleeve shirt and black skirt. Pavlina wore two-tone blue shirt that ties off at the waist and her tube skirt. The ensemble flaunted Pavlina's flat tummy. Nate ordered coffees for the three of them, and joined the girls at the table at 12:30. 

"Are you okay?" Briana asked compassionately. They spoke in English. "I mean your ... you know," she said sheepishly, referring to his bruised gonads. 

"Oh, sure," Nate waved her concern off. "The boys are a wee tender," Nate smiled, "but they'll be riding in the saddle soon, just you wait," he feigned a southern cowboy drawl. 

"I feel so bad about last night. I really am sorry."

"It's not your fault. I caused it. You experienced something called transference," Nate commentated. "You channeled all your rage for that Romanian, and transferred it onto me. It is a useful therapeutic measure," he assured her.

"Well, I am still sorry," Briana repeated. 

As they sipped their coffee, Nate scanned the street and café, and when he was confident no one was paying attention, he lowered his hand between Briana's thighs and slipped it northward, underneath her short skirt, until his fingertips found home. Briana shot nervous glances everywhere, but no one was looking while Nate tickled his finger up and down the thin fabric of her thong underwear. 

"Here?" Briana demanded in a quiet whisper after Nate withdrew his hand.

"Just curious what you were wearing," Nate answered casually in German. Pavlina was watching intently.

"We're outdoors," Briana reminded him of the obvious. "We're allowed," she objected defensively. 

Nate nodded, and took another sip of coffee. "As I said, just curious," he repeated in English.

"Feeling better now?" Briana she asked sarcastically in German.

"Much better," Nate replied in German. The rest of the conversation continued in German.

"How did you learn to speak German so well," Briana asked.

"I was stationed in Germany for three years. That was before I met you ... before you started looking after Sarah and Dillon." 

"And you were doing counter-terrorism then?" Briana asked.

Nate put his finger to his lips. "We don't talk about that in public."

"But you will finger my pussy in public," Briana shot back in an English whisper. 

"Yup!" Nate nodded, smiling. "No national security risk there," Nate quipped in German. Briana dropped her eyes to her coffee. 

"Speaking of not talking in public," Pavlina interrupted in German, "this morning we talked a long time about last night – we were in your apartment. Not out here."

"Good," Nate approved. 

"We have some questions for you, or at least I do." Just then Nate's cell phone rang. He checked the call display – it was Henry. As part of their plan, as soon as Nate left Henry's law firm, Henry's firm booked a room at the Steigenberger Hotel, and was sending someone to go over to the hotel and check in. Henry explained on the phone that Nate was to meet the law firm employee at a rendezvous point he selected at 2:15, and the employee will give Nate the keys. They discussed a few security logistics. Nate checked his watch. It was 1:10 in the afternoon. He thanked Henry and hung up.

"I can answer your questions at the hotel," Nate told Pavlina in German. 

She looked perplexed. "What hotel?"

"The hotel we are going to now," Nate answered. 

"Why are we going to a hotel?" Briana asked in English.

"We will discuss that at the hotel," Nate cautioned in English as he gestured around the public space they were sitting in. "You stay here," Nate said to both girls in German. "I will go to the apartment to get your things. I'll be back in 20 minutes." Nate left a 20 Euro bill on the table in case the girls wanted to order another coffee and snack, took his gym bag, and walked across the street to his apartment building. 

Inside the apartment, Nate gathered all the girls' clothing, which wasn't a lot, including the original clean clothing and shoes they wore when Nate met them in the park. He tossed their clothing in a small suitcase. He unlocked his desk drawer in his office and retrieved their two AeB declarations, and a professional grade Nikon camera.

For himself, Nate packed some pants and shirts with some underwear and socks in a suitcase. He picked several recreational sex toys from his bedside table drawers for some hotel fun. From the bathroom he took his shaving kit and some personal items. He dropped all those items in the suitcase, together with his camera. In his office he loaded both his work and personal laptop in a carrying case, and zipped both AeB declarations in a side pouch of the laptop case.

Nate locked up the apartment and returned to the café carrying the suitcase and his laptop case. The girls were halfway through another coffee, so he joined them. 

They left the café and walked up the gentle slope in the park just before two in the afternoon. They normally would have taken the route they took last night, through the narrow twisty roads, and they would have walked right past the courtyard where they were attacked, but Nate circumnavigated around the area, staying three blocks away from the courtyard at all times. They crossed the busy Ludwig Efhard Street and walked down a cement pathway that ran beside a Hamburg canal. Few people are aware the city of Hamburg has more canals than Amsterdam and Venice combined, Nate explained to the girls as they walked. He noted Hamburg is sometimes called the city of bridges, owing to both the hundreds of crossings over the canals and the Elbe River. Even though Hamburg is 100 kilometers inland, Nate continued his guided tour, Hamburg is Germany's largest port, and the second busiest port in all of Europe. 

They arrived at the Steigenberger Hotel, itself situated on a major canal. But they did not enter the hotel. Instead they crossed over the canal bridge, walked under an overhead subway train bridge, and crossed Rodingsmarkt Road and entered a Starbucks coffee shop. Nate pulled his wheeled suitcase into the café with his laptop case strapped over his shoulder. It was 2:12 by Nate's cell phone – he was 3 minutes early, which by German standards, he was nearly late. He spied an attractive blonde woman in her late twenties – classic Aryan German – straight blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled high cheek bones – she could have been a model, but she wore a professional dark blue business suit – a knee-length skirt and matching blazer over a prim white blouse. She sat alone facing the door, and she scanned their faces as Nate and the girls entered the café. Her eyes met Nate's, and he walked toward her.

"Are you Mr. Oxford?" she asked Nate in German.

"No, I am looking for my wife. Her name is Indira," he answered, also in German. Back in Henry's office, Nate and Henry had settled on these foreign code words, since Nate did not know Henry's lovely assistant. Old fashioned cloak and dagger tactics still work.

As the woman stood – she was nearly as tall as Nate. Briana and Pavlina caught up with Nate in the coffee shop. The professional woman didn't try to hide her up-and-down once over of the two young, skimpily dressed girls, and then looked back to Nate. "Your package, Sir," she stood up and handed Nate a plain, unmarked envelope. 

"Thank you," he replied, and the woman raised her chin before walking past the girls without another word, and she disappeared out the Starbucks door. 

Having had enough coffee for one morning, Nate and the girls retreated from the coffee shop without buying anything, and retraced their steps across the canal to the Steigenberger Hotel. They entered the main doors and Nate strode with purpose past the front desk and aimed for the elevators. The girls followed. He pressed the elevator call button, and a car opened its doors right away. Once inside the elevator, Nate opened the envelope the blue eyed blonde assistant gave him. There were three electronic room key cards, and a Steigenberger Hotel welcome card with room number 727 written on it. Nate pressed the seventh floor call button, and found his way to their room with the girls following. He unlocked the door with a card, and ushered the girls into the room. "Welcome to your new home," Nate announced as he closed and locked the door behind him. 

The oversized King bed seemed to fill half of the odd pie-shaped room. One long wall was normal, but the opposite long wall tapered toward the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the room, creating an unbalanced, blunt, triangular shaped room with the floor-to-ceiling window rounding off the point of the triangle. Nate pulled back the curtains to a window, and immediately recognized the view of the Rodingsmarkt district and the elevated train they just walked under. He could see the Starbucks logo on the building far below, where they had rendezvoused with Henry's tall, Aryan assistant. The elevated vantage point offered a bird's eye view of Hamburg's intricate canal system Nate had described during their walk earlier in the day. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 04



The girls wandered around the room in a self-guided tour, which took no time at all, and checked out the bathroom. It had a shower-tub with a clear glass door that extended only half way down the length of the tub, leaving the rest of the tub open to the room. When they converged back in the bedroom, Pavlina asked in German "So, why are we here?" The three of them stood next to the large window and looked over the city as they talked.

"Because I don't want the police talking to you about the incident last night. They will revoke your AeB status," Nate answered. He motioned them to sit down on the side of the bed, facing the window. He pulled a white armchair over to sit across from them, and sat facing the girls. They were seated on the edge of a high mattress bed. As Nate sank into the lower chair facing them, he couldn't avoid looking up their short skirts. Briana sensed his incidental voyeurism, and crossed her legs. Pavlina either didn't notice or didn't care, and left her legs slightly parted, revealing she, unlike Briana, was not wearing any underwear. 

"Is that man really dead?" Briana asked in German. Nate explained yes, the news reported a body was found at the bottom of that stairwell, and police are investigating. He speculated that the man suffered a fatal blow to the back of his head when he cracked his skull on the bottom step.

"Should we go to the police?" Briana asked next. Pavlina shot back no. Nate explained his plan. They will wait out the investigation until Pavlina and Briana leave. If the police come knocking at Nate's door, they won't find him. He explained the credit card charge at the restaurant, and how that transaction could link Nate to the incident as a person of interest. He also explained his theory of how the police found no knives at the scene, and it was likely that the Romanians retrieved them, as well as the personal effects from the dead body. It is almost certain they took the dildo, because leaving that behind would stir the police to investigate along vectors the Romanians did not want. It was also possible that the Romanians further sanitized the scene to remove their own fingerprints. Nate and the girls discussed the possibilities over the next half hour, speculating and endless assortment of what-if scenarios. 

In the end, Nate said they have no control over what the police do. They will look for Nate, or they won't. They will connect the girls to the incident, or they won't. "Those elements are out of our control," Nate explained. "That is why we moved to this hotel. We are registered under my lawyer's name, so the police cannot track us to this room." Nate was referring to the national hotel registry system, in which all hotels are required to transmit the names of every guest the check in each day to the government.

"But, if we do not go to the police, doesn't it look even worse if the police finally do come looking for us," Pavlina observed accurately.

"Right," Nate agreed. "That is why I will go to the police next week after you are both out of the country." The girls looked at each other nervously. "You had nothing to do with the incident" Nate continued. "The police will never believe you had any part in taking down a gang of three armed men. A former special forces officer," Nate said, tilting his head to one side, "is a different story." Nate told them of his conversation with Henry, a lawyer and friend Nate has known a long time, and whom Nate trusts. He told them that Henry thinks there is a high risk that Briana and Pavlina's AeB status will be revoked, and they will be re-arrested on the trespassing charges, and held for months, maybe years as a witness to a major crime. But once the girls leave the country, Henry had assured Nate, the girls' AeB status will have been closed, and they will be just two more people whom Germany cannot extradite merely because they might have witnessed a crime.

"What happens if we show up to pay our fine and retrieve our passports, and they arrest us then because our fingerprints were found on the stairs?" Pavlina asked. 

"We can't control that," Nate observed. "Your only other option is to disappear – run away – which is something Henry and I discussed. We both think it is a very bad idea. In fact," Nate expounded, "because you were travelling together, if one of you runs away, the police will almost certainly arrest the other and revoke your AeB status." Nate stopped, recollecting a forgotten thread. "The whole problem revolves around if the police found your fingerprints at the scene. That is a big if. Yes," Nate conceded, "I worked quickly, but I was thorough when I wiped down the doorway, the door, and the railing."

"What about our DNA?" asked Briana.

"It is possible they collected DNA from the scene, including yours," Nate explained, "but even if they did, they don't have your DNA on file for comparison. Your DNA will not lead the police to you, but it could confirm your involvement after the police take you into custody."

"Can they trace our footprints – our shoes?" Briana asked again.

"Probably not," Nate ventured. "It was all cobble stone and cement there. I checked the stairs, and no one stepped in any blood to leave any footprints. But even if they found some footprints, it would take a long time to trace the shoes to you. Remember, I purchased them in my name, and I could stonewall the police long enough for you two to leave the country. You would be deep in the Canadian winter before they figured that out," Nate assured her.

"So," Pavlina summarized, "we do nothing, and hope for the best. After we leave Germany, you go to the police, and tell them everything."

"I probably won't mention how I threatened to kill their friends and mothers," Nate referred to his warning to the Romanian thugs last night, "but I will tell them everything else."

"And you will wait until after we leave so that we do not get arrested again."

"Yes," Nate nodded.

"And we should just trust you will help us," Pavlina challenged, this time with obvious cynicism. Nate didn't know how to respond. "So you can fuck us, yes?" Pavlina continued. "And what else?"

"Pavlina, I'm not sure ..."

"In fact," she cut Nate's answer off, "you were planned this all along. You and your lawyer friend trapped us in this hotel room. I have to fuck you and your lawyer buddy, and do whatever else you will have me do. If I do not, you call the police and I will go to jail for years. So now that you have me where you want me, what more do I now have to do for you?"

"I don't understand," Nate furled his eyebrows. 

"Will you piss on my face while your lawyer fucks me up my ass? Will you tie me up and whip me? Do I have to fuck all your army friends? Or will you pimp us out like whores on the Reeperbahn for money? What do I have to do now?"

Nate sat back in his seat, taken aback by her unwarranted attack. "Our deal doesn't change," he assured her. "I am doing this to help you."

"You are talking shit," Pavlina scorned. "Men like you don't just help women like me."

"Our deal doesn't change," Nate repeated. He stood up. Across from the bed, against the angled wall, a wide, shallow table held the television and a lamp. Nate pulled his wallet from his pants pocket, and dropped fifty 100 Euro bills the table. He retrieved two of the three room key cards from the envelope and placed them on the table beside the money. Then he pulled the AeB declarations from his laptop case, and dropped them on the table. "There's half of the AeB money, like I promised," he pointed to the stack of bills. The girls, still seated on the edge of the bed, looked hard right to see the table. "There's your hotel keys, and your AeB papers. You can stay, or you can go."

Both girls looked at the stack of money in dumbfounded silence. 

"You are serious?" Pavlina asked skeptically.

"I am serious," Nate assured her, sitting back down again across from her. "The deal does not change, and I will do everything I can to help you return home safely."

"If you are such a saint, why did you make us fuck you?" Pavlina demanded.

"Make you!?" Nate chided incredulously. "I didn't make you do anything."

"You are talking shit again," Pavlina snapped. "You told Briana she fucks you or you keep her AeB paper, and she goes to jail. You told her if I don't fuck you, you call the police and I go to jail. You asshole!" she shouted the last two words. 

"Force?" Nate asked incredulously. "Go to Jail?!" Nate fired back at Pavlina. "I didn't make Briana or you do anything. In fact, Briana offered," Nate said calmly, gesturing his chin at Briana, who was sitting to Pavlina's right on the bed.

"What do you mean she offered?" Pavlina asked sharply.

"I mean," Nate spoke slowly, now looking at Briana in a new light, "Briana offered to have sex with me, and asked me to pay for the AeB and airline tickets in return." Nate added, "and she told me she would talk to you, and ask you to offer me the same deal, but she told me she didn't think you would go through with it."

Pavlina took three whole seconds to process what Nate just said. She looked at Briana beside her on. "You offered? You pimped me to Nate?"

Briana balked with embarrassment and indignation. "Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound right," she defended with mock outrage. 

"What other way is there to put it?" barked Pavlina curtly. "Did you offer me to him or not?"

"Well ... I just want you do know I had your best intentions ..."

"You fucking bitch!" Pavlina snarled at Briana with wild anger, and stood up. Briana recoiled in surprise. Pavlina spun on her heel and faced Briana, wagging her finger. "You lied to me. You told me in the park that Nate," she pointed toward Nate in the chair beside her, "told you we both had to fuck him or he would call the police and we would both go to jail."

"Briana," Nate joined the argument with unguarded surprise. "I never told you ..."

"SHUT UP!" Briana yelled at Nate in English. She started crying, and buried her face in her hands.

A piece of the puzzle just fell into place. Last night, when Briana was threatening to quit the deal, Pavlina insisted, nearly begged Nate keep his side of the bargain with Pavlina. Now that made sense. Pavlina thought she and Briana were a package deal, and she believed Briana's withdrawal from the bargain would kill Pavlina's pact with Nate.

Nate looked up at Pavlina standing beside him. She was livid. 

"Briana," Nate asked in English. "Why did you do that? Why did you lie to Pavlina?" Briana just shook her head in her hands without saying a word. "Briana," Nate persisted, still in English "you need to tell me."

But Briana just stood up, and started for the bathroom. "No you don't," Nate snapped at Briana in German, letting Pavlina in on the conversation. "You don't walk away without explaining yourself."

Briana turned toward Nate, her eyes red and swollen. "What does it matter?" she said in English. 

"It matters to Pavlina," Nate replied in German. "It matters to me. We had a deal that I thought was made in good faith." 

"It doesn't matter," Briana shrugged. "You got what you wanted," she said to Nate in English.

"It does matter," Nate repeated in German. "Pavlina thinks I am a horrible man who forced you both to have sex with me. I am not that man. Did I take advantage of an opportunity?" Nate asked rhetorically? "Of course I did. But Briana, you clearly and explicitly offered yourself to me, and I thought Pavlina was given an honest choice. It matters that you tell the truth. If you cannot do that, then you can leave." Briana stood silent for several seconds. 

"NOW!" Nate barked loudly in English, pointing at the hotel room door.

Briana visibly jolted at Nate's command. Then her shoulders sagged as she hung her head in shame. "I was afraid," she said in English.

"In German," Nate corrected. 

"I was afraid," Briana sighed with embarrassed regret in German, this time looking at Pavlina. "I was afraid to be alone with him. I know that sounds silly, but it's true. I made up that story so you wouldn't leave me alone."

Nate stood up, walked to the narrow table, and picked up the pile of 5,000 Euros, and put it back in his wallet, which he pocketed. Pavlina's eyes went wide with fear. "What are you doing?" she asked cautiously.

"I am not sure I want to continue this," Nate replied to Pavlina in German. 

"What is it you need, Nate?" Pavlina asked.

Nate thought about her excellent question. "I need to know we can trust each other." Nate paused. "I meant what I said, Pavlina. I will help you, but I can't do this if I can't trust you both."

"Then maybe you should be more truthful with us," Pavlina snapped back

"I've never lied to you," Nate retorted. 

"Maybe not, but you haven't been completely honest either. You pretended not to speak German so you could eavesdrop on my conversations with Briana." Nate started to speak, but Pavlina interjected first. "I'm not saying one is the same as the other, but if you are asking for honesty, then I think you need to lead by example."

Nate put the money back on the table. "Okay," he agreed in German. "You can take the money and leave, or stay, continuing the same deal for another 5,000 Euros on Friday plus airfare. You can both leave, both stay, or one or the other. Your choice."

"I will stay," Pavlina said without hesitation, "with the same conditions. Fucking, sucking, fingering, kissing. Fucking with a condom only. No fucking in the ass, No sick stuff." She looked at Nate, and then at the money on the table. They both looked up at Briana, still standing halfway toward the bathroom. 

"I'll stay," Briana pouted. 

"And I," Nate offered, "will do my best to return both of you home safely." An awkward silence filled the room. "Maybe this is a good time for make-up sex," Nate smiled in German, but used the English term 'make-up'.

"Oh, the make-up," Briana remembered. "Pavlina and I realized this morning we left the make-up at the restaurant."

"What make-up?" Nate asked. 

"We bought make-up and toothbrushes at the drug store, and then we went to the restaurant. We forgot the bag at the restaurant."

Nate thought a moment. "You are sure you left it at the restaurant, and not in the stairwell?"

"Yes," Briana nodded. "I didn't have it with me in the stairwell. I'm certain."

This was a big problem. No, Nate realized, it was a disaster. The girls' clean fingerprints would be all over the product packaging. The restaurant owner, waiter, and greeter will clearly remember Nate and two younger women who dined there last night, and they will almost certainly tell the police about the shopping bag they left behind. 

Nate pulled out his cell phone out of his pocket, and called Henry's mobile. Luckily, Henry was eating a late lunch at his desk, and answered Nate's call. Nate told them there were in the hotel room, and explained the new development in German so Pavlina could listen to his side of the conversation. Henry immediately appreciated the gravity of the situation. 

"You can't go back to get it," Henry warned Nate.

"I know," Nate nodded. 

"I'll take care of it," Henry said. "Stay away," he cautioned Nate. "The women too."

"Thanks," Nate said. "Call me when you have it." Henry agreed and disconnected the call.

"He will go to the restaurant and get it?" the naked Pavlina asked.

"More likely he will send his assistant. It is less suspicious if a woman goes to the restaurant and asks for it."

"So there is nothing more we can do?" Pavlina asked. Nate shook his head no. 

"So what," Briana asked sullenly in German, "we're supposed to have make-up sex now?"

"No," Pavlina walked over and picked up the pile of money and the AeB documents. "First we put the money in a safe place. Then ..." she looked at Nate with an evil grin, "then we spank Briana."

"I asked for a room with a safe," Nate noted, but felt his manhood swell as he visualized Pavlina and he taking turns spanking Briana. They found the safe in the front hall closet. It was nearly exactly the same kind as the one in Nate's apartment. Nate showed the girls how to use it, and how to choose their own combination. Then Nate walked away so he couldn't see the combination, and Pavlina put the money and the AeB documents in the safe, and the two girls selected a combination together and locked it. 

"So what now?" Pavlina asked.

"First the spanking," Nate recited with a smile, "then the oral sex." Neither girl appreciated his Python reference. Thinking Nate's joke was a command, Pavlina went to the wide, shallow table the television rested on. Tucked beneath the table rested a long bench padded with red fabric. The bench could be pulled out for someone to sit on while watched TV up close. 

Pavlina pulled the red padded bench into the floor space between the television and the end of the bed. "Come take your spanking," Pavlina said in German as she patted the bench fabric with her hand while looking at Briana.

"I don't take orders from her," Briana told Nate in English.

"No, but you take orders from me," Nate replied in German, "and right now I am ordering you to do everything Pavlina tells you to do." Briana looked back at Pavlina, who sneered back at her with a knowing smile. Briana shook her head in surrendered disbelief, and walked slowly to the red padded bench. Pavlina told her to kneel on the end of the bench, and then rest her hands on the bench in front of her. As she took her position, her short black skirt rode up her ass, revealing her thong panties. 

While Pavlina pondered what to do next, Nate went to his suitcase and retrieved his professional Nikon camera. He walked behind Briana and took a 3/4 profile position behind her ass so he could see her resting on her hands and knees on the bench with her exposed panties. He set the aperture to f/5.6, zoomed to frame the whole bench in the shot, focused, and squeezed off a few shots. He switched the selector to video.

Briana had not noticed Nate's camera, but she heard the shutter click a few times, looked back, and saw his camera. "Whoa!" Briana called out as she stood up from the bench, facing Nate. She pressed her short skirt back in place. "You're not taking pictures of me. No fucking way!" she exclaimed in English. 

"Any way, anywhere, any time," Nate spoke in German, reminded both Briana and Pavlina of their deal. "This is part of any way."

Briana and Pavlina nervously exchanged words in German, and Nate could tell it was not going well. "If it makes any difference," Nate interjected in German, "I promise no one but me will ever see them. Ever."

And if we say 'no', is the deal off?" Pavlina asked.

"Here's the camera, there's the door," he gestured to the hotel room door. It was an overused cliché, but an effective one.

"So if you're never going to show them to anyone, what do you want them for?" Briana challenged. 

"For later," Nate explained. Briana's stomach churned into a sickening knot. 

Reading Briana's unguarded disgust, Pavlina asked "What does he mean, 'for later'?" She thought it was slang term she didn't know. 

"He will jerk off to them after we go home," Briana spat the words with contempt. Nate was impressed Briana knew the German word 'wichsen'.

Pavlina shrugged her shoulders. "Okay," she said in universal language, looking first at Briana, then to Nate. 

Briana involuntarily shuddered at the thought of any man masturbating over her picture. Her skin actually crawled at the image of Nate spewing his load all over her face displayed on his laptop. It made it all the worse that it was someone she knew. Briana looked at Pavlina, who shot back her eyebrows, as if to say 'what's the big deal?' Briana was outvoted, not that she had any democratic rights in the matter. 

"If I ever see one of these on the Internet," Briana scolded Nate in English, pointing at his camera, "I will tell everyone you are a sodomizing pedophile. I will tell the police you ass raped me all those years I babysat for you. I don't care if they don't convict you – I will fuck up your life." 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 04



"No problem," Nate assured her. He had every intention of keeping his word – no one else would ever see these pictures. Nate nodded slightly at Pavlina, letting her know she could continue.

"Back up on the bench," Pavlina said to Briana with a malicious grin as she tapped the bench.

"I don't fucking believe this." Briana muttered to herself in English as she walked to the bench with resigned spirit. 

"Hey wait," Nate told the girls in German. "Pavlina, move the bench over here," he pointed to the larger open floor space beside the bed closer to the large window. The lighting would be better, and there was more room to maneuver to take better shots. Pavlina picked up one end of the bench and dragged it over the carpet flooring to Nate's preferred location. She ordered Briana to kneel on the bench again, and lean forward with her hands resting on the fabric. Once again, Briana's skirt rode up her hips as she assumed her position. 

Nate decided to switch his camera back to still photography mode. He took up a position in the corner, next to the window, again in 3/4 profile behind Briana's ass. The natural lighting through the window was much better. He fired off a few shots, first while he was standing, then he squatted down for lower angle. Nate pulled a white, round ottoman that matched the chair he was originally sitting in when he spoke with the girls. He dragged the ottoman to the corner, and sat on it. It put the camera's lens in perfect line with Briana's ass. 

Nate switched the camera into HD video mode, and started recording. "Pavlina, take her underwear off," he ordered from behind the camera. Pavlina took up a position behind Briana, blocking Nate's shot. "No," Nate corrected, "stay out of my shot. Go on that side of her," he gestured Pavlina to stand between the bench and the bed, so that she would be facing the window and her face would be naturally illuminated. Pavlina looked to where Nate was pointing, and then stepped out of the shot, bent over, and grabbed the sides of Briana's panties. Nate captured everything in ultra-high definition as Pavlina unsheathed Briana's womanhood. She pulled the underwear to Briana's knees, and then told Briana to lift one knee, then the other, and Pavlina discarded the undies to the floor.

"Briana" Nate directed in German, "lower your shoulders to the bench, and set your knees as wide apart as you can." She started with the knees, widening them until they were on the edge of the red cushion, then she bent all the way forward, dropping her face to the bench, as Nate zoomed in on her fully exposed pussy. The skirt was blocking some of the natural light, so Nate told Pavlina to hike Briana's skirt up high, and with her skirt pulled inside out to her rib cage, Briana's pussy now shone in the afternoon glow.

"Pavlina, stroke her pussy gently," Nate ordered. He zoomed out, capturing both girls in the frame. Being sure to stay out of Nate's shot, she brought her right hand to Briana's open pussy and lightly ran her fingers up and down the length of her slit. Nate slowly zoomed in on Pavlina's fingers rubbing up and down Briana's tender pussy until her ass filled the whole frame. 

Nate zoomed out again. "Pavlina, spank Briana's pussy." Pavlina's caress turned into light love taps directly on Briana's womanhood. Nate zoomed closer. "Harder," he ordered, and now Nate could faintly hear the light slapping noise of her fingers on Briana's most tender skin. "Harder" he ordered, and Pavlina eagerly complied, slapping the tips of her fingers against Briana's soft flesh. "Harder," Nate ordered, and harder again, and harder, until Briana was saying "Ow!" on each slap. 

"Briana, don't move or we will start all over again. Count your spankings out loud to one hundred." Pavlina continued spanking with the same pressure, but Briana didn't count. "Briana," Nate warned, "the longer you wait to start counting, the more spanking you will receive."

"Eins" Briana called out – one in German after the next spank. "Zwei," after the next, then "Drei." She continued counting in German while Pavlina spanked. Briana gripped the edge of the bench hard with her fingers.

"Harder," Nate commanded to Pavlina around 30, whose hand was getting tired, and she had backed off the intensity of her slaps. 

"Neunundneunzig" Briana called out after several minutes, and then finally "einhundert" – one hundred. Pavlina stopped. 

"Well, that's the first half of your punishment," Nate confirmed. He stopped the video recording. "Briana, you can go lie on the bed and relax while I work with Pavlina for a while." Without a word Briana stood up from the bench, pushed her skirt down over her legs, and climbed onto the bed. She lay on her side, with her back to Pavlina and Nate, and curled into a fetal position. 

Nate told Pavlina to stand beside the bench. Nate brought the camera up, and zoomed in on her gorgeous face. Her blue eyes sparkled in the natural light and her blonde hair radiated a healthy glow. He started the video again, and slowly zoomed out from Pavlina's face, taking in her slim figure with a bare midriff and her long, bare legs. When he had Pavlina in the entire frame, he told her to unbutton her shirt. She started at the top, and unfastened each button until the entire shirt was loose, save for the knot at the bottom, holding the two halves of the shirt together. He told her to untie the knot. 

Pavlina looked down, and undid the first of a double knot, loosened the remaining knot, and then slowly, tantalizingly pulled the two halves apart. She opened the shirt, revealing her small firm tits with red nipples. Nate zoomed in, capturing Pavlina's upper body in the frame. Then he zoomed in again, focusing only on her small but perfectly rounded tits. 

He zoomed out and told her to drop the shirt. Nate fit the topless Pavlina into the full frame. He told her to lift up her skirt, and give him a peek. She reached down, pulled the hem of her skirt up, and Nate zoomed in as her naked pussy was barely viewable behind the skirt. Nate told her to take the skirt off as he zoomed back out, capturing her actions. It was a tube skirt, and removing it was a simple matter of pushing it down her thighs, which Pavlina did, leaving her naked.

Now Nate stood up, still running the video. "Lie on your back on the bench," he told her, "with your head at the far end." She did, and Nate's camera watched as she settled into her reclined position. He told her to bring her knees up toward her body, and she pointed her knees to the ceiling. "Now open your legs as wide as you can," Nate ordered, standing at the foot of the bench. Pavlina easily opened her legs so her thighs were flat, leaving her knees hanging off the side of the bench. Nate zoomed in on her split open pussy, and then panned slowly up her body, pausing at her lovely small tits, and resuming upward, resting on her gorgeous blue eyes. 

Nate stopped the video recording, and rested his suitcase on top of the ottoman. He set the camera on the suitcase, pointing at Pavlina. Nate checked the viewfinder, zoomed out until he had Pavlina in the whole frame. With his makeshift tripod in place, Nate started the video recording again. He told Pavlina to keep her legs wide open, and to play with herself until she had an orgasm. He told her to make it look good for the camera. 

With Pavlina busy on the bench, Nate crawled onto the bed with Briana. He guessed she would need some coaxing to come back after her pussy spanking. She was lying face down on the bed, so he unzipped the back of her skirt, and pulled it part way down. She did not lift her hips, so he rolled her over. She didn't resist, but she didn't help either, forcing Nate to roll her deadweight body over. Briana lay on her back and she closed her eyes. Nate unbuttoned her blue shirt and pulled it open, revealing her spectacular tits. He suckled on her left nipple while playing with her right. She made no sound. 

Nate pulled her skirt the rest of the way down her legs and tossed it aside. By now Pavlina was making moaning noises on the bench. She was either approaching climax, or she was faking it – the camera wouldn't care. Nate returned his attention to Briana, and gently caressed her breasts. 

Pavlina was getting louder. "Let's not let Pavlina have all the fun," Nate spoke softly in English. No reaction. "Come on," Nate prompted, "get up," as he tugged gently on her arm. Briana yanked her hand away and rolled away from him on the bed, leaving her back to Nate. "Briana," calmly and quietly spoke into her ear, "if you push me too far, I won't threaten you. I'll just kick you out. No money, no ticket home, no place to go, and no second chances."

Briana rolled back and opened her eyes. She propped herself up on her elbows, and looked left to Pavlina, who was rubbing her fingers back and forth over her clit with lightning speed, creating a blur of knuckled flesh. Her breathing was quickened and shallow. It certainly looked real. Her knees were no longer spread wide flat – she had rested her feet near the end of the bench, and she was using the leverage to rock her hips up and down as she rubbed her clit feverishly.

"What is she doing?" Briana asked in English, completely naked except for her shirt, which rested completely open.

"You really need to ask?" Nate answered with a tone of incredulity. 

Briana looked at the camera propped on the suitcase. "You recording this?"

"Every last detail in ultra-high definition," he said with delightful anticipation of one day reviewing the video. 

They watched together as Pavlina bucked her hips upward. She brought her left hand in beside her right, pulling the skin beside her vulva tight while increasing the masturbatory tempo with her right hand. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she started crying, and thrust her hips off the bench, and then let out a long wail as she closed her eyes and flung her head back. After the bliss subsided, Pavlina let her hips rest back on the bench. "I really needed that," she admitted in German.

Her cheeks were flushed and her chest glistened with perspiration. This was no act. Nate climbed off the bed and switched the camera off. He leaned over Pavlina, who was still lying naked on the bench, and kissed her gently on the lips. "Time to give Briana a turn," he said in German. 

"If you think I'm going to ..." Briana chided in English before she checked herself, remembering what Nate had just told her about not pushing him too far. She drew in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Nate wanted to slap her for giving him attitude, but he was concerned she was too close to her limit. Better to discipline her later. 

Pavlina stood up, and walked naked to the bathroom. In her absence, Nate told Briana to take her shirt off and lie back on the bench in the same position – with her knees opened wide apart. Briana didn't have the flexibly Pavlina did, but she was still able to open her legs quite wide. Nate picked up the camera and told her to put her hands behind her head. He walked around Briana and took snapshots from all angles and zooms, including some up-the-pussy close-ups and breast shots he knew he would enjoy later. 

Pavlina returned from the bathroom. "Just in time," Nate greeted her in German. "Come over here." He told Pavlina to stand at the head of the bench, facing Briana. "Now, put your feet on either side of the bench and walk forward until you are over her face," Nate ordered. The bench was wide enough that Pavlina had to open her legs considerably. She semi-squatted with her legs straddled on each side of the low bench, and then pivot-walked forward until Briana looked directly up into her freshly climaxed pussy. "Squat down onto Briana's face," he ordered, and he shot several still pictures as Pavlina carefully lowered herself. "Now lean forward, and start licking Briana's pussy," he ordered, "and Briana, I want so see your tongue going all the way up Pavlina's pussy. Nate fired up the camera's video recorder. 

He started at the foot of the bench, recording Pavlina lowering herself to meet Briana's pussy. Obediently, she started licking the top of her pussy, just over Briana's clit. Nate zoomed in for a close-up, then zoomed back out and slowly walked around, keeping the girl-on-girl action in the frame. Once at the head, he told Briana to start licking, which she had not yet done. He reminded her he wanted to see her tongue go all the way up Pavlina's pussy. 

She stuck her tongue out, and barely brushed Pavlina's outer pussy lips. "You can do better," Nate scolded. Briana closed her eyes, held her breath, and lifted her head to meet Pavlina's crotch, and then stuck her tongue as deep as it would go up her snatch. Nate zoomed and panned from side to side for several close-up angles on the action. 

He rested the camera on the edge of the bed, still pointed at the girls and still recording, and then Nate went to his suitcase and retrieved two life-sized natural-colored dildos, complete with ball sacks. Then Nate thought about last night, and girls' reaction to the two-foot dildo the Romanian menacingly used to threaten the girls with sadistic sexual torture, and Nate put the dildos back, fearing a PTSD-like response. Instead, he picked up the bullet vibrator he had used on Briana before, and brought it over to the red bench.

Nate went to the far side of the bench so he did not block the camera's view of the girls. As he did, and looked out the window, Nate realized the window was backlighting the girls for the camera, and the resulting video would be unusable. So he picked up the camera, and put it on a ledge on the window, facing the girls, exploiting the natural lighting on the girls. 

Now Nate walked to the new far side of the bench, and told Pavlina turn around, so she was facing toward the head of the bench, but keep her pussy over Briana's face. Then he told Briana to set her feet on the floor beside the bench. The girls did as they were told. Briana lay on her back on the bench with Pavlina's pussy resting right on her face, and Briana's knees were just wider than the bench so her feet could touch the floor. 

With her legs draped over the edge of the bench, Briana could not close her thighs, giving Nate free access to her pussy. Nate pushed the hidden button on the bullet vibrator and began rubbing it sideways over Briana's hooded clit, and immediately Briana moaned in appreciation to the familiar sensation. Briana steadied her feet on the ground and used the leverage to rock her hips in response to Nate's clitoral stimulation. Nate rubbed the bullet vibrator sideways for a minute, and then changed direction, and rubbed the vibrating bullet up and down her slit, burying it deeper on each stroke, until it was bumping over her clit. 

With nothing else to do with her hands, Briana grabbed Pavlina's thighs, and puller her face up into Pavlina's pussy and moaned louder into Pavlina's crotch. Nate rubbed the bullet faster and harder over Briana's clit, and soon Briana's whole body was undulating in waves, like a street performer doing the worm. As Briana closed in on another record breaking orgasm time, she absentmindedly drilled her tongue in and out of Pavlina's fuck hole.

Very quickly Briana erupted into orgasm, and her hips heaved right off the bench. Nate held the vibrating bullet directly on Briana's clit, and pressed hard. Blind with explosive ecstasy, Briana sucked hard on Pavlina's exposed twat, and the abrupt sensation caused Pavlina to yelp with surprise, and a little pain, but Briana used her arms to pull Pavlina harder into her mouth, and sucked even harder. 

Briana finally relaxed, and she released Pavlina's pussy from her suckling mouth, and let her hips rest back onto the bench. Pavlina climbed off Briana's face and went to the bathroom to check for vulva damage in the vanity mirror. Nate stopped the video recording, then he put away the bullet, and finally lay down on the bed, and patted the sheet beside him, gesturing Briana to join him. 

Having assured herself Briana caused no damage to her most tender tissues, Pavlina came back to the room, and joined Nate on the other side. They lay together for nearly an hour, repositioning themselves from time to time. 

Nate left the naked girls in bed and got dressed. Pavlina found the remote control and turned the TV on, and found a reality show about people doing nasty things to each other in a home wired with hundreds of video cameras. Briana wanted to surf the web – she hadn't checked her email or Facebook for days, and she had no cell phone. Nate lent her his personal laptop while he used his business laptop to check in with the office.

Nate's cell rang – he didn't recognize the number. The woman calling explained she worked with Henry, and she was downstairs in the lobby with a parcel for Nate. Nate looked at the bed – the naked girls were partially under the covers, so he said he would come down. In the lobby, Nate found the same tall, blonde woman in the blue business suit from Starbucks. She handed him the drug store shopping bag she had retrieved from the Italian restaurant. Nate thanked her as he took the bag. The woman nodded curtly before expediting her retreat from the hotel lobby.

Nate barely returned to the hotel room with the girls' cosmetics when his phone rang again, also with a number he didn't recognize. Thomas Brandt introduced himself as a lawyer specializing in immigration and deportation law that Henry Taggart had engaged on behalf of the girls. This was part of Henry's plan with Nate. Too often people subject to the AeB program show up expecting to be free to travel, only to find out some new condition had been added to their release they didn't know about, or the police fabricated some excuse, and they get railroaded into staying in Germany for months. 

Henry said he had previously worked with a lawyer who knew his way around the AeB system. Nate agreed, but insisted Brandt not be told any details relating to last night's incident with the Romanians in the courtyard. Presently, Thomas Brandt asked if he could speak to the two ladies in question. Nate configured his mobile phone into a speakerphone. 

Thomas spoke to both of girls individually over Nate's speakerphone, first Briana, then Pavlina. He asked for their full legal names, permanent home addresses, nationalities, and dates and places of birth. He asked Briana if she could read details off her AeB declaration paper. Briana said to wait a moment while Pavlina went to the hotel safe and retrieved both AeB papers. Briana read her AeB case number to the lawyer, as well as the precinct, officer badge number, and date of expiry. Then Thomas asked Pavlina for all the same information.

Thomas explained the police must provide a minimum of 24 hours' notice of any new conditions attached to the AeB case, so he will go to the police station on Thursday morning, and demand to see any notices relating to their case files. The lawyer explained that tactic had two advantages – first, it would forewarn the girls of any new conditions, but equally importantly, the police, who knew, respected, and perhaps loathed Thomas, would immediately recognize that Briana and Pavlina are represented by competent counsel, and the police would resign themselves to administering the girls' AeB files fairly and promptly.

Thomas told them he would call again on Thursday at 10 in the morning with any news and to arrange the final logistics of meeting at the police station on Friday. Contrary to what the police told Briana and Pavlina, Thomas told them not to book any airline flights now, that it is not recommended, and sometimes quite impossible if the airlines require a passport number (which Briana does not have) to book an overseas flight. He would explain further details on Thursday and Friday.

Nate spoke up and told Thomas that, if he couldn't reach Nate or the girls, to contact Henry and leave a message. Thomas acknowledged the instruction, and said goodbye.




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 04



They sat quietly for a few seconds. "So you hired two lawyers and a hotel room," Pavlina said to Nate, "and that is only what we know about." Nate nodded. "Who pays for all this?"

"I guess I do," shrugged Nate.

"So you will pay us 5,000 euros each, our airfare, our lawyers' fees, and our hotel, food, and clothing, and the deal is the same for us?" Pavlina queried skeptically. Again, Nate just nodded. "Why do you do all this?" Pavlina challenged. 

"Why not?" Nate shot back. Pavlina was silent. "Was any of this your fault?" Nate interrupted the silence.

"You are not like most men," Pavlina declared, sounding it more like an accusation than a compliment. She turned the TV volume up and returned to her reality TV show.

At six in the evening the girls retired to the bathroom to brush their teeth and don their reclaimed makeup. Briana wore her red skirt and white shirt, and Pavlina went in her basic black outfit. They walked less than a block to a nearby restaurant. The girls' skimpy outfits were out of place with the upscale linen table cloths and fine place settings. Patrons at neighboring tables were either intrigued or scandalized, but no one ignored Nate and his two lovely female companions. 

This evening they ate their meal with greater ease, now that Nate was speaking German, so Briana was not awkwardly translating. They ordered coffee and dessert, and then returned to the hotel without incident. 

They killed time in the hotel room watching some TV until it was bed time. Nate stripped naked, and the girls did the same. He retrieved his camera, lay on the bed, propped himself up on the pillows, and told the girls to suck him while he shot a POV video. Briana and Pavlina kneeled on either side of him while he handled the camera, which proved more difficult than he imagined. He kept shaking and moving it, rendering what he knew would be an annoying playback experience. He took lots of zoom shots of the girls' heads bobbing up and down over his 7 inch cock, and lots of full frame shots of either girl and of both girls together. When Briana went into action over his cock while she was on her knees, her large, firm, hanging tits would start oscillating in motion, and Nate zoomed in on that action also.

Nate did is best to stay focused on his camera duties as he exploded into Pavlina's mouth, and then he made the camera pay special attention to the girls swapping his cum back and forth many times under his direction before both they both swallowed down their share. 

Nate put the camera aside, and invited the girls to lie down beside him. He pulled the bed covers over their naked bodies, and they slowly drifted off to sleep.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 05



The Boat Ride

Nate was momentarily disoriented until he remembered he was sleeping in a hotel. The bedside clock read 6:07. Pavlina was in bed with him but Briana was gone. He got up carefully, not to awaken Pavlina, and found the bathroom door locked. It was one of those door knobs with a small hole in the middle to unlock it from the outside in emergencies. On the shallow wide desk with the TV, Nate found some hotel stationary and a hotel pen. He disassembled the pen, and Nate used the thin refill tube as a pin in the bathroom doorknob, pressed it in, and unlocked the door. Nate dropped the pen refill on the carpet floor, opened the door, and entered the bathroom unannounced.

Briana was sitting on the toilet, but the seat cover was down – she was using it as a chair. She had a bath towel wrapped over her shoulders for warmth. 

"I thought I locked the door," Briana said in English as Nate stepped in naked, and then closed the door behind him. 

"Maybe you only thought you locked it," Nate deflected without admitting anything. He stood naked looking at Briana in silence. "Do you like it when a guy pisses on your face?" Nate finally broke the pause.

"There is no way ..." Briana warned in a fierce tone.

"It's just that Pavlina mentioned it yesterday, and I was wondering what kind of women like that sort of thing."

"Sick, damaged women," Briana judged harshly. 

Nate nodded. "Personally, I don't see anything remotely sexually exciting about it, but then I don't get foot fetishes either."

"So why do you ask?" Briana asked. 

"Well, I have to pee, and you're sitting right there, and so it occurred to me ..." Briana jumped up from the toilet seat before he could finish his sentence. She started walking past him to leave, but he reached his hand and blocked her path across her tummy. "Couldn't sleep?" He looked into her eyes

"Too much going on," Briana tapped the side of her head gently with her index finger.

"It will all be over tomorrow," Nate assured her. He tilted her head up he kissed her. She kissed him back while Nate gently caressed her naked breasts. He felt a stirring in his balls, but Nate needed to get a run in. He decided he could have fun later. He broke off his kiss, and turned toward the toilet, lifted the seat and cover, and aimed for the side of the bowl before Briana could leave the room. 

She watched him urinate into the toilet, and told him, "I had a boyfriend once who couldn't pee if I watched him." Nate nodded. "When I teased him about it, he told me my tits was my only feature nicer than my Mom's." 

Nate turned his head back and looked at Briana without interrupting the stream of urine splashing quietly on the side of the porcelain bowl. "Point him out to me and I'll adjust his attitude," Nate promised. 

She smiled sadly. "I don't know why I just told you that," and then Briana opened the door and walked out with the bath towel still draped over her shoulders. She closed the door behind her. 

Nate dressed and went for a run. He turned north out of the hotel, and circled the smaller southern part of Lake Aussenalster, then he ran around the small botanical garden, and returned to the hotel an hour later. When he arrived at the hotel room just after 8 AM, both girls were asleep. He called down for room service, and ordered breakfast and coffee for the three of them. The phone call had awoken the girls, but they remained in bed. He told them to get up – room service was coming, and they should get dressed – then Nate stripped his clothes off and took a shower in the bathroom. 

He toweled off and came back into the bedroom, but the girls were still in the king sized bed. Pavlina was lying face down and Briana face up. Nate, still naked from the shower, pulled the blanket and sheet down, exposing the girls' naked bodies. Briana shivered in the open air and got up to get dressed. Pavlina remained face down on the bed, so Nate climbed onto the bed, and gently lay on top of her, and started humping her ass without risking any penetration. 

"Enough already," Pavlina mumbled in German. Nate continued humping her. "Okay, stop!" She cried. Nate rolled off her naked body, and he got dressed. Briana was already wearing her yellow sundress with pale blue flowers. Pavlina rolled over, lifted one knee up, and stretched her arms with a big yawn without trying to conceal her nakedness. Nate put on a fresh pair of swimming trunks instead of underpants and then pulled his jeans over top, then he buttoned up a short sleeve shirt. The forecast for today was hot.

Nate had just finished tying up his shoes when a knock came to the door. Pavlina was still naked on the bed. Briana looked nervously to her as Nate walked to the door, but Pavlina just remained on the bed. Nate ushered the short, stalky room service porter in. The porter pushed the wheeled trolley into the room, and took a hard double take at the blue-eyed, slim, blonde, Pavlina lying naked as he wheeled the cart past the rumpled bed. "Good morning!" Pavlina smiled warmly at him as he walked past. She had propped herself with her elbows behind her, offering a perfect view of her perky, small breasts with red nipples. She had one knee up, tilted outward at a 45 degree angle, and the other leg flat on the bed, providing a fully unobstructed view of her neatly trimmed womanhood as the porter pushed the trolley past the end of the bed. There was no modesty in her posture. He looked away and nodded with deep unease, and then the porter pulled the cart up beside the small round table next to the arm char. The short man unloaded the cart onto the table, and fumbled for his pen. Nate signed for the room service and added the usual tip to the bill. The porter thanked Nate, and he looked hard at the naked Pavlina as he pushed the empty trolley past the bed and left the room.

Nate's cell phone rang shortly after ten o'clock. It was Thomas Brandt calling. Nate and the girls were in the hotel room finishing their last sips of the room service coffee. By this time Pavlina had covered up with her black poncho for warmth, but was naked underneath. Brandt said he wanted to speak with Nate and Briana.

Nate pressed the speakerphone button on his cell to let the girls listen in. Thomas started with Pavlina. Everything was in order, and there will be no problem with getting her passport back tomorrow. Brandt explained they should meet at his office at 2 PM on Friday afternoon, and they will review all the final details. From there they will go to the police station. Brandt would purchase a plane ticket on her behalf to Prague, routed through Frankfurt. 

Thomas paused for a few seconds, long enough that Nate wondered if the call had disconnected. "As for Briana," Thomas finally broke the silence, "there is a complication." Thomas explained that Briana's name was in a database because she has unpaid fees to the London School of Economics. According to the small amount of information available in the database, the school unsuccessfully attempted recovery of the amount owing, and long ago referred the matter to the courts. Because both the UK and Germany are part of the European Union, this file was flagged during Briana's AeB processing. The Hamburg police have added a condition to Briana's AeB release requirements – the London School debt must be resolved before Briana can close her AeB file.

"I have requested a 30 day extension to her AeB term," Thomas explained as Briana's heart sank. "They will probably grant it. If they do, it does not mean you must stay in Germany for the whole 30 days – you can leave as soon as the matter is resolved." Thomas cautioned it is not simply a matter of paying the debt, although that is obviously part of the process. The UK courts must then acknowledge the matter has been resolved and update the EU database before the Hamburg police will recognize the debt repayment. "The process is surprisingly efficient," Thomas ventured. "It will probably take three to five business days after debt repayment to get your AeB status cleared," he said, "and then you can return to Canada."

Thomas gave his office address over the phone, and said he would see Pavlina there tomorrow. He urged Briana to immediately begin the process of repaying the London School debt. Briana spoke up and asked if she would get her passport back – she might need it to travel to London to speak with the school. Thomas said no – the Hamburg police would have no sympathies in that regard. When there were no more questions, Thomas wished both ladies good luck, and then he disconnected the call.

Briana was stricken. Nate asked her about the debt. It seems Briana was on some kind of scholarship, and the terms of the scholarship required her to complete her year, which for reasons Briana was not willing to explain, she did not. The incomplete year converted the scholarship to a debt that the school sought to recover. She admitted receiving several letters at her home address in Canada, the final one threatening legal action if Briana did not repay the debt. 

Briana had the good sense to avoid the UK in her travels, but it never occurred to her that the UK debt could catch up to her while travelling though continental Europe. Nate sensed a pattern emerging. Briana had an unpaid school debt, and her mother accused her of stealing money, which Briana lent to a friend for unknown reasons and never get it back. He resolved right then to never loan Briana any money.

"What are you going to do?" Pavlina asked. Briana just hung her head and shook it slowly in silence. 

"Can you help her?" Pavlina asked Nate. 

"I don't know," Nate answered, thinking the answer was probably no. "I don't have enough information." Nate paused in thought. He asked Briana how much the debt was. She said she received a scholarship of 5,000 pounds. The last letter she saw was demanding payment of something like 6,400 pounds, which included interest and fines. Nate did the quick math in his mind, and calculated it to be nearly 10,000 dollars. 

At the beginning of this adventure, Nate thought how many guys his age could get two young, hot girls to live with him for a week, and who would fuck and suck him on command? He had healthy savings and retirement funds, and he figured he could afford to live the fantasy most guys only dream about for a week. But extra costs were already mounting, and the fantasy was growing tattered around the edges. Add another $10,000, plus who knows what other surprises awaited, and the fantasy was turning bleak. Nate had his fun. It was time to move on.

Nate decided he was not going to let this development ruin their last full day. It was promising to be a hot day, and Nate wanted to enjoy the most of it. He opened his suitcase and retrieved two string bikinis he had purchased the day the girls went shopping. He handed the black bikini to Pavlina and the white one to Briana. He told the girls to put them on under their clothes. Briana, still concerned with her modesty, retreated to the bathroom while Pavlina stripped off her poncho in the hotel room and put on the black two piece swimsuit. It accented her blonde hair nicely. Nate had guessed at her size when he bought it, and decided it was just right. 

Briana returned from the bathroom. Nate told her to take off her sundress so he could see the bikini. He realized he probably guessed one cup size too small for her, but the bottom fit perfectly. He figured the smaller size was titillating a bonus, and he let Briana put her dress back on. Nate told them they were going to a beach, and they should prepare for the outing. The girls complained they could not go to the beach in high heels. 

While Nate fetched their old shoes and socks from his suitcase, Pavlina pulled her red skirt and white T-shirt over her black bikini. Nate retrieved a spare blanket from the hotel room closet, which he shoved into a spare pillowcase. When they were ready to leave, he packed up his laptops and camera, and carried them downstairs. He checked them in with the front desk for safe keeping, and received a receipt. 

They left the hotel together and found a pharmacy nearby where they purchased sunscreen. Nate knew of a small café/deli where he bought sandwiches, grapes, cheese, and bottled water and put the food into the pillowcase for a picnic. They took the subway one stop west to Landungsbrucken, close to Nate's apartment, and there they descended a long escalator and transferred to the northbound train to Saarlandstrasse. Within an hour of leaving the hotel room, they arrived at Stadparkese, a park with a small lake in the middle of the city where locals flock to sunbathe. It is not so much of a beach as it is a grass lawn with a small sandy patch on one side. Most of the lake shores are grass sloping down to the water. 

Nate guided the girls toward a smaller hill along the east side of the lake nestled between two groves of trees, and the girls instantly understood his motives when they realized all the women in this small area were topless. He found an unclaimed area on the hill sloping toward the water, and spread out the king sized blanket on the grass. He pulled off his pants, revealing his swim trunks underneath. The girls followed suit by stripping down to their bikinis. Nate then took off his shirt, and told the girls they also had to go topless. They mounted a weak argument, but when looking all around at the topless women, they capitulated quickly, and removed their bikini tops. He pulled out two bottles of sunscreen and handed one to the girls while Nate applied the other to his pale white skin. The girls took turns covering each other's backs, and Nate asked Briana to do his back. They finally settled on the oversized blanket, and relaxed in the early midday sun.

An hour later Pavlina sat up and said she needed to use the bathroom. She grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it over her head and stood up. Nate told her to walk along the lakeshore to the boat rental shack they passed to get to their current site. There were washrooms there, he explained. She put her shoes on and disappeared around the grove of trees toward the boat rentals. 

Briana, still topless, rolled onto her side, and faced Nate. She took the opportunity while she was alone with him to broach the subject of her latest crisis. "Nate do you think you can loan me the money for this London debt thing?" She spoke in English.

Nate liked Briana. He really did, especially 12 years earlier when she babysat his kids. Back then, she had a veil of untarnished naiveté about her. But now she was an adult with an unattractive, reckless streak. She seemed to be absorbed in self-pity, blaming the rest of the world for problems of her own making. Part of Nate wanted to help her, part of him wanted nothing to do with her, and another part wanted to teach Briana a long-overdue lesson about life and consequences. 

It was that last part that was foremost in his mind when Nate answered Briana's question. "Let's be honest, Briana," he started, also in English. "There is no chance I would ever see that money again, so don't insult me by pretending it's a loan." 

Briana opened her mouth to mount a protest, but closed it again without saying anything when she realized Nate was probably right. "Okay," she finally said. "What does that mean?" 

"Don't get me wrong, Briana," Nate pressed on. "I have enjoyed this little arrangement of ours, but I think it time to say enough is enough." 

"So you won't help me," Briana sulked. 

"I am not saying no, not exactly," Nate clarified. "I am saying our present arrangement should end tomorrow as planned. If you want me to help you to the tune of another ten thousand dollars, plus who knows what else, I would need a new arrangement." 

"Like what?" she asked, swallowing hard. 

"Well, first of all," Nate advised, "I need to go to the authorities next week. I can't delay that much longer. With you out of the country, it would have made it easier. There is a chance that the police will revoke your AeB status just to keep you in Germany as a witness."

"Can't you just leave me out of it?" Briana hoped.

"I already explained the Italian restaurant connection," Nate reminded her. "It is highly likely that the police have already talked to employees there. I expect by now the police have my name, and they know I was with two young women, a blonde and a brunette. So no," Nate concluded, "I can't leave you out of it."

"But couldn't you say it was someone else?" Briana knew she was reaching.

"For all we know," Nate speculated, "the police dusted the table and chairs we sat at in the restaurant for fingerprints, and already know you were there." A chill ran down Briana's spine. "I think it is unlikely, but my point is, you never lie to the police. Once they catch you in a lie, they move you to the top of their shit list. In the best case, they fuck your life up until they decide you're not their guy."

"So what are you saying?" Briana asked acridly. "I should just roll over and take it up the ass."

"Is that another offer?" Nate asked flatly, but inwardly he was smiling at her verbal miscue. 

"Oh my ...," Briana buried her reddened face in her hands. "I didn't mean it that way," she whined. "You know what I mean. Like ... you're just going to tell them everything?"

"No," Nate offered thoughtfully. "But what I do tell them will be the truth, except for one small part. And you should do the same." Nate explained that he would tell the police the three of them went to the restaurant, and then left, walked home taking the route they did, and arrived home without incident. They never saw anyone suspicious, and never heard anything unusual. He was reasonably confident he wiped the stairwell clean of any prints, and he doubted they would collect DNA evidence. Briana replied that sounded like the best approach, and agreed she would say the same. 

"The alternative," Nate explained, "is to tell everything, and then your AeB status will be revoked," Nate fell silent for a long time. "Let me ask you something," Nate launched the conversation in a new direction. "Have you ever had unprotected sex with a guy? Have you ever had an STI?" 

"No," Briana lied. There was that one summer when she had just turned 18. She was camping with her mother in a rented camper trailer. It was the summer after her night with Nate when his wife wasn't there. There was a big marshmallow cookout for the whole campground. Briana told her mom she was going to the cookout while her mother stayed behind to enjoy some peace and quiet alone. But Briana soon left the campfire with a boy she met only the day before. He was tall, lanky, handsome in a quirky way, and he had a crooked smile she found irresistible. They made sweet, forbidden love under the dazzling stars next to a willow tree by a gentle stream. At least, Briana likes to remember it that way, but in truth, it was awful. He was rough, and far too anxious. He dispensed with any foreplay and shoved his hands down her jeans.

He pushed her back and pulled her jeans and panties down. With her running shoes still on, her pants crumpled around her ankles, immobilizing he legs. He pulled his own jeans down, but not off, and mounted her missionary style with the finesse of a bull rhino. His weight crushed her back into a knotted root in the grass. Within seconds the boy's hips gyrated wildly, like a crystal meth addict convulsing in the final throws of a lethal overdose. Barely after he began, an undignified staccato of hyena grunts heralded the boy's premature ejaculation into her virgin womanhood. It could not have taken longer than ten seconds. The boy stood up, pulled his jeans back on, and walked away without a word, leaving her in the grass with her pants around her ankles and her back aching from the knotted roots. After she dressed, Briana walked alone in the dark for an hour, crying the whole time, feeling cheated out of a perfect first time. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 05



They did not use protection. He said it was his first time, so Briana was not worried about STIs, although she was a nervous wreck for three weeks until the onset of her next period announced she was not pregnant. Briana never saw that boy again. 

"Are you on any birth control?" Nate asked in the present. Briana told him she had an IUD implanted a year earlier. Nate knew he was STI free because he was required to take a blood test for a recent life insurance application, and he had a vasectomy 10 years earlier. 

"So as part of any new deal," Nate stipulated, "we don't use condoms." 

Briana didn't react to that, except to ask "and what else?" 

"No restrictions," Nate added. "Anything I want, anywhere, any time." Nate paused for a moment. "In short," he summarized, "you lose the right to say 'no'." 

"So I become ... what ... your slave? Your property?"

"Call it what you want," Nate offered casually. "The first time you refuse to do something, the deal is over. No money, no lawyer, no plane ticket, no apartment, no food, and no second chances. You can spend the rest of your days in a German prison." 

Briana considered the implications a long time. "There have to be some reasonable restrictions," she finally countered. "Like you can't hurt me, or sell me to a biker gang." 

"I might spank you again," Nate pointed out, "which you might argue is hurting you." Nate thought a moment. "This is the deal. Take it or leave it. I think I have demonstrated I am a reliable guy with good judgement. If you disagree, just walk away tomorrow. But if you stay after Pavlina leaves, you are not allowed to say 'no' to anything, or refuse to do anything. Not even once. No warnings, no second chances. I mean it, Briana," he cautioned. "Don't think some teary eyed sob story will win me over. You refuse me or say 'no' just once, and it's over."

"I need to think about that," Briana mused. 

"Well you have all day," Nate observed.

Briana rolled over onto her tummy in silence to tan her bare back. A minute later, still on her tummy she rolled her face toward Nate and asked "for how long?"

Nate thought about that. "For as long as it takes for you to convince the police to let you go." Nate figured that would be a week minimum.

Briana lifted her head and looked around to see if anyone might be eavesdropping. She spoke quietly. "Would you ... uh ... you know ... uh ... up my ... uh ... up my butt?"

"No restrictions," Nate answered, "and you can't say no." Briana imagined the pain of Nate fucking her up her ass, and then forcing her to suck his brown stained, cum smeared cock. She shivered with disgust and nearly wretched right there in the park.

They fell silent, and Nate decided to roll over and tan his back as well. "You say no restrictions," Briana broke the silence, "but the deal about the pictures and video has to be the same – you can't show any pictures or any videos you take of me to anyone, ever."

"Agreed," Nate nodded, still lying on his tummy, and they went silent again. A minute later Pavlina returned from the bathroom. She kicked her shoes off and pulled her top over her head, and lay topless on her back on the other side of Nate. She lay close to Nate, nearly touching him – she on her back, and he on his front. She drew her knees up but kept them closed with the soles of her feet flat on the ground. Pavlina looked relaxed. 

"I'm getting hungry," Pavlina broke the silence after half an hour of sunbathing. 

"Me too," Briana agreed.

Nate took some sandwiches from his makeshift picnic bag and handed them out. They formed a head-to-toe triangle on the blanket, lying on their sides, with the food and drink in the center. They ate their sandwiches and munched on grapes, chatting idly about movies they'd seen.

After lunch they dressed, packed up their lunch and blanket into the pillowcase, and walked to the boat rentals, where Nate hired a classic rowboat. He sat in the middle bench seat, facing backward, and the two girls sat on the back bench seat, facing forward. He told Pavlina to take off her T-shirt, and he told Briana to take off her dress. They left their bikinis on, which made Briana self-conscious with her bikini top slightly too small. While Nate rowed the boat out toward the middle of the lake, the girls applied a new coat of sunscreen on themselves and each other's backs. 

Other people rented two-person paddle boats, canoes, and single person kayaks. The lake water was warm on this hot July afternoon, and many swimmers were wading near the beach region. The girls basked lazily in the sun as Nate rowed the boat from the lake center to the southern end of the small lake. He navigated through a channel between a small island and the lakeshore, and in the middle of the channel, at the southernmost point of the lake, Nate turned south into a narrow channel and quietly slipped the rowboat underneath a low bridge that carried Sudring Road above. When the boat emerged on the far side of the bridge, they were traversing one of Hamburg's thousands of canals. From here, Nate could have rowed all the way back to the hotel, if he had a map and about five hours. 

Nate turned east in the wider canal. Both sides of the canal were adorned by dense tree cover, giving the illusion Nate and the girls were sailing down a deep forest river. The constant clamour of the nearby street traffic reminded them of their urban setting. Nate piloted the boat down the canal, frequently looking behind him, that is, ahead of the boat, to steer clear of obstacles and other boaters. 

Just then Nate's cell phone rang. He stopped rowing pulled the device out of his pocket – it was Thomas Brandt. Nate answered, and Brandt told him that Briana's AeB extension had been granted to 30 days starting today. There was no other news. Nate thanked him for the call, disconnected, and updated Briana as he pocketed the phone again. 

Nate resumed his rowing. A hundred meters later the canal made a sharp left bend to the north, and after making the turn, they passed beneath a quaint café with patrons sitting on an overhead wooden deck. A hundred more meters ahead the canal turned right and passed under another street bridge, but Nate ignored the turn and continued north for another 50 meters as the canal gently veered left before coming to a dead end. The canal terminated at a dense grove of trees, out of sight of the distant café behind them. The girls expected Nate to turn around, but instead he ferried the boat from one side of the canal to the other, constantly looking at the trees, until Nate found what he was looking for. Invisible from the main canal, a narrow channel cut through the trees at an oblique angle. Nate steered the boat into the hidden channel, which was just barely wide enough for the small rowboat. The trees nearly hit the sides of the boat, and were too close to let Nate row, so he removed the oars from their gunwale locks, and used one oar as a push rod against the surrounding trees. 

Nate pushed aside the odd low branch, careful not to let it snap back in the girls faces, and soon the rowboat completely disappeared from view. The unbroken canopy overhead created a cave, and the arboreal cover shielded the bright afternoon sunlight, leaving an eerie darkened atmosphere. Looking behind them, the girls could not spot the hidden opening they just came through. 

The constant din of the nearby road traffic faded to a distant hum, moderated by their secret cocoon. Nate pushed the boat forward until he grounded it onto a shallow patch of moss. He gathered the hotel pillow case and stepped into the shallow water and hauled the rowboat onto the tiny shore. Nate took the blanket out and spread it over a sandy shore no larger than ten by ten feet. 

Nate helped the girls out of the boat, and they settled together onto the blanket. They ate grapes and cheese and chatted in hushed voices. Briana asked how Nate knew about this spot, and he said a friend at work told him about it, and how to find it. She looked all around, and said it would be impossible to find someone if you didn't know about it. Exactly, Nate affirmed, and he reached across and pulled on her bikini string, untying the knot on her back. She started to protest, but then thought about the days and weeks to come, and thought better of it. He pulled her top off, and slid his hands up her front, feeling her firm, large tits. 

"Take your clothes off and suck me," Nate told Pavlina as continued playing with Briana's beautiful tits. Pavlina silently unfastened her red skirt, and pushed it down, together with her bikini bottom. Then she untied her top, and tossed it aside. Nate leaned forward and suckled on Briana's left nipple while he continued fondling her right tit. Briana set her arms on the ground behind her and leaned backward on them with her knees up and her feet resting flat on the blanket. 

Nate continued sucking and feeling Briana's tits while he reached one hand to her left hip. He pulled the ends of the bikini strings, and yanked on them until the knot came loose. He repeated the same trick on her right hip, and with Briana's bikini bottom untethered, Nate reached between her thighs and pulled the triangle of fabric off her crotch, leaving her naked. Nate aimed his right hand for Briana's exposed womanhood while he continued sucking on her left nipple. 

Briana obediently spread her knees open for Nate, and he smoothly glided the tip of his middle finger up and down her slit. Meanwhile, the naked Pavlina sat on her knees and started unzipping Nate's pants. Nate landmarked his middle finger on Briana's love hole, and pushed in. He started pumping in and out while he began biting gently on Briana's left nipple. 

Pavlina was running into trouble. She had Nate's pants open, but his swimming trunks had no front opening. Nate pulled away from Briana, and put the middle finger that had been fucking her pussy to Pavlina's lips, who took it into her mouth and sucked it clean. Nate pushed his pants and swimsuit down his legs and pushed off his shoes. He stepped out of his pants, and kneeled down on his knees with his love machine at full attention. 

Nate told Briana to lie on her back with her knees open, and then he pushed her hands over her head. Just then Pavlina went to her hands and knees, and reached her head underneath Nate's tummy and turned her mouth upward to meet his bulging cock. As Pavlina started to bob her twisted head up and down over Nate's fuck rod, Nate placed two fingers against Briana's split open pussy and gently inserted them slowly. Then Nate reached his left hand over Pavlina's back, slid his middle finger down her ass crack, past her asshole, and found her shaven pussy, and began finger fucking her at the same time. 

Pavlina brought one hand to Nate's shaft to assist her oral duties, leaving her other hand planted on the blanket for balance. Nate quickly felt his balls respond with building pressure. He pulled his fingers out of both girls pussies, and reached for his pants on the blanket. Nate pulled out a condom from a pocket, and told Pavlina to put it on his cock. She opened the package, and sheathed his seven inch manhood. Nate told Briana and Pavlina to trade positions, so Briana crawled up to her knees, and Pavlina lay down on her back. Nate spread Pavlina's bent knees completely open so her thighs lay flat against blanket, opening her pussy lips wide apart. Then Nate told Briana to get on all fours over top Pavlina in 69 position, and spread her own knees as wide as she could so that her pussy rested squarely on Pavlina's face. Nate told Pavlina to eat Briana's pussy, and not stop until Briana came to orgasm. 

Nate kneeled between Pavlina's wide open legs, and targeted his sheathed love rocket for Pavlina's gaping pussy hole. He pushed in easily, and started fucking Pavlina's tight pussy. 

Briana, who was on all fours with her pussy resting on Pavlina's upturned face, closed her eyes as Pavlina set her tongue to work on Briana's clitoris wile Nate fucked Pavlina's snug pussy at the other end. Pavlina's heart was not into her oral duties. She just went through the motions to satisfy Nate's girl-on-girl fantasy without really trying to please Briana.

After a few minutes of fucking Pavlina, Nate pulled out of her pussy, and pressed his cunt glazed penis to Briana's mouth. She opened wide, and took Nate's slathered cock in, and sucked Pavlina's lubricating juices off his sheathed cock. Nate let Briana suck him for a minute or two, while he reached down and finger fucked Pavlina's lonely pussy.

Nate swapped his cock and finger positions, fucking Pavlina's pussy and making Briana suck more of Pavlina's love juice off his fingers. He pulled his fingers out of Briana's mouth and started fucked Pavlina hard. Three minutes later Nate felt his balls closing in on detonation. He pulled out again, and let Briana suck his vagina coated sheathed cock one more time. When the condom sparkled clean, Nate pulled off the condom, and he touched his bare, firm cock to Briana's lips, and told her to bring him home. Meanwhile Pavlina was working on Briana's clit with lackluster enthusiasm. 

Briana sucked hard on Nate's love piston, and within a minute her oral ministrations paid off. Nate unloaded his first wave of hot seed into her mouth. Nate stifled a grunt, remembering he was still in the open woods. He told Briana not to swallow – to hold his semen in her mouth. Briana did her best, but several trails squirted out of her lips and dribbled down her chin while Nate shot four more streams of jism into her mouth. 

After Nate unloaded his last salvo into Briana's full mouth, he told her to turn around, and ordered both girls to engage in an open mouth French kiss, and play with his hot spew with their tongues. He watched Briana carefully crawl over Pavlina in a half circle, and then she lowered her face to Pavlina's waiting lips. Nate watched his jism drip from Briana's lips in several, long sticky streams into Pavlina's waiting mouth. They locked lips and probed each other's tonsils while Nate returned southward, and once again finger fucked both girls, two fingers in each.

Nate told the girls to continue kissing while he finger fucked them for a solid minute. Finally Nate pulled out of both girls' cock pockets, and he told them to swallow his jism before sucking on his fingers, crossing his hands so each girl sucked the other girl's juices. 

Briana still had traces of cum streaming down her chin. Nate told Pavlina to lick those clean, which she did, tasting a mixture of sunscreen and jism. Nate allowed the girls to dress as he pulled his own bathing suit and pants on. He shoved the spent condom and wrapper into the plastic bag that used to hold the eaten grapes, and wrapped it up tight before slipping it into the pillowcase for later disposal. Within five minutes, they had packed up their picnic site without leaving a footprint, launched the boat, and emerged from their hidden boreal cave into the open canal again. Nate retraced their route back to the lake, and returned the boat to the rental shack. Nate and the girls left the park on foot, and crossed the street to the subway station.  

It was rush hour when they stepped onto the 5:13 train. Nate and the girls found standing room only. Nate spied a vacant corner at the back of the car, so he threaded his way through the standing crowd, with the girls following. He motioned the girls to stand in the corner, and Nate stood facing the crowd, with his backs to girls. He told Briana and Pavlina to each put a hand on his shoulder, and squeeze if they needed help. At least half the passengers exited the train at the Sternchanze stop, where transfers to three other subway lines provided escape to directions east and west. Nate and the girls sat together in vacated bench seat with Nate in the middle. An unkempt, unshaven man in his thirties got on at the same stop and sat on the bench seat across from them. He wore an old T-Shirt and badly faded jeans. Nate and the girls occasionally caught unpleasant whiffs from the man from across the train car. Most unnerving to the girls, the man never stopped staring at them with intense, beady eyes. They crossed there bare legs, and tried to ignore him. Nate decided looking right at the man might provoke a confrontation, which normally Nate would welcome, except the ensuing aftermath might risk the girls' AeB status, so he looked to one side or the other of the man, never letting the man escape his immediate peripheral vision.

Nate, Briana, and Pavlina exited the subway train three stops later at the Landungsbrucken station. The creepy man stayed on the train, but didn't try to disguise his overt staring at Briana and Pavlina through the train window as they walked through the crowded platform to climb the stairs. On the perpendicular train platform above, they transferred to the eastbound subway line, and boarded another crowded train, and got off at the next stop.

They walked the short block in the warm evening air and arrived at the air conditioned hotel just before six. The girls took turns showering off their sunscreen and dried jism before Nate helped himself to the shower. Pavlina and Briana said they wanted a quiet evening, so Nate called down for room service dinner while Briana ordered the movie 'Hugo' with German subtitles on the hotel pay-TV. After the movie, they talked about vacation places they had been to over the bottle of wine that came with dinner. Just before 10 o'clock, the girls got undressed, and tucked themselves into bed. Nate spent a couple of hours on his work laptop while the girls slept, catching up on the day's updates. He stripped off his clothes, and slipped into bed between the naked girls, and quickly fell asleep beside them around midnight.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 06



The Streets of Berlin

Late Friday morning Pavlina went through her short mental list again. Clothing, toothbrush, AeB document, money. Earlier on Friday morning, Nate had bought both girls small duffle bags to put their sparse belongings in. Briana and Pavlina packed their things into their new duffle bags, and they retrieved the cash and AeB papers from the hotel room safe. Pavlina said she didn't want the black high heeled shoes Nate bought her, and she offered the pair to Briana, who tried them on, and said they didn't fit. Nate packed them in his suitcase. 

Nate and the girls left the room together. At the lobby, Nate went to the front desk to collect his valuables and check out, while the girls went to the hotel restaurant for lunch. Nate put his camera in his suitcase, and checked the valise with the bellhop to pick up later, but Nate carried his laptop case with him. He found Pavlina and Briana at the restaurant. Each girl had their own duffle bag under the table. 

"So," Pavlina asked in German for the third time, "I do not buy my own airplane ticket?' She was wearing her light blue tie-off shirt and black tube skirt. Briana was wearing her yellow dress again.

"Right," Nate answered in German. "Herr Brandt already did that for you. He has the ticket in his office now. You fly to Prague at 20 hours tonight," Nate recited what Brandt had already told them on the phone earlier this morning.

Pavlina ordered a goulash dish. Nate ordered veal strips in a tomato sauce, and Briana ordered an angel hair pasta. They chatted idly throughout lunch. 

At one fifteen they walked to the Rodingsmarkt subway station, near the Starbucks where they first got their hotel room keys from Taggart's tall, blonde assistant. It was two blocks further than the Stadthausbrucke stop, next to the hotel, but Rodingsmarkt was on a more direct subway line. It was another warm July afternoon. They took the subway eastbound to the Uhlandstrasse station, and then walked two blocks to Thomas Brandt's office. They arrived just before two o'clock.

His office was nestled on the second floor of an old stone building. Several lawyers shared a common waiting room with a single receptionist. Nate announced himself to the receptionist, who checked a log of expected visitors, and then instructed them to enter office number B3. 

The office was tiny. Thomas Brandt introduced himself as he firmly shook hands with Nate and both girls. He was tall, thin – almost gaunt, with receding straight grey hair and round wire-rim glasses. He wore a perfectly clean and pressed dark grey business suit and tie that looked like it was 30 years old. Nate guessed Brandt was in his early sixties. 

The tiny office had room for only two small padded steel chairs, so Nate stood behind the chairs while Briana and Pavlina each took a seat. Thomas, seated in a simple office chair on the other side of the small desk, was unapologetic for the meagre accommodations. Nate guessed many of his clients could not afford the luxuries of leather furniture in a brightly lit corner office. Everything about the office screamed neatness and efficiency. 

Thomas had prepared the final papers for Pavlina to sign. He apologized that they were in German – they were not allowed to be in any other language. Pavlina reviewed the first document, which seemed surprisingly clear and plain. It was a commitment and declaration to engage Thomas Brandt as her legal representative in the disposition of her Ausländer equitiable Behandlung status in the city state of Hamburg, Germany. The fee for an uncomplicated disposition was a flat rate of 1,200 euros, plus expenses. 

She signed the contract in duplicate copies. Brandt put one signed copy in a drawer for later filing, and he folded the other copy into an envelope, which he handed to Pavlina. He then pulled out a file folder, and took the next fifteen minutes to walk Pavlina through the four documents that he would file with the Hamburg police on her behalf. She signed in no fewer than 17 places. Pavlina was beginning to understand the value of hiring someone like Brandt. Instead of just showing up with a wad of cash and hoping for the best, as most people do, Pavlina would be represented by experienced counsel who would present a brick of legal documents compelling the police to release Pavlina's passport and let her go on her way. 

With Pavlina's documents out of the way, Brandt then turned his attention to Briana. He presented her with the same engagement contract, except hers was a minimum fee of 2,000 euros for the disposition of an AeB with conditions attached. The fee was unconditional, it could go higher, and would be collected even if the AeB case was not successfully resolved.

Briana signed the contract in two copies, and again Brandt filed one and gave the other to her in an envelope. There were no other papers for Briana to sign, as Thomas would not draft the disposition documents until he knew the status of the London loan. He asked how the loan repayment was going, and Briana admitted she had not done anything yet. As it was Friday afternoon, everyone realized little progress could be made before Monday morning. 

Next, Brandt had a document for Nate to sign, agreeing he would pay for Briana's and Pavlina's fees and expenses. Nate signed it in duplicate, and Brandt filed on for his own records, and handed the other signed copy to Nate. He filed it in his laptop case. 

Thomas returned to Pavlina. "Do you have the money for the AeB payment?" Pavlina said she did, and fished out the wad of 100 euro bills from a zipped pocket in her duffle bag. Thomas asked her to count it out in front of him, which she did, and came to exactly 5,000 euros. Thomas told her to keep it. He explained he was not permitted to handle the money – she had to hand it to the police herself. 

With all the paperwork complete, Thomas packed Pavlina's case files in his lawyer's attaché case, and Pavlina stuffed the money back into her duffle bag and zipped close the pocket. They all stood in his tiny office. Thomas ushered Pavlina, Briana, and Nate out the door, and he locked it behind him before shepherding them through the common reception area, and down the stairs to the street level. Briana and Pavlina each carried their duffle bags, Nate carried his laptop satchel, and Thomas carried his leather bound attorney case. They followed Thomas across the street to an indoor parking lot street entrance. "Here we say goodbye," Thomas said to Nate and Briana. "I will take Fraulein Kozak to the police station," Brandt explained, "and then see that she gets on the train to the airport."

Nate pulled out his wallet, and handed Pavlina 200 euros. "You're going to need some spending money," he offered. 

Pavlina took his cash. "You're still an asshole," she said in German, and then kissed him gently on the cheek. Nate took that to mean thank you. 

Pavlina looked at Briana. The dropped their duffle bags on the sidewalk and they hugged each other in a long embrace. They had been through more than either of them ever imagined possible, and while they weren't looking, they had developed a kindred bond. They vowed to keep in touch through Facebook. The girls finally pulled apart and picked up their respective duffle bags. Pavlina double checked she had the correct one with the cash in it, while Briana verified her AeB declaration document was still in her duffle bag. Thomas unlocked the steel and glass door to the parking lot with his electronic key card, and led Pavlina into the long entryway. 

Nate and Briana watched the door close, and then stood alone in the street. "So," Nate said in English, with his computer bag strapped over his shoulder, "are you with me or on your own?"

"When do I have to decide?" Briana asked weakly. 

"You have five seconds," Nate declared solemnly. Nate had given her over 24 hours to think it over. He was completely fine with either outcome. Briana stood paralyzed, unable to move or speak. She knew this moment was coming, but she had pushed it aside each time she thought about Nate's new conditions. Nate grew tired of waiting. "Okay," he said, turning away. "Good luck," and Nate walked down the sidewalk alone.

Briana watched his back as Nate walked away, and with each step he took, the walls of Briana's world collapsed around her. She was horrified of being imprisoned indefinitely as she watched her only means of paying the AeB and London fines escape down the sidewalk. And she was equally terrified she would perish in the streets at the hands of another knife welding rapist. But as she watched Nate walk away, Briana realized more than anything else, she was afraid of being alone.

Fierce panic swelled up Briana's throat. "Wait!" she croaked so weakly she wasn't sure he heard her. She ran after Nate in her high heels. "Nate!" she called out louder this time. "Stop!" Nate stopped and turned to face her.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Nate, please don't do this to me," she begged. Nate huffed a smirk, and turned away again and started walking. 

"Okay!" she screamed at this back. People all around the street stopped to survey the commotion. Nate stopped and turned toward her. "I'll do it," she yelled. Nate quickly closed the distance to Briana, and told her not to shout. "I will do it," Briana said again, quieter this time. Her flowing tears had stopped as she summoned a modicum of self-control. 

"You say 'no' just one time," Nate cautioned her, "or refuse to do just one thing, and we are done. And even if you do everything right, you get no money until the end." She looked up at him with growing resolve, but she didn't respond. "Do you agree?" Briana nodded her head silently. "Repeat it all back to me so I know you understand," Nate ordered.

Briana still looked up into Nate's eyes. "I will do everything you say," she surrendered. "I will not say no. I will not get any money until the end."

"Good," Nate nodded. "Now take your underpants off and put them in your duffle bag."

"Here!?" Briana stammered. "Now?" She looked around the street. Most people had returned to their own lives, but one or two people were still watching Briana and Nate.

"Right here," Nate ordered quietly, "right now, or start walking." He waited. 

Briana closed her eyes and blew out a long breath with puffed cheeks. She swallowed hard, then reached under both sides of her yellow sundress, hooked her fingers around the elastic waist, and slipped her thong panties down her legs to her ankles. She stepped out of them, bent over, and picked up her underwear and put the discarded garment in her duffle bag. She wanted to look around to see if anyone was watching, but Briana thought that knowing might be worse, so she just stared at the ground and waited. 

Nate reached his hand out. "Take my hand like a good girlfriend does," he said. She reached for his hand, they walked together. They took the subway back to the Baumwall station. Nate and Briana walked hand-in-hand down the stairs from the elevated train platform to the street level, and they walked like a real couple to his apartment. 

"It looks cleaner than I remember it," Briana observed as she passed into the living room. Nate explained he had a cleaning lady who had come by twice already. 

There were no messages left by his cleaning lady to suggest the police had been by to ask questions. He went into his office, and picked up the phone receiver, and checked the messages on his landline. Normally he uses the speakerphone to check messages, but he did not want Briana to overhear. There it was - Detective Visel, a woman's voice, of the Hamburg police, was investigating an incident near Nate's home, and could he return her call. The woman left her phone number. Nate checked the time stamp on the message - it was Thursday at 5:07 pm. It was probably the investigator's last call of the day before she went home. 

Nate knew that, in the police's mind, he was a long shot. Chances were high the timing of his late meal was a mere coincidence, but the investigator had to rule it out as a legitimate lead. It was likely, therefore, that Detective Visel would not follow up with a second call until next week while she pursued more promising vectors.

Nate put the handset down and returned to the living room. Briana was standing in the living room, aiming the remote control at the TV. She surfed through the available broadcasts. "Do you want to watch TV?" She asked flatly, not having found anything interesting to watch.

"No," Nate replied, gently taking the remote control out of her hand. With his right hand he reached under her yellow dress and lightly took hold of her pubic hair, and tugged gently. "Go upstairs and shave your pussy completely bare."

"What?!" Briana snapped with widened eyes. 

"You heard me," Nate warned her. "In thirty minutes you will present yourself for inspection," Nate commanded. "A very close inspection, I might expect," he added. "If there is even one tiny stubble of a pubic hair left, you will be punished." Nate waited, but Briana didn't move. "Up you go," he gestured to the stairs. 

Briana had always criticized girls who modify their body to please their boyfriends. She had privately vowed long ago to never shave herself just to make a man feel better, but now she was trapped. Briana either did something she morally objected to, or she suffered catastrophic consequences. 

Briana knew she was halfway down a slippery slope. If she acquiesced to this demand, she knew the next one would be worse, and the one after that worse still. But the cost of protest was too high. Briana wondered what she did to deserve this. She opened her mouth in protest, but closed it without a word. 

Like a punished child, Briana's head sunk into her shoulders. She turned silently and climbed the stairs slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. Nate followed her upstairs, and into the bathroom. He pulled out a cordless electric razor from a vanity cabinet, and he showed her the beard trimming attachment. He explained she should use the beard trimmer first to shear all her pubic hairs down to a stubble, and then go over it all again with a razor. He retrieved a new disposable twin blade razor, and some shaving gel, and handed them to her. Nate declared her pussy should be as smooth and hair-free as her breasts. He reminded Briana she had half an hour, and then she must present herself for inspection. As he left the bathroom, Nate admonished Briana to clean up any mess she made. As an afterthought, Nate asked Briana if she had any questions.

"It's just that ..." Briana faltered. "I am not saying no, and I am not refusing, but I have never done this before," she explained. "I am just worried that I might ... you know ... make a mistake."

Nate searched around the vanity until he retrieved a round mirror with a handle left over from a former girlfriend. "Use this," he said, handing her Briana the mirror. "Use the electric shaver on dry skin," he offered, "but have a hot bath before you use the razor. And stroke the razor down the hair – not up the hairs or across the grain," he added. "And pull the skin gently. Don't stretch it too tight." Briana looked at him quizzically. "My last girlfriend shaved her pussy all the time," he answered her unspoken question. Nate turned and left Briana alone in the bathroom. 

Briana stared at the shaving equipment for a while. Finally, she pulled her dress over her head, and pressed off her shoes. She stood naked in the dry bathtub, and raised her right foot and placed it on the side of the tub. Briana turned on the cordless shaver, and lowered the buzzing beard trimmer attachment between her legs. The front part was easy, and Briana watched mounds of pubic hair fall gently into the bathtub as the razor carved her thick bush down to a stubble. 

The electric shaver proved easier than she anticipated until Briana reached the tender skin beside her vagina. After several uncomfortable attempts, Briana lay down in the cold, empty tub, and spread her legs apart, resting her feet on the sides of the tub. She pulled the skin tight to the right of her slit, and ran the beard trimmer over her delicate skin. She reached for the mirror, and inspected the results. There was a small patch between her pussy and her anus that still had longer hair, so she trimmed that with the shaver. Another inspection satisfied Briana the first pass was done.

Briana stood up and started the shower, and rinsed the shaved pubic hair down the drain, except it didn't wash down the drain. It gathered in a loose ball and circled around the drain. She picked up the bulk of it and threw it in the garbage. Briana plugged the drain, and filled the tub a quarter full with warm bathwater. She took the shaving gel and the disposable razor, and lay down in the hot water. Briana spread the gel over the front of her pubic area, and shaved it quite easily. Again, the hard part was beside her vagina. With her legs spread again, she applied the gel, and then with one hand she stretched the skin taught, and carefully pulled the razor with her other hand. Several checks with the mirror confirmed the stubble was completely gone without any injuries. She did the same to the left side of her pussy, and finally the patch between her pussy and asshole. Briana winced as she felt a sharp twinge, and she checked with the mirror – she was bleeding. Not badly, but enough to rattle her. She stepped out of the tub, dripping on the floor, and found a Kleenex and applied it to the wound, and stopped the bleeding in a few minutes. A more thorough review with the mirror revealed several rough patches where stubble still remained. Mindful of her final inspection, Briana re-applied gel to each patch, and went over it again with the razor. 

Briana showered herself off. There was still some original shorn pubic hair stuck in the drain, and she dug it out with her finger and tossed it in the garbage. She used the shower to rinse the bathtub clean, and with that, Briana was finished. In all, she had to admit the effort was not as difficult as she expected. 

Just as Briana was toweling herself dry, the door swung open, startling Briana. Nate entered. "Time for inspection," he announced, and waited at the open door. Briana finished toweling off, then used the towel to dry the tile floor, and then walked naked to the bedroom, following Nate.

"Stand with your feet wide apart," Nate ordered, and Briana set her feet to shoulder width. "No, wider," Nate corrected, and Briana opened her legs even more until they felt uncomfortably wide. "Now, put your hands behind your head," he ordered. She folded her fingers together behind her head. "Pull you elbows back, chest out, tummy in," Nate barked, and Briana complied the best she could. The effect jutted her breasts outward, amplifying their already decent size. 

"This is your inspection position," Nate explained. "When I tell you to stand for inspection, this is how you stand. Do you understand?" Briana nodded. "Say you understand."

"I understand," Briana declared, just above a whisper. 

"When I tell you to go into your inspection position," Nate further explained, "you stay in your inspection position until I release you. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Briana repeated sullenly. Nate opened his right hand palm up, and brought it to the bottom of her left breast. Then he lifted her breast up, and then released it, letting it fall back into place with a series of harmonic jiggles. Then he did the same to her right breast, as if he was comparing them for freshness in a grocery store. Nate slapped her left breast lightly with his open palm, and Briana squeaked a little cry. It wasn't at all painful, but the violent imagery surprised Briana. Instinctively, without thinking, Briana lowered her arms in front of her body, with her hands clasped in front of her throat and her elbows squeezed together to shield her naked breasts. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 06



"No," Nate corrected. "Keep your hands behind your head." 

"Nate, please don't," Briana supplicated, still with her arms covering her breasts.

"That sounds like a refusal to me," Nate pronounced with steely eyes. Briana's eyes turned from pleading to hurt as she lifted her arms off her chest and locked her fingers behind her head again. Nate slapped her right breast this time. Instinctively Briana pulled her hands apart to shield her tits again, but this time she was thinking about it, and she stopped herself, and returned her hands behind her head. Nate slapped the left, then the right, left, right, and back and forth, never hitting them hard enough to actually hurt. Briana shut her eyes and braced for the enduring assault on her dignity. 

Nate stopped slapping her, and then he cupped her left breast in his right hand. "Whose tits are these," Nate asked, gently squeezing her breast between his fingers. 

"What?!" Briana opened her eyes with confused shock.

"It's not a trick question," Nate qualified. "Whose tits are these?" he repeated.

Still with her hands behind her back, Briana looked at him with deep suspicion. "They're my tits," she finally answered.

"Wrong," Nate slapped her left tit. "These are my tits to do whatever I want with for my recreation and pleasure." He slapped her right tit again. "So tell me, whose tits are these?"

Briana closed her eyes again. "Yours," she whispered.

"No," Nate slapped her left tit, and Briana sprung her eyes open wide again. "They're not just mine," he corrected, "they are mine to do whatever I want for my recreation and pleasure." "So tell me properly this time," he asked again. "Whose tits are these?"

Briana's eyes welled with tears. "These are your tits to do whatever you want for your recreation and pleasure," she said in a soft, defeated tone.

"Good," Nate rewarded as he gently caressed her left breast. Briana was still standing with her hands clasped behind her head and her feet wide apart. Nate slipped his hand off her breast, down her tummy, and felt the bare skin above her vagina where her thick bush used to rest. The skin was smooth and supple as Nate ran his fingertips over the freshly shaven flesh. His hand slid southward, and his middle finger landed over her pussy. He wiggled it until it squirmed into her fuck hole.

"Now tell me," Nate asked, "whose pussy is this," as he continued wiggling his finger inside her.

A lone tear streaked down Briana's face. "This is your pussy to do whatever you want for your recreation and pleasure." She struggled to avoid crying as she said it. 

"Very good," Nate allowed, pulling his finger out of her pussy. He shifted around Briana so he stood partially behind her, to her left, and now Nate slipped the same finger down her ass crack until his fingertip found her rosebud. He wiggled his finger again, this time pressing the tip in, barely opening the anus at all. "Tell me now," Nate said sternly, "whose asshole is this?"

Briana tried not to cry, but her sobs involuntarily escaped in little gasps. She didn't say it this time, so this time Nate slapped her left tit harder with his free hand. 

"Owwww!" Briana cried, but she didn't take her hands off her head. 

"Say it, or leave," Nate ordered, pressing his finger up her ass a little further. 

"This is your asshole," she sobbed openly, "to do whatever you want for your recreation and pleasure." She hung her head and cried. 

With his right middle finger still wiggling inside Briana's outer anus, Nate reached his left hand to her mouth, and traced his index finger over her lips. "Last but not least," Nate pressed on, "whose mouth is this?"

She replied despondently. She was defeated, no longer crying. "This is your mouth," she said sullenly, "for you to do whatever you want for your recreation and pleasure."

"Right," Nate said, pulling his right middle finger out of her asshole, and he touched the same finger to her lips. "Now suck my finger with my mouth," he ordered. Briana closed her eyes again, and opened her lips, and the finger that was just inside her ass into her mouth and sucked on it. She nearly wretched at the thought of his smelly finger in her mouth. 

Nate pulled his finger out of her mouth. "So remember," Nate lectured, "these are my tits, my pussy, my asshole, and my mouth to do whatever I want for my recreation and pleasure. They are not yours to decide what to do with. Is that clear?"

Briana nodded. Nate slapped her hard on her ass cheek, and Briana yelped, but she held her hands behind her back. "I can't hear you," he chided. 

"Yes," Briana said this time, "that is clear."

"Good," Nate rewarded. "Now, kneel on the side of the bed." Briana walked to the side of the bed, and climbed on to it on her knees with her feet hanging off the edge of the mattress. "Now," Nate continued, "bend forward, reach your hands through your knees, and grab your ankles." Briana bent all the way forward so her head was lying on the bed, and she pushed her hands between her open legs, and grabbed her right ankle with her right hand, and left ankle with her left hand. The effect left Briana's ass jutting upwards in the air with her cheeks spread apart. Her pussy lips were pulled open, and Nate could easily see an inch up her fuck hole. "Stay in that position until I say you can move," Nate ordered. 

Nate ran his fingertips over her newly shaved pussy. Briana had done a good job. Not a single pubic hair remained. He saw the pink abrasion between her pussy and asshole where she scraped the skin too hard. He touched it and Briana flinched, but she did not release her grip on her own ankles. "You did a good job shaving," he complimented Briana. 

Nate left Briana in her ass-high ankle grip position and went to the bathroom. There he retrieved a tube of moisturizing salve his ex-girlfriend used. He returned to the bedroom, and squeezed out a long dollop onto his fingers and gently rubbed it into Briana's freshly shaved skin. 

Nate warned Briana to hold her position. He left the room again and opened a closet door in the hallway. He looked through some boxes until he found what he was looking for. Three months earlier, Nate had a short-lived relationship with a girlfriend, Kate, a fiery redhead who had way too many daddy issues for Nate to cope with. Kate was high energy, impulsive, and impatient, which Nate found attractive at first, especially in bed, but over time those same admirable qualities became a curse. The relationship ended abruptly, Nate reasoned more out of incompatibility than anyone's fault, and Kate moved out, leaving much behind. 

One day when they were still together, Kate developed a persistent earache, and she purchased a hot water bottle to try to relieve the pain. In her impulsiveness, Kate picked up the first hot water bottle she saw in the apothecary, not realizing it came with both an enema and douche kit. Presently, Nate retrieved the water bottle and, as yet unused enema kit – one of several items Kate left behind in her hasty exit. 

He took the hot water bottle to the kitchen, checking that Briana was still in her ass-up ankle grip position on the way. He filled the bottle with lukewarm water and added a couple of tablespoons of salt. He sealed the bottle and shook it vigorously on the way back up the stairs. Nate attached the enema hose to the bottle cap, and clamped it shut before he re-entered the bedroom. He retrieved the KY tube from his bedside drawer and applied a healthy dab to the nozzle.

Nate took position behind Briana, who was still kneeling on the edge of the bed with her hands threaded through her knees and locked onto her ankles. Her puckered rosebud was exposed with her ass cheeks spread open. Nate gently caressed her left ass cheek, then her right. With his left hand Nate began stroking her freshly shaven split pussy, rubbing his middle finger up and down Briana's tender inner pink lips.

Nate touched the end of the lubricated enema probe to her anus, and easily pressed it all the way in. Briana sucked in a gasp of surprise when she felt the round plastic tube invade her most private place, but to her credit, Briana did not let go of her ankles. Nate lifted the water bottle high over her back and released the clamp, letting the warm salt water flow into Briana's bowels. 

After a few minutes, the water bottle was nearly empty. Briana began squirming as her intestines demanded relief with explosive urgency. Nate pulled the anal probe out. He released her from ankle grip position, and told Briana she could use the bathroom when she wanted. Then Nate walked ahead of her to the bathroom to dismantle and clean the enema kit. 

Briana's urgency grew critical. She stood at the bathroom door and begged Nate to let her use the bathroom. He gestured to the vacant toilet while he stood beside it, cleaning the enema kit in the sink. "Help yourself," was all he offered. Briana considered going down the stairs to the other toilet, but the pressure on her bowels was so severe she honestly thought she would not make it before something leaked. Conceding another personal defeat of desperate humiliation, Briana sat on the toilet beside Nate and relieved her bowels as the watery mixture thundered into the toilet bowl accompanied by an embarrassing symphony of biological trumpets. Nothing was more private to Briana than taking a shit on the toilet. Even in her most intimate relationships, Briana always locked the bathroom door for number two, but Nate robbed her of this most sacred privacy. 

When she finished wiping herself, Nate further insulted Briana's shattered dignity when he told her to shower the splash off her ass. Nate put away the cleaned hot water bottle kit while Briana stepped into the bathtub again and showered off the residue off her ass. She wished her shame would wash down the drain just as easily. Nate told her to towel off and come to the bedroom. 

When the naked Briana entered the bedroom, Nate also stood naked, but he had an assortment of toys on the bed. He told Briana to get on the bed. She crawled onto the bed and rolled onto her back. He grabbed her legs and opened her knees wide to show off her freshly shaved pussy. 

Nate told her to get on her knees, doggy style, with her head down. She rolled over, set her knees apart, and lowered her shoulders to the mattress. Nate retrieved his two dildos from the bedside drawers and a tube of KY. He lightly lubricated the first one, and plunged it without warning into her open pussy. Briana gasped inwardly at the surprised invasion. 

He pushed the dildo all the way in, and Briana wiggled her hips in mild discomfort when the tip of the dildo found her cervix. He left the dildo deep inside Briana, and used the KY to generously lube the second one. He placed the lubricated tip against her sphincter. Briana clenched her butt muscles at the sensation of the cold, lubricated dildo knocking at her virgin back door.

"This will hurt less if you don't squeeze," Nate offered. "In fact, the best thing to do is to push gently, like you are taking a shit." He started pushing it in, and Briana tried to relax her sphincter muscles. The KY did its job, and two seconds the whole usable length of the dildo was up Briana's ass.

Nate grabbed her pussy dildo with his left hand, and her anus dildo with his right, and began alternately pumping them in and out of their respective holes, so as he pushed the pussy dildo in, he pulled the ass dildo out, and vice versa. After she got over the initial discomfort and shock of the dildo up her ass, Briana mildly enjoyed the sensation of the tandem dildo action. 

He continued alternately dildo-fucking her two holes for several minutes. Finally, he pulled both dildos out. Nate first brought the pussy dildo to her mouth, and told her to suck it clean. Briana didn't know which one it was, and fearing it was the anal dildo, she hesitated. Nate slapped her ass hard – not brutally hard, but enough to make Briana startle with a yelp. She took the hint, parted her lips, and allowed Nate to push the dildo into her mouth. When that dildo was shiny clean, he pulled it out and pressed the asshole dildo to her lips. This time she could smell a faint odor. She closed her eyes, and opened her lips, and sucked it clean. Briana was surprised that the taste was nearly absent. The KY overpowered the taste of her rectum. 

Nate told Briana to roll onto her back. Nate kneeled between her legs, and aimed his hardened cock at her pussy. The lubrication from the dildo allowed Nate to slide in effortlessly, and he began fucking Briana earnestly missionary style. When he felt the first tingling in his balls, Nate pulled out. He reached under her knees and rested her ankles on his shoulders, and told her to keep them there. The effect rotated Briana's hips upward, allowing Nate to reposition his cock at Briana's rosebud. She closed her eyes and braced for the assault. 

"Remember to push," Nate reminded her as he pressed in slightly. The thick KY lubricant from the dildo was still in place, and once Nate had pressed the tip of his bare cock past her sphincter, he slipped the rest of his cock up her chute with ease. Briana gasped with surprise. She had been pushing, as he told her to, and she was pleasantly surprised when it did not hurt nearly as much as she expected. 

Nate began fucking her ass, and as he did he watched her large tits oscillate up and down in rhythm to his efforts. Her tight asshole gripped his cock firmly, and he knew he would reach climax quickly. Nate started ramming hard up Briana's butt hole, slapping his pelvis into her ass cheeks on each thrust. Now her tits slammed hard up and down, and the visual imagery of her firm tits slapping themselves on her chest drove Nate wild. He felt his balls approach detonation, and quickened his strokes. Finally Nate dug his fingers deep into Briana's hips as his balls pumped burst after burst of hot jism deep in Briana's bowels. 

As Nate relaxed with his cock still up her chute, Briana considered the entire event less horrifying than she was expecting. She didn't find it arousing – she could never achieve orgasm from anal sex – but at least it wasn't as painful as she expected.  

Nate pulled out of her ass, and predictably repositioned his cock over her face, and told her to clean it off. Buoyed by the dildo experience, she opened her mouth and sucked him thoroughly, again tasting very little unpleasantness. 

Nate lay down beside her, and pulled Briana into an embrace. He pulled the duvet over them both, and they lay together for 15 minutes with his arms securely around her. 

After his post coital bliss wore off, Nate sat up, picked up the dildos and took them to the bathroom to wash in warm soapy water, then he sterilized them with alcohol before returning to the bedroom and putting them away in the bedside drawer. He climbed on the bed beside Briana. She had the TV remote, was channel surfed until she found an episode of CSI Miami, and they watched it naked together. Periodically during the show, Nate petted Briana's bald pussy before slipping one or two fingers inside.  

"You really do have an obsession for fingering girls' pussies," Briana said after he had ordered her to suck his fingers clean. 

"Obsession might be too strong a word," Nate corrected. "I think hankering might be closer. I don't let it control me," he explained the difference, "but I take every opportunity that pops up."

"And what's with this sucking the fingers after?" Briana asked, "or sucking your cock clean. How is that even remotely attractive?"

"You gotta be a guy to understand," was the only explanation Nate could offer. 

- - - 

Pavlina Zuzana Kozak arrived at the Hamburg airport two hours after Brandt had filed the papers on her behalf with the police. Pavlina had handed over Nate's five thousand euros, and signed a final release form guaranteeing she would leave the country. Brandt gave her a printed airline ticket he purchased on Pavlina's behalf, the expense for which would appear in his next invoice to Nate. 

Pavlina was admonished by both the police and her lawyer that, under no uncertain terms was she permitted to miss her flights – for doing so would result in her immediate arrest. The AeB program once escorted foreigners to the airport, but later changed that practice due to budget constraints. Instead, the police issued Pavlina an official document called a release card. Pavlina was required to present the release card to the gate agent before boarding her flight, and the gate agent would enter the card information in to the airline computer. Thomas also explained that the computer would confirm Pavlina boarded the plane when she presented her boarding pass to the Lufthansa gate agent, and the Lufthansa computer would also pass that information to the police, so she cannot simply present the release card and then leave the terminal. In Pavlina's case, her flight was routed through Frankfurt, and the Lufthansa computer would monitor both the Frankfurt and the Prague flights as she boarded each one. Once the computer confirmed she had boarded the second flight, Pavlina was no longer Germany's problem.

Pavlina had already passed through airport security, and arrived at the gate nearly three hours before her flight to Frankfurt was scheduled to leave. She went to the gate agent, and presented her release card. The Lufthansa agent took the card without saying a word, and he typed the information into his computer, and then kept the card as Brandt said he would. The agent cautioned Pavlina that her flight was not boarding yet – she arrived at the gate so early that a different flight to Milan was about to board, and Pavlina's flight to Frankfurt would board in two hours. Pavlina thanked him, and took a seat far away from the boarding area, and watched. 

As the airport public address system announced the Milan flight, Briana watched six families with small children approach the gate agents to pre-board before the regular passengers. Two families were women alone with infants. One mother was fully organized, the other was a mess. The disorganized woman dug through her purse, the baby diaper bag, and before she finally found her boarding pass in a carry-on bag. Then she hunted equally as long for her passport. When finally she passed through the gate with her child, the organized mother was already seated on the plane. The gate agent opened the passport, processed the boarding pass, and returned the documents to each person as they passed through the screening process.

Pavlina knew she was not going to board the plane. She just didn't know how to do it without being arrested. Watching the mothers board with their infants gave Pavlina the inkling of a plan.

Time frittered away as Pavlina loitered near, but never in the waiting are for her gate. She always sat in a crowd of nearby waiting areas, not wanting to look out of place. She knew there were security cameras everywhere, and if someone really wanted to, they could reconstruct her every movement at a later date, but for now she didn't want to stand apart, which meant sticking with the crowd – any crowd would do.

Pavlina didn't know airplanes, but when her airplane pulled up to the gate, it looked bigger than the Milan plane. The Hamburg – Frankfurt route was a busy travel corridor, and Lufthansa filled the demand with an Airbus A310 instead of the A320 that flew to Milan. In spite of its lower number, the A310 holds considerably more passengers than the smaller 320. That meant there were many more passengers waiting in the gate area. Pavlina kept her eye out for single moms, especially women travelling with infants.

A different crew of agents manned the gate for the Frankfurt flight than the Milan flight, which was good for Pavlina. It meant that there was no chance, remote as it might be, that the agent who administered Pavlina's release card would recognize her as he processed her boarding pass. Pavlina waited patiently for an opportunity to present itself. Her alternative was to walk away. She could board the plane and fly part way to Frankfurt, and then disappear, but Hamburg was by far the larger city – three times larger. It was much easier to melt into the background in Hamburg than in Frankfurt. Only Berlin was larger, and while that was Pavlina's desired destination, but she had no means to fly there. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 06



So it was going to be Hamburg or nothing. Pavlina waited and waited, and finally, as they announced pre-boarding, a single mom with an infant got up and walked to a nearby bathroom. Perhaps an unpleasant odor had heralded a recent biological urgency. Whatever the reason, mom held her child in her arm, and toted all her travel bags into the washroom. Pavlina followed, and headed for a stall while mom unfolded the baby changing station on the wall. As Pavlina walked past the mom, she noticed mom had a flat pocket on the outside of her purse where she kept her passport and boarding pass neatly tucked away, and accessible for quick retrieval. Pavlina got lucky – mom was organized. 

Pavlina closed the stall door, but did not use the toilet. She stood silently, and within seconds the smell in the bathroom quickly confirmed that baby had deposited a present for mom to deal with. Pavlina flushed the toilet, opened the stall door, stepped into the bathroom, and stopped for a moment, scanning the situation. Mom was applying a fresh diaper to her baby at the fold-open station, and she had set her purse close by at the end of the counter with six sinks. A paper towel dispenser rested on the wall over the woman's purse. 

Pavlina walked to a sink near the purse, but not right beside it, turned on the tap, and pretended to wash her hands, but never let the water touch her dry fingers. Mom was busy tossing out the rolled up, smelly diaper, and didn't even notice Pavlina's odd behavior. Then Pavlina went to the left of the counter – exactly where the woman's purse was, and pulled paper towels out of the dispenser with her left hand as a distraction. With her right hand, Pavlina pulled mom's passport and boarding pass out of the purse, and replaced it with her own passport and boarding pass in exactly the same position.

Pavlina smiled at the hurried mom as she left the bathroom. Pavlina took up her position far away from the gate, but within view of the boarding process. She watched and waited until mom and infant came out of the bathroom. Having missed her pre-boarding opportunity, mom stood in line with everyone else, and Pavlina watched her shuffle agonizingly slowly toward the gate in a long line-up of travellers. Ten minutes went by while the gate agents processed over 100 passengers ahead of mom. Finally mom and infant were two people away from boarding. Pavlina's heart was pounding. She was ready to turn and walk away if the woman discovered she held the wrong passport. It would not take her long to realize the only opportunity for the switch to happen was in the washroom. 

Pavlina wanted to run, but she needed to know if the switch was successful. Then mom was one person away. Without looking, she reached to her purse, felt exactly where the passport should be. She started opening it, but the agent asked for her documents, so she just handed the passport, semi-opened with her thumb in the picture page where the boarding pass also was, and she handed them to the agent. 

9/11 happened a long time ago. Ostensibly airport security was as strict as ever, but everyone had relaxed in the intervening 15 years. So the ticket agent looked at the passport, scanned the boarding pass, and without comparing the passport picture to the person, closed it and handed it back to mom, wishing her a pleasant flight, and told her what her seat number was. Mom smiled and thanked the gate agent, and slid the passport and boarding pass back to into the flat pocket on the outside of her purse, and disappeared down the jetway toward the waiting aircraft. 

Pavlina let out a huge sigh of relief, turned on her heel, and joined a stream of passengers from an incoming flight who were deplaning at another gate. She walked with them, staying in the crowd, and walked through the secure exit, into the main terminal. As far as the Hamburg police knew, Pavlina Kozak had just boarded the plane to Frankfurt. Later, the Lufthansa computers would report she never boarded the onward flight to Prague. Their search for the AeB fugitive would begin in Frankfurt, and Pavlina was hoping that misdirection would give her enough time. 

Eventually, mom would realize she had the wrong passport. But if Pavlina was lucky – really lucky – mom was flying home to Frankfurt, and was not connecting to another flight. She would go home, tuck her passport away in its proper place without another glance at it, and not even notice she had the wrong document for weeks, months, or years to come. Pavlina couldn't count on such luck, because mom was probably transferring to another flight. Although Frankfurt is a much smaller city, it is the largest airport in Germany, and the Frankfurt airport serves as the Lufthansa hub, not just for Germany, but for the globe. Mom could be going anywhere. She likely has a connecting flight, and the name on her next boarding pass won't match the name on her passport. Even a relaxed gate agent will notice that. Worse, for all Pavlina could know, mom might check her passport in mid-flight, and detect the switch before her flight lands in Frankfurt. She will reconstruct what must have happened, and alert the police as soon as she lands. They police will take a keen interest in pinpointing someone who went through the risk and trouble to steal a passport. 

The flight from Hamburg to Frankfurt takes an hour and ten minutes. Pavlina had maybe 90 minutes before things would start to unravel. She walked to a quiet corner of the airport, checked that no security cameras were watching her, and looked at her stolen passport. Reanna Babette Monnig didn't look much like Pavlina. She hoped it didn't matter. Pavlina navigated the subway network to the Hauptbahnhof South station, Hamburg's largest train station. There Pavlina purchased a one-way ticket to Berlin with Nate's spending cash. 

She went to the ticket counter, instead of the automated machine which would read her passport electronically. The disinterested sales clerk behind the plate glass asked for her identification, but when Pavlina dropped Reanna Monnig's passport into the sliding tray below the bulletproof glass barrier, he barely glanced at the document, and certainly did not record any details. By paying cash, Pavlina left no trace of her destination. She boarded the train right away, which pulled out of the station exactly on time at 21:02. In a few hours, Pavlina melted into the anonymous streets of Berlin. 

- - -

The cell phone beside his bed awoke Nate at 8:02 Saturday morning. Thomas Brandt was calling, which was unusual so early on a Saturday. Herr Brandt explained he had been roused by the police at 5 o'clock. It seems Pavlina had not made her connection in Frankfurt, and they questioned him about his role in her AeB processing. 

Brandt explained the police asked where Briana was living, and as an office of the court, he was compelled to tell them. Brandt speculated the police were on their way right now to arrest Briana and revoke her AeB status. Technically, he explained, they were not allowed to do that, but as few AeB subjects have the means to challenge the police's actions, they do it anyway. Brandt recommended Briana get dressed immediately, and prepare to be taken into custody. For Briana to flee was a serious mistake, he cautioned Nate. 

Nate woke Briana up, and then retrieved her original jeans and T-shirt from his office downstairs. "Get dressed," he ordered her, handing Briana the clothes she was wearing on the day they met. 

"What's going on?" Briana asked as she pulled her underpants on. 

"Pavlina disappeared," Nate explained. "She went as far as Frankfurt, and then bolted. The police are coming here to question you," he lied. "They are on their way, so get dressed."

Briana dressed quickly, and then went to the bathroom. Nate took the opportunity to get dressed himself when the knock came at the door. Not surprisingly, the police had made it through the building's front security door. Nate pulled his T-shirt over his head, and went downstairs. He opened the door with the chain still attached. "Yes?"

"Herr Traymore?" a uniformed policeman asked through the crack in the door?

"Ya," Nate answered.

"I am here for Fraulein Evans," he explained in German. Nate pushed the door closed, released the chain, and opened it wide this time. Two more uniformed policemen were in the hallway. Nate invited them in. Two stepped through the door, and the third remained in the hall. Nate closed the door.

"She is getting dressed," Nate explained in German. "I will get her. Please wait here." Nate climbed the stairs, and found the bathroom door still shut. "Briana," he knocked, "come out please." He was about to knock again after several seconds of silence when the door unlatched and Briana appeared. "The police would like to see you." She nodded with silent apprehension. 

Nate gestured Briana to lead the way downstairs, and he followed. When they reached the bottom, the lead policeman asked "Fraulein Briana Carly Evans?" She nodded. "I am taking you into custody by order of the Directorate of the Ausländer equitiable Behandlung," and the second policeman walked behind Briana and handcuffed her. 

Suddenly Briana realized why Nate told her to dress in her jeans. "You bastard!" she snarled at Nate in English as the sounds of the handcuffs clasped upon her wrists. 

"Hey," Nate held his free palms up, "none of this was my doing, but I will do what I can to help. I will call Brandt, and work on your release."

"Fuck you!" she snapped back as the police led her away in cuffs. 

"Are you saying you don't want me to get you out?" Nate asked flatly. 

Briana's face collapsed from anger to dread. "Yes, please yes, Nate" she begged shamelessly, "and I will ... you know," she offered with unguarded desperation, and then quickly looked at the ground, hoping the police didn't catch the reference. 

Nate followed the two policemen who opened the apartment door and led Briana handcuffed into the hallway, where the third officer was still waiting. The three officers ushered Briana down the hallway to the elevator. Nate followed, and saw two more uniformed policemen in the ground floor foyer below. He imagined more police officers were lurking in tactical locations. 

Nate called Thomas Brandt after returning to his apartment, and told him the police had taken Briana into custody. Brandt said he would go to the AeB office and petition for her release first thing Monday morning. Nothing could be done before then, he cautioned. 

Nate hung up and cleaned up the apartment. He collected all of Briana's items into her duffle bag.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07



Generations

Nate returned to work on Monday morning. Brandt phoned twice that day. In the morning he phoned to say he had been to the AeB directorate, and had filed a formal petition to release Briana. He explained he was concerned about the outstanding school loan – they might not grant her release while it is outstanding, and she cannot dispatch the loan while in custody. He phoned again later that same day to say he had seen Briana. She was emotionally devastated and physically exhausted, but otherwise she appeared to be healthy. She was being held in a cell with three other AeB women. Briana told Brandt she was the only one represented by counsel, and the other women constantly pestered her to let Brandt represent them too. Briana did not otherwise report any problems with the three other women inmates. Brandt did say he was passing a message on to Nate from Briana. She said the police came to the detention center to question her about the restaurant with the table on the balcony, and she told the truth, exactly like he told her to. Nate nodded to himself, understanding Briana's coded message. She did not tell them about the encounter with the Romanians. 

Brandt explained that Briana was still in the AeB program, which was good. It meant they had not revoked her AeB status, because if they had, she would be remanded to a general population detention center to await her original trespassing trial. The AeB center, he assured Nate, was a much preferred form of incarceration than general detention. 

By late afternoon Nate could not put off returning Detective Visel's call any longer. He called the Hamburg police, and asked to speak with the detective. He recognized her voice from the answering machine when Detective Visel came on the line. She explained she was following up on a routine matter, and asked about the restaurant. Nate explained he had been to the restaurant with two ladies, and then they returned home together after the meal. She asked who he was with, and he replied it was Pavlina Kozak and Briana Evans, and he further explained his supporting role in their AeB status. She asked how he knew the two women, and Nate explained he didn't know Pavlina, but knew Briana from Canada. 

Detective Visel returned to the night of the dinner, and asked if Nate had heard or seen anything unusual as they left. Nate said he had read about a murder in the neighbourhood, and wondered if that was what the call was about. Detective Visel did not respond. No – Nate had not heard or seen anything unusual. They walked straight home. 

The interview took half an hour. Detective Visel thanked him for his time, and hung up. Hopefully that was one bullet dodged. 

On Tuesday afternoon Brandt called and explained the police had put two seemingly unrelated incidents together, and were now operating on a theory that Pavlina never flew to Frankfurt, and had instead swapped passports with someone else on the outbound Hamburg flight. The police questioned Briana again, and apparently Nate was next on their interrogation list. Nate phoned Henry Taggart, his own lawyer, and asked if Taggart should be present during the questioning. After Nate relayed the details of Pavlina's disappearance, Taggart agreed his participation was warranted. Taggart said he would contact the police and call Nate back.

Twenty minutes later, Taggart returned Nate's call. Yes, he explained, the Hamburg police want to question Nate, and so do the BPOL. The Bundespolizei, or BPOL, is the German federal police, who have taken in interest in Pavlina's case. With the investigation reaching the federal level, Taggart considered it important Nate have counsel present. He had arranged an interview to take place on Wednesday morning at 9:00. Taggart invited Nate to his office at 8:00 in the morning, and they would walk to the police station next to city hall together. 

Nate had no idea how much Brandt was charging him for Briana's ongoing AeB saga, but he seemed actively engaged. Now Nate was hiring Taggart to represent him in questioning with two police forces. He was beginning to think this whole wet dream had become a colossal mistake. 

The interview on Wednesday morning took three hours. They wanted to know every aspect of Nate's relationship with Pavlina. He explained he did not know her before he met her in the park with Briana. In responding to their questions, Nate told everything about his week with the girls except for the encounter with the Romanians in the courtyard, and except for the sex-for-money deal. The questions circled around his relationship with Pavlina and Briana for a long time. They flirted with the topic of sex with either Briana or Pavlina, but each time the cops broached that subject, Taggart intervened and said that Nate's private life was not relevant to Pavlina's disappearance. . 

By noon they ran out of questions, and they concluded the interview. Nate walked with Taggart back to the lawyer's office, and they reviewed the morning's events along the way. Taggart said it was likely Nate was in the clear – all of the police's questions were broad and open ended. Taggart was quite certain they would have asked much more pointed questions if they suspected Nate had any part in Pavlina's disappearance. 

Nate had barely returned to work in the early afternoon when Thomas Brandt called him on his cell. The AeB Directorate had completed their investigation. They were prepared to release Briana into Nate's custody on a 20,000 Euro bond, or about $25,000 US. The bond would be repaid, minus a 1% administration fee, once Briana was confirmed to have left the European Union, which could only happen after she paid her London School of Economics debt. 

"I guess she's staying in jail, then," Nate remarked flatly. 

"I was thinking that would be the likely outcome," Brandt nodded at the other end of the phone line. "The AeB doesn't care either way, however it will be nearly impossible for Fraulein Evans to clear her school debt while incarcerated," Brandt explained. "Her AeB status will expire in 24 days, and then she will be transferred to a general detention center. It pretty much assures she will be convicted of the earlier criminal offence." Nate asked how long Briana would remain in jail. Brandt said the problem is on the criminal justice side, not the AeB – the courts are backed up. Perhaps six to twelve months, he ventured, and then she will be deported and barred from ever returning to any EU country. She will also be barred from entering the USA, Brandt explained, as the EU and the Americans share criminal conviction records. 

It seemed grossly unfair for Briana to spend a year in jail for a misdemeanor like trespassing, but on the other hand, parting with $25,000 was hardly Nate's responsibility. Nate told Brandt to wrap up the case and send Nate the bill. Brandt agreed, but insisted he would stay in touch with Briana on his own time. He explained he was at the AeB directorate enough times in a week to occasionally stop in and check in on her. Not being an immediately family member or her lawyer, Nate was not permitted to visit Briana in the AeB detention center, which suited Nate just fine.

Nate's job was busy enough to keep his mind off of Briana most of the time, but he found his thoughts wondering to her and Pavlina from time to time. Pavlina's escape was a bold move, and so futile. She had a clear way home. She could have gone to Prague, and then disappeared there. What a waste.

He cruised through the balance of the week, focusing on work, putting in unusually long hours, even for him. Nate left the office at 5 PM on Friday – early for Nate – because he badly needed to pick up some groceries for the weekend before the store closed. The hot weather was finally breaking – it was only 26 degrees Celsius, much more comfortable than the previous weeks' sweltering thirties. Rain was in the weekend forecast, which was unfortunate, because Nate was looking forward to attending an outdoor music festival on Saturday. Nate crossed the street from the grocery store to his apartment building with one reusable canvas bag hanging from each hand. 

As Nate rounded the corner of his apartment building someone called his name. "Mr. Traymore," he heard an unfamiliar woman's voice. It was a native English voice, there was no German accent. Likely American. Nate stopped and scanned the plaza between the apartment building and the park across the road. An attractive woman in her early thirties was approaching him. She wore a dark blue skirt and white button up short sleeve blouse. He would have pegged her for a business woman, except for the casual nurse's shoes. 

"Mr. Traymore," she called out again, this time raising her hand slightly. Nate looked right at her. As the woman closed within 20 feet, Nate recognized something very familiar in her face. He searched through his memory, but as she smiled, he instantly knew who it was.

"I guess I should not be surprised to see you here," he called out. He had met Briana's mother only twice before. "Have you been waiting long?" he asked as she closed the gap to him. It was obvious she had been camping on a park bench in the plaza waiting for Nate to come home. She looked like she hadn't slept in a few days, which Nate surmised might be the case. Her hair was rumpled and there were faint bags under her eyes. She carried a small brown purse with a thin strap that hung over her right shoulder. 

"I don't have your cell number," she explained. "I waited here hoping to catch you going in."

"Martha, is it?" Nate checked cautiously. 

She nodded and extended her hand. Nate switched one bag to the other hand, holding two in his left hand, and greeted her handshake. Her hand was soft and warm. "Mr. Traymore, I am so glad that I ..."

"Nate," he interrupted. "Please call me Nate."

"Right, Nate," she nodded to herself, committing it to memory. "Anyway, I was really hoping to catch you. I know you know about Briana."

"I thought you two were ... ah ... not speaking," Nate didn't know how to put it delicately. 

"I suppose we weren't," Martha pursed her chin with conflicted memories, "but when your little girl needs your help, well ..." she let the sentiment finish her sentence. 

"Do you want to come in?" Nate asked, point his chin toward the front door. 

"If you don't mind," she nodded eagerly. She turned her head toward the bench where she had been sitting, and Nate noticed a small suitcase – the size that just barely fits under the seat in front of you on a plane. "Just let me get my things," and she trotted easily to the bench, picked it up, and trotted back with her suitcase in her left hand while her right hand held her purse from swaying wildly. She returned without a trace of exertion in her breathing. Martha was obviously in good shape. Nate watched the outline of her firm ass through her skirt as Martha jogged away, and couldn't help but notice an undulation under her blouse on the return trip, as if she was not wearing a bra. The white fabric was too loose and thick to confirm visually. 

Nate still had both grocery bags in his left hand, so he fished his wallet out of his pant pocket with his right hand, and pressed the whole wallet against the card reader, knowing the RFID chip inside the card would work. The Nate entered his pass code on the keyboard. The door unlocked, and Nate held it open for Martha. 

"It's just one floor up," Nate explained, taking the stairs. Martha easily tracked behind Nate as he climbed the stairs two at a time, and then turned right down the corridor toward his apartment. Nate opened the door and ushered Martha in, and closed the door behind him. She took her shoes off at the front entrance, even though Nate told her not to worry. To his surprise, she was not wearing any socks – an oversight of quick packing for an emergency trip, Nate guessed. "Have a seat," Nate gestured to the living room while he went to the kitchen and started putting the groceries away. 

"Have you lived here long?" she asked. 

"About eight months in this apartment," Nate called from the kitchen, checking the math mentally as he did. 

"Very nice," she complimented. "You live alone?"

"Pretty much," Nate offered cautiously, not certain how much Martha knew about his three-way tryst with her daughter. 

Martha took in the apartment surroundings, and then asked to use the washroom. Nate pointed it out, down the short hallway to the right. While she was in the bathroom, Nate pulled out his smart phone, and started up the recorder app, and put it in his shirt pocket with the microphone at the top, pointing away from his chest. 

Nate had just finished putting away the groceries when Martha returned from the bathroom. "I'm having some wine," he announced. "Would you like to join me?"

"Love to," she replied without a smile. He poured two glasses of red Borolo, and joined Martha in the living room. He sat in the chair at right angles to the sofa that she sat on, so they could easily see each other as they talked. He casually pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and rested it on the table between them, microphone side up.

"Have you seen Briana?" Nate asked. 

Martha nodded. "I was there this morning. I arrived on the overnight flight out of Toronto, I think around eight." Nate nodded – he knew that flight well. "She is not doing very well," Martha stared beyond the wall across the room. "She told me you hired a lawyer, and you had agreed to pay for her fees."

Nate nodded, and drew a long breath before speaking. "That was before she was arrested," he explained. "Now they want a 20,000 Euro bond. That's a little out of my league," he offered with a defensive shrug. 

"I can certainly understand that," Martha nodded. "I am sure if it were your child, the situation would be different, but considering it is just a former baby sitter ..." Nate didn't know where Martha was leading the conversation, but he sensed a trap. He proceeded carefully. 

"That's why you're here?" Nate asked, "To post the bond?"

"If it were but so," Martha mused, staring off again. "I don't know how much Briana told you, but I lost my job eleven months ago. I've burned through all my savings. I'm behind on the mortgage. I borrowed money just for the airfare here," she looked away in embarrassment. 

So why the hell did you come here, Nate didn't ask. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said instead, but offered nothing more. 

Martha took a long pull on her wine before continuing. "Briana told me everything," she said, looking directly at Nate. Nate started to look away, but fought the urge, and held her gaze firm, until she finally deflected her eyes. Nate remained quiet, because there was no way to know what 'everything' meant without incriminating himself with embarrassing questions. 'Oh, did your little girl mention I did her up the ass,' was not the way to broker a conversation with a mother in crisis.

Martha put her wine glass down, and then sat motionless for a few seconds before nodding emphatically to herself, having apparently concluded something important. Nate watched in silent disbelief as Martha quickly unbuttoned her blouse, and in a few seconds she pulled it off her shoulders, and as Nate suspected, her bare breasts graced the ambiance. Martha stood up, walked topless around the coffee table, faced Nate, and reached behind her, and unzipped her blue skirt, pushing it down her thighs. To Nate's surprise, she was not wearing underpants. In the next instant, Martha stood before Nate completely naked. 

Nate couldn't see any sag in her firm, supple C cupped tits. She had the figure of a swimmer – trim and lean with smooth muscles. Yes, Nate thought, she could easily pass for Briana's more beautiful older sister. Nate would peg her at 32 if he didn't know she was in her mid-forties. Nate was surprised to see her pussy was completely bare, not a hint of stubble. Briana was by no means unattractive, but her mother had an exquisite facial beauty that, sadly, did not survive the genetic roulette passed down to Briana's DNA. 

Martha drew her hands behind her head, spread her feet wide apart, and breathed in a huge breath, closing her eyes. Finally she looked at Nate. "These are your tits for your pleasure and enjoyment," she announced with a faltering voice. She swallowed hard, looked down, and stifled a cry. Martha looked back at Nate. "This is your pussy for your pleasure and enjoyment," she said weakly. Nate watched in dumbfounded silence as Martha turned around, with her back to Nate, she set her legs wide apart. Martha bent over at the hips and grabbed her ankles, showing off her agile flexibility, not to mention a perfect ass. "This is your ass for your pleasure and enjoyment," she called between her legs. The sight of Martha's split-open pussy and exposed rosebud rocketed Nate's cock into hard overdrive. 

Martha stood up, turned, and walked around the coffee table, and kneeled naked on the floor in front of Nate. She reached for his trousers, and unzipped the fly, unbuckled his belt, and opened his pants up. She reached inside his bulging underpants and pulled out Nate's rock hard pistol, and started jerking him gently with one hand. "This is your mouth for your pleasure and enjoyment," she whispered at him, and instantly leaned forward and took Nate in to her loving mouth. 

Nate leaned his head back as Martha sucked hard on his rigid member. His swelling excitement grew quickly, as it had been nearly a week since Martha's own daughter had performed this very same service, and in his abstinence, Nate grew hornier. 

Sensing his growing excitement, Martha began jerking his shaft with her encircled right thumb and finger, while still pumping her tight lips up and down over the tip of his penis. Over the next few minutes Martha changed hands, but kept a tight seal on his shaft with her lips. The combination proved too much for Nate to resist, and within five minutes he felt his balls start to churn with imminent detonation. "Swallow it all," he breathed loudly to Martha. "Don't spill a drop," he instructed her. As Nate passed the point of no return, he put his hands over Martha's head and pushed her face into his groin, sending his quivering projectile deep into the back of her mouth. At last Nate unloaded into Martha's mouth, and she obediently gulped it down as he launched geyser after geyser at her tonsils. 

After Nate fired his last salvo, Martha pulled away and smacked her lips. She stood and retrieved her wine glass from the coffee table, and sat back on the sofa. After a long sip of wine to wash down the taste of Nate's cum, Martha asked "So, do we have a deal?"

Nate regarded her beautiful naked body before answering. "I'm not sure," he finally offered cautiously as he returned his softening package inside his underwear and pulled his pants back up. "What deal do you have in mind?"

"You put up the bond, pay for the AeB fee, pay the London School fine, pay the lawyer's fees, pay Briana's flight home, and I will make your fantasy come true."

"My fantasy?" Nate asked cautiously. 

"She told me it was your fantasy," Martha assured Nate. "Briana and me together. Once she comes out of jail, we will both be yours, and we will not say no."

"To anything?"

"You're the boss," she affirmed. 

"So," Nate reflected, making sure he understood the details, "starting right now, you do everything I tell you. And when Briana is released after I post the bond, she stays here with me, and you both do what I tell you." Martha nodded. 

All in all, it wasn't a bad deal. After all, Nate had already decided to pay the AeB fee and the LSE fine, so the only new cost was the bond, which he would get back - hopefully. "Okay," he finally said, "but on one condition." Martha waited without saying anything, so he pressed on. "While Briana is released on bond, you are responsible for her. There will be conditions imposed on her release – I don't know what they are yet, but you are responsible for making sure she complies with all of them. More than that, you are responsible for make sure she behaves in general. And just to make certain there is no misunderstanding, you agree to stay here with me, do everything I say, and you don't leave until I get my bond money back. That almost certainly means that, once Briana's AeB status is clear, she flies to Canada alone, and you stay here with me, still doing everything I want, until they process the paperwork and give me my bond money back."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07



Martha thought for a moment. Clearly that condition created a wrinkle she hadn't considered. "Deal," she finally nodded. 

"Go stand over there for inspection," Nate pointed to the center of the floor. Martha put her wine glass down, stood up, and padded naked to the center of the room. She put her hands behind her head, spread her feet wide, and waited. Nate picked up her purse from the coffee table and opened it. Inside he found her wallet, keys, passport, and cell phone, along with many other things. "I am keeping this in my safe," he said, lifting up the purse, "until I release you." He told her to stay still, and went to his office and locked her purse in his safe. 

Nate came back and picked up Martha's carry-on suitcase and placed it on the coffee table, and unzipped it. Martha stood naked, with her hands behind her head, and watched him go through everything – clothing, toiletries, and pictures of Briana. There were socks in the suitcase. Nate realized Martha planned well ahead, removing her socks before meeting Nate. He found a zipped compartment full of American money. He counted it out loud in front of Martha – three hundred and fifty dollars. "You'll get this back when you get your purse," he waved the bills in his hand, and went back to his office to lock the money in his safe. 

"So I am at your mercy," Martha observed when Nate returned. 

"That's what doing anything I want means," Nate agreed. He walked directly to Martha, who was still standing naked with her hands behind her head and her feet wide apart. "Kiss me with an open mouth," he ordered, and they kissed for a long time. Nate fondled Martha's tits – they were spectacularly firm. He slipped his hand down her tummy, still locked in a kiss, and Nate slipped his middle finger between her legs into her clean shaven pussy. Obediently, Martha continued kissing Nate as he plunged his middle finger into her fuck hole and started pumping in and out lightly. 

Nate pulled his finger out of Martha, and broke off his kiss. He touched his pussy smeared finger to her lips. "Suck it clean," he ordered, and without hesitation Martha took his finger into her mouth and sucked on it earnestly. "Get dressed," he ordered after pulling his finger out. "We're going out for supper."

Martha reached for her clothing while Nate retrieved his phone from the table. He turned off the voice recorder, and speed dialed Thomas Brandt. It was no surprise the call went to voicemail – it was past six on a Friday evening. Nate left a message for Thomas in English, allowing Martha to listen. Nate explained he had changed his mind – he will post the bond after all, and asked Thomas to prepare the paperwork to make that happen on Monday.

"Why wait for Monday?" Martha asked after Nate hung up.

"Because I don't have that kind of money in my bank account," Nate snapped back. "I need to liquidate some assets, and all the banks are closed until Monday," he explained. 

"But I have to do everything starting now," Martha quipped. 

"That's the deal," he shot back at her. "You in or out?"

"Oh, I'm in," she sighed. "I was just observing the unfairness of a power relationship," she mused as she buttoned up her blouse. 

Nate ignored her protest. "So here are the rules," Nate explained. "You are my special girlfriend. That means, you laugh at my stupid jokes, you smile at me lovingly, you hold my hand when I want. Basically, you act as if you adore me."

"No ego issues there," she retorted sardonically. 

Nate walked to her and slapped her hard across the face. Martha reeled in shock, and put her hand to her reddened cheek. "What did I just say?" Nate demanded. "That is not a rhetorical question. What did I just say?"

"I laugh at your stupid jokes, smile at you lovingly, hold your hand, and adore you," she recited, stifling a cry. 

"And was that comment about ego issues one of those?"

"No," she looked down sullenly. 

"Get down on your knees and apologize," he commanded. She kneeled down before him. "Look me in the eyes," Nate ordered, "and tell me what you did wrong, and how you will make sure you never do it again, then apologize."

"I am sorry," she looked at him. "I spoke to you in a non-adoring way. I will make sure I always think before I speak so I do not do that again. I am very sorry."

"Stand up," he ordered, and she stood. "Go to the end of the couch," he pointed. She walked to the side of the sofa, where he pointed, and faced the arm rest. "Hike your skirt all the way up so I can see your bare ass," he ordered. She pulled the hem of the skirt up, folding the fabric over itself, until the hem was well above her waist, and her ass cheeks hung out in the open air. "Now, spread your legs very wide, and bend over that sofa arm." She did as he commanded, and in a moment, she was bent of the end of the sofa with her legs wide apart. "Now you will take your punishment," he observed dryly. "Count out loud each time I spank you, and do not shout or cry."

He took position behind her bare ass. Her rosebud was exposed, as was her pussy. Nate smacked the palm of his hand hard against her left ass cheek. Martha grunted, and then hoarsely said "One."

"Louder, so I can hear you," he corrected.

"One," she repeated more forcefully.

He smacked the same spot hard. "Two!" she belted out, this time with tears of pain in her eyes. 

"Three, four, five, six," she called out each time he spanked her left cheek. The next six strikes hit her right ass cheek, and she counted to twelve. Then three on the inside left thigh. Nate knew those hurt badly, but she counted to fifteen. Three more on the inside right thigh – eighteen. Nate centered his hand dead center over her pussy, and delivered two final blows – not nearly as hard as the earlier ones. Martha shrieked, more with surprise than pain, but she managed to count to twenty. 

"Stand up," Nate ordered, "and fix your skirt." She stood and pressed the skirt back into its position. She rubbed her ass where Nate had spanked her. "Now thank me for correcting your wicked ways."

"Thank you," she whispered meekly, "for ..."

"No!," Nate snapped, and grabbed Martha's chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Thank me like you really mean it."

Martha closed her eyes for a moment to recompose her energy. "Thank you," she opened her eyes and spoke in a soft, determined voice. "Thank you very much for correcting my wicked ways."

Nate reached to her blouse, and undid the top two buttons, leaving a deep cleavage that plunged to the bottom of her breasts. No doubt a side-peek from the right angle would give a happy onlooker a pleasant view. "You will go out to dinner like that tonight," he explained, "to remind you of this lesson." He paused. "You are supposed to thank me again."

"Thank you," she said more loudly this time, "for correcting my wicked ways."

"So," Nate recapped, "how are you supposed to treat me?"

"I will smile, laugh at your jokes, and adore you," she recited again. 

"Okay, then," he said. "I noticed a jacket in your suitcase. You will probably want it." 

"Thank you," she offered, and retrieved an off-white zip-up jacket. Nate forbade her from zipping it up higher than the deep cleavage of her shirt. 

"Smile and lets go." Martha forced an unconvincing smile and followed Nate to the door. 

They walked hand-in-hand down the street to a seafood restaurant Nate frequented, and took the last vacant table on the sidewalk. As Martha sat down, she leaned forward, and her unbuttoned blouse gently fell away. Nate watched the young man at the next table enjoy a sideways peek into her open shirt. Martha was either oblivious, or no longer cared. 

Being in the Portuguese quarter, Nate ordered Vinho Verde, a lightly sparkling wine. Martha was clearly fatigued, suffering from the jet lag. Nate explained the best way to manage jet lag is to stay awake until it is time to sleep. Napping throughout the day only prolongs the adjustment. "Short term pain for long term gain," he recounted the platitude. 

"Story of my life," Martha reflected ruefully. "I'm still waiting for the gain." 

"So why have you come over here to rescue your daughter," he asked after the waiter poured out the first glasses of wine. "Briana told me you weren't talking."

"That's true," Martha nodded wistfully. "I made some bad mistakes when I was young. I see Briana going down the same path. Maybe ..." Martha stared into the open street without finishing her thought. 

"Some would argue you are enabling bad behaviour – perpetuating a cycle," Nate observed dispassionately, as if he was discussing theoretical social theory. 

"I know," Martha nodded. "I've tried tough love, but then I feel so guilty and alone."

"Does Briana know what you are doing ... with me?" Nate asked.

"We spoke for a long time this morning," Martha nodded. "She told me everything about you – about her and you, about you and Pavollina." Nate didn't bother correcting Martha's mispronunciation of Pavlina's name. "As I listened to her I first became angry at you, for exploiting her, but eventually I became more angry with her – for letting herself get into this problem in the first place. That whole nonsense with the London School ..." Martha rolled her eyes, recalling a great deal more than Nate could know. "It was a fiasco from the beginning. I was so ... so ... not surprised when she abandoned her year there," she recounted with bitterness. "I refused to clean up that mess. That was her doing, and she would have to face the consequences." Martha dabbed her eyes with her napkin, although Nate observed no tears. 

"Who would have thought that would come back and haunt her, and put her in jail in Germany?"

"Briana does seem reluctant to take responsibility for her own actions," Nate observed gently.

"Tell me about it," Martha snorted. "I mean really, what the fuck am I doing here?" Nate thought about correcting Martha – smile, laugh, adore – but decided against it. Nate opened this can of worms, and letting Martha vent could work in Nate's favor.  

The waiter returned to take their food order, but neither had looked at the menu. Martha asked Nate to order for her – she was too exhausted and distraught to decide. Nate ordered a garlic shrimp appetizer to share, an angel hair pasta for Martha with a scallop cream sauce (he checked Martha for food allergies first), and a pan fried spiced snapper for himself on a bed of caramelized onion rice. 

"You didn't answer my question," Nate said evenly. 

Martha paused for a moment in recollecting thought. "Does she know?" Martha composed her words carefully. "She suspected I was planning something," was all Martha offered. 

"And ..." Nate prompted.

"And she is very upset," Martha reported. 

"And that was part of the plan – to make her upset?"

"No," Martha considered for a moment, "but it has a useful side effect."

"Shame her into taking responsibility for her actions."

"Well, if she thinks she's ashamed ..." Martha didn't finish her sentence. She realized Nate was giving her a lot of leeway from her smile, laugh, adore mantra, but finishing that sentence would likely cross a line she would regret. 

Nate sensed Martha's inner restraint, and decided to cut things off. "Okay," he said, "enough of that. I know I started this conversation, and you have been emotionally honest with me, and I appreciate that. But starting now, I want you to smile, laugh, and adore me."

Martha smiled with sparkling eyes. "Of course, my dear," she cooed convincingly. 

"Come sit next to me," Nate gestured to the vacant chair to his right. It was a square table, and they had originally sat across from each other. 

"Of course, my dear," Martha smiled again, and stood up, and then sat in the chair facing the side of table not Nate's right. Nate leaned in and told her to kiss him, and she opened her mouth gently and kissed Nate tenderly. He brought his right hand to her rib cage, and with his right thumb, caressed the side of her left breast through the two layers of fabric. Nate broke off the kiss, retracted his hand, and sipped some more wine.

Nate asked how her flight was, and she told him about a young family that was noisy and bothersome during the whole time. She had no sleep on the plane, and it was past midnight in her home time zone. Needless to say, Briana was dead tired. 

Their food arrived after twenty minutes. Martha noticed Nate stare at his for a moment. She wondered if there had been a mistake in the order, but then he picked up his cutlery. They chatted aimlessly as they ate. Nate told her about Germany, how he had traveled quite a bit around the country, mostly in short trips. He opined how impressed he was by the German people. Before coming here, Nate had thought of Germans as cold and impersonal, but everyone he met was nice and helpful. He had spent most of his recent time in Northern Germany, being stationed in Hamburg, but made one trip to Heidelberg, and several years earlier Nate had worked in Munich for three years. 

Martha did her best to smile, laugh, and adore, but the jet lag increasingly overtook her best intentions, and the wine didn't help matters. By the time Nate paid, she felt dead on her feet. They walked home hand-in-hand, which suited Martha fine, and she leaned on Nate for support. 

When they arrived at Nate's apartment, Martha declared herself too tired to smile, laugh, and adore. She promised she would do a better job after a good night's sleep. Nate ordered her to strip in the living room, which took little time. "You will sleep naked in my bed," he told her, and kissed her again. She kissed him back. "Go ahead, and get ready. Call me when you're going to bed," he patted her tenderly on her ass. 

Martha, still naked, picked up her suitcase and clothing, and carried them to the upstairs bedroom. She retrieved her toiletries bag, and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. After finishing up on the toilet, Martha washed up, and called out to Nate she was ready for bed. 

Nate climbed the stairs by two, and walked Martha to the bedroom. He pulled the duvet down, and told her to lie down on her tummy. Nate stripped down to his underwear, and climbed over top of Martha, and straddled her, resting his butt on her thighs. Nate started to massage Martha's shoulders, then her arms, then her back, and then he lifted off her legs, and moved to one side and massaged her butt cheeks. No one had ever massaged Martha's ass cheeks before, and she was stunned how good it felt to have the muscles down deep invigorated by a firm massage. Then he massaged her legs, until he reached her feet, and firmly pressed this thumbs down the soles of her feet. Martha had fallen gently asleep when Nate ordered her to roll over onto her back. 

He straddled her hips again, this time tenderly massaging her face starting with her forehead, then her cheek bones, and worked his way to her neck. Then her upper chest, including a careful caress of her lovely tits, then down her rib cage. Nate dismounted her, and now brought his right hand between her legs, and massaged the soft flesh over her clitoris. Martha grew nervous, but Nate told her to relax. He massaged the soft folds over her pussy back-and-forth, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his fingers. Martha's breathing quickened, and her chest heaved her lovely tits up and down with increasing urgency. Martha clenched her fists with anticipation she drew closer to release. Nate didn't miss the cue, and pressed even harder into her clit, and sped up his oscillating motion. Martha started moaning with every breath. 

As Martha approached climax, Nate pinched her left nipple with his left thumb and forefinger, and started jiggling her tit side to side in pace with his right hand. The sudden attention to her tits catapulted Martha over the edge, and she drew in a deep breath and held it in while she arched her back as her pelvis burst into orgasmic spasms. Wave after wave drilled through her crotch and radiated throughout her body. The orgasmic tremors slowly subsided, and Martha let out a long, satiated breath. 

"Sweet dreams," Nate kissed Martha tenderly on her forehead, and pulled the bed covers over her naked body. Nate turned off the lights and retreated down the stairs to the living room. He went into his office. The computer clock read 21:03. It was 5:03 on Friday afternoon back home. Nate went online to his financial management portal, and cashed in two US dollar two treasury bills for $20,000 each. The portal told him it could take up to three business days for the money to appear in his account. He checked his line of credit – there was lots of room to cover the shortfall. 

Nate phoned his bank in Canada, and explained he wanted to move 40,000 in US dollars from his line of credit to a bank account in Germany, and he wanted access to the money on Monday. The bank agent said the money would arrive immediately by wire transfer, and there was a $20 service fee. She explained she was sending him an email with a link to a secure website. She told Nate had to log on using his on-line banking credentials and complete the form to authorize the transfer. The banking assistant told him she would be there for another thirty minutes before leaving work. She would look for the authorization to transfer the funds, and she promised to process it as soon as it arrived. 

The email with the link arrived at Nate's inbox while he was still on the phone with the banking agent. He thanked her, hung up, logged in, and completed the online form. It took all of two minutes to complete the form, including the details of the German bank account the money was to be wired to, and Nate hit the 'submit' button. 

Nate started parsing his email inbox for other messages. Two minutes later a pop-up notification announced another email had arrived from his bank. He opened it. It was the same woman from the bank – she confirmed she had received his funds release authorization, and she had wired the money – it was in his German account now. She thanked him for his business and closed by saying have a good weekend. Nate navigated his web browser to his German banking portal, and sure enough his account had gained over 36,000 Euro since he last looked at it. 

The rest of his evening was consumed by tidying up details of his consulting practice, preparing tax notices, compiling billing records, and writing his weekly progress report. He nursed another half bottle of red wine over the two hours of business housekeeping. At 11 PM, he decided to turn in. He turned the lights off and climbed the stairs by two. Nate brushed his teeth, and then quietly slipped into his dark bedroom. He undressed to his underwear, and then pulled the covers back on his side of the bed. Martha startled awake and sat up. "Who's there!?" she challenged. 

"It's okay," Nate soothed quietly, realizing she was probably disoriented. "Go back to sleep. You can smile, laugh, and adore me tomorrow." 

"Oh," was all she could muster, and lay back onto the bed, as the day's events came back to her, including the orgasm Nate administered to her sleep. Nate slipped onto the oversized bed beside her, and pulled the covers up. Martha was lying on her back. Nate snuggled beside her, and rested his left arm over her bare chest, gently cupping his hand over her left breast. Martha listened to Nate's breathing in the darkness, and heard him drift off to sleep in just a few minutes while his hand remained embracing her breast. 

She had shot a minor jolt of adrenaline when Nate awoke her, enough to keep her wide away while Nate purred softly beside her. She thought of the ridiculousness of her situation, of the lengths of indignity she was suffering to rescue her irresponsible, immature daughter. This had to stop. This had to be the last time. Martha had to break the cycle, and she lay awake for the next two hours pondering how to achieve that while Nate unconsciously caressed her bosom. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07



The truth was, that was the first time in perhaps five years that a man took the time to selflessly satisfy Martha the way Nate did with his massage. What a strange man, she thought – domineering and conniving, yet gentle and kind. Even his unconscious hand felt warm and caring on her tender skin – the same hand that only hours earlier mercilessly scolded her with a spanking on her most vulnerable of feminine places. She did not understand Nate, but she was beginning to understand why Briana trusted him. 

At some point Martha fell asleep, because she awoke again. Nate had rolled over, his hand no longer cupping her bare breast. She too had changed positions in her sleep. She found a digital clock beside the bed – it was 5:37. She could see the dawn breaking out the window. Having gone to bed at nine, Martha enjoyed eight hours sleep less the time she spent alternately worrying about Briana and Nate. As carefully and quietly as she could, Martha slipped out of the bed and found her suitcase in the dull morning glow of the window. 

She silently pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, and slipped out of the loft bedroom without a sound. Martha padded silently down the stairs, and head for the bathroom beside Nate's office. After she finished on the toilet, she washed and dried her hands, and then tiptoed across the hall into Nate's office. She immediately found the safe where she presumed Nate had stowed her purse and money. It had an electronic keypad, and a flashing green light. She wanted to push numbers at random, but she was worried the safe might make beeping noises with the key presses, or worse, sound an alarm with an invalid code. 

Instead, Martha settled on the chair behind the desk. It was neat and tidy – nothing out of place. Two laptops rested open, side by side. She tapped the keyboards on both of them, and both were password protected. She had no idea what passwords Nate might use, so that was a dead end. Martha tentatively opened the desk drawers, searching for password clues. The wide, shallow center drawer opened, and she found an assortment of pens, sticky pads, calculators, playing cards, a cell phone, calculator, and other items. There was nothing there that hinted of any passwords. The two vertical banks of drawers on either side of the desk were locked. 

She looked around the office. There was a bookshelf on the left wall and a printer and filing cabinet on the right wall. Across from the desk was the door. A planted tree stood in the corner to the right of the door. Like the desk, nothing was out of place ... except a bankers box rested on top of the filing cabinet. She rose from the chair and tested the filing cabinet, expecting it to be locked. She was not disappointed, so next Martha opened the lid of the bankers box. Inside was a strange assortment of hand guns – pistols and revolvers – each one encased in clear bubble wrap. There must have been at least a dozen weapons. 

"I would be disappointed if you didn't at least try," Nate called out from the doorway. He was still in his underpants. Martha gasped in fright and dropped the box lid. 

"Oh my God you scared me," she wheezed with her hand flattened across her chest. 

"You won't find anything useful in there," he assured her, and then he picked up the lid she dropped and fitted it back on the bankers box. "And just so we are clear," Nate admonished her, "you are not to come in this room without my permission."

"I'm sorry," Martha recovered from her startle. "I didn't know."

"That's not altogether accurate," Nate admonished. "You knew better than to come in my office, even though you were not told not to, and you certainly knew better than to snoop around in my private effects."

Martha wanted to protest, but she realized he was right. Worse, she considered denying it might lead to another punishment. "Yes, you're right," she conceded. "I am sorry. It will not happen again."

"Strip!" Nate ordered. Martha winced, hoping she might have evaded a punishment. It took nearly no time to pull down her sweatpants and hoist her T-shirt over her head until she was naked again. "Follow me, and bring your clothes," Nate ordered. He led Martha upstairs to the bedroom, where he told her to kneel on the edge of the bed, facing inward. "Now, bend all the way forward, and reach your hands between your legs, and grab your ankles," he ordered. She did as he commanded, leaving her ass pointed up with her pussy split open. Her pink anus was stretched, but remained tightly closed. 

Nate retrieved the enema kit he used on Briana, and proceeded to deliver the same salt water enema to her mother. When he was finished, he pulled the enema probe out of her puckered rosebud, and already the urgency to relieve her bowels grew fiercely intense. 

"Come over here," Nate pointed to the middle of the room, "and stand for inspection."

"But ..." Martha desperately needed the bathroom, but she knew Nate realized that. She gritted her teeth, fighting the growing pressure against her rectum, and walked stiffly to the center of the room, squeezing her butt cheeks closed. She raised her hands behind her head, and spread her feet wide. 

Nate pulled a pillow with a white case off the bed and tossed it on the floor between her spread-apart feet. "If one drop squeezed out and touches that pillow, yesterday's spanking will seem like a tender caress," Nate warned. Martha clenched her jaw and nodded with knotted muscles in her neck. 

"Repeat after me," Nate ordered. "I do not need to be told the difference between right and wrong."

She unclenched her jaw just enough to speak. "I ... do not need ... to be told the difference ... between right ... and wrong," she parsed with a broken cadence. 

"Now say 'one' as in the number one," Nate commanded. 

"One," she said quickly. 

"Good. Now say that sentence ninety nine more times, and say the count after each sentence, like you just did for one." Martha's heart sank. She was certain she could not reach ten, let alone 99. "Say it clearly and slowly, so I can understand each syllable. If you make a mistake, of if you don't enunciate it clearly, or if you lose count, you will start over at one," Nate explained the rules. "You can go to the bathroom after you reach one hundred."

Martha wanted to scream, but she knew that would only make matters worse. She drew in a huge breath. "I do not need to be told the difference between right and wrong, two. I do not need to be told the difference between right and wrong, three. I do not need to be told the difference between right and wrong, four ..."

As desperately as she needed to evacuate her bowels, Martha understood that rushing it would make matters worse, so she carefully, methodically recited her punishment a hundred times, keeping perfect count after each line. Somewhere around 80, she felt a drop squeeze out her anus, and she redoubled her clench on her but cheeks. She looked down, but saw no revealing brown stain on the pillow – thankfully it had run down her leg. Martha made it to 100, and Nate allowed her to use the bathroom. As he did with Briana, Nate went in to the bathroom too, and he washed off the enema kit in the sink while Martha unloaded the mix of salty water and feces into the toilet bowl with a single, loud bark. Nate told her to rinse off in the shower, and come to bed when she was done. 

When Martha entered the bedroom, Nate was lying naked on the bed with a fully erect flag pole. Come here, he patted the bed beside him. She sat on the bed beside him. "Get on your knees here," he patted the bed beside his head, "and put your hands behind your back." She kneeled beside his head and locked her fingers together behind her back. "Now keep your hands behind your back and suck me," he ordered. 

Martha instinctively knew she would fall forward as she leaned to suck his cock, so she repositioned herself closer to his hips, widened her knees for balance, and bent forward. He balance proved better than she thought, and she easily reached his cock and took Nate into her mouth. With no arms to rest with, it took a great deal of mid-body strength to bob her head up and down over his hardened shaft. 

As she began a clumsy blowjob, Nate reached his right hand across his body, and cupped her hanging tits in his palm, squeezing and playing with her undulating nipples. He reached his left hand around her hips, and slid his finger down her ass crack, land marking on her anus, and then continuing to her pussy. Nate gently drove his middle finger up her fuck hole, and began pumping his digit in and out of her pussy. When her vaginal juices started to flow, he pulled his finger out, and this time inserted his second and third fingers together in her naturally lubricated pleasure tunnel, and began finger fucking Martha earnestly as she continued sucking his even harder cock. 

Without admitting to being a slut, Martha had sucked enough cocks to know the technique down cold, but never before had she done it with her hands behind her back. Until then she never understood how important it was to rest some of her weight on her arms. Her neck was beginning to ache from the up and down motion, and her back and rib muscles were growing weak from bobbing up and down. 

Perhaps sensing her difficulty, Nate told her to stop. He pulled his two fingers out of her pussy, and told her to suck them clean, which she did with gratitude for not being bent forward with her hands behind her back. Nate next told her to get back into the position with her hands grabbing her ankles, and while she rested with her ass in the air, Nate retrieved a butt plug from his side table and lubed it with KY. Then he lubed his right index finger, and brought the slick digit to her pink little rosebud. He easily pushed his finger in, and briefly finger fucked her poop chute until it was well lubricated. He withdrew the finger, and then inserted the large sized butt plug, which slid in effortlessly. 

Nate kneeled between her grasped ankles, and guided his hardened missile to Martha's pussy. It slipped in effortlessly, and Nate began fucking Martha while her hands remained grappled on her ankles. He drove hard, mashing her face into the bed on each thrust. Nate pulled out as the tingle in his loins grew into an urging. He grappled the butt plug, and yanked it unceremoniously from Martha's anus, and before her sphincter had a chance to recoil to its closed position, Nate repositioned his rock hard love machine at the small opening, and easily slipped it all the way in. 

Martha gasped at the anal intrusion. Unlike her daughter, Martha was not an anal virgin. The gasp was more out of surprise than fear or pain, and her gasp quickly turned into light moans of pleasure. Nate sensed her arousal, and began slamming his hips hard into her ass, driving Martha hard into the mattress on each thrust. He drove her forward so hard that Martha lost her grip on her ankles, and she brought her hands beside her and planted them on the bed for support against Nate's vicious pounding. She involuntarily grunted on each stroke as Nate slammed so hard into her ass it compressed her upper body, crushing the air out her lungs with a low, animalistic grunt. 

Martha's tight anal canal did its magic on Nate's throbbing cock, and he quickly felt his balls roiling toward detonation. Martha grunted louder as she felt Nate rising toward climax, and her auditory feedback looped back into the reptilian part of Nate's brain, elevating his climactic arousal even faster. Suddenly his balls burst open, and Nate fired the first of many a jism jets deep into her bowels. He sunk his fingers deep into her hips and rammed his cock in as far as it would go and held it there as his balls pumped jetstream after jetstream of his love nectar into her invaded rectum. 

When at last his convulsive fountain subsided, Nate pulled out, and tenderly caressed Martha's right ass cheek with his hand. Kneeling in place, he ordered Martha to suck him clean, and without protest, she rose up to her knees, turned around, and took his still hardened ramrod into her mouth as deep as she could, pursed her lips tightly around his shaft, and gently drew back, wiping the jism, KY, and her own scent clean off his cock into her mouth. 

Martha pulled away, releasing his shiny clean cock from her mouth. "You didn't tell me you like anal," Nate offered playfully. 

"It's an acquired taste," she said, not realizing the pun she just made. "I hated it at first, but I realized that was more out of shame, because I learned to enjoy the sensation." She paused for a moment. "I do have one request, though." Nate waited. "Never go from anal to pussy."

"No," Nate agreed with a solemn nod, "I would never do that. The last thing I want is to send you home with a nasty infection." 

"Wow," Martha mused quietly. "Most men don't know about that." 

Nate shrugged, and changed subjects. "It has been too long since I had a good run", he changed subjects. "Do you run?"

"Yes," she nodded, "but probably not as fast as you do."

"Come run with me," he prompted, "if you want to – it's not an order. But you will find it makes the jet lag better." 

"I'll slow you down," she cautioned. He said that was okay. "I have to wear jogging clothes," she pointed out, and Nate allowed it. She put on a sports top that doubles as a bra, underpants, and running shorts while Nate pulled on his underwear, shorts, and a T-shirt. They both put on socks and runners. 

He led her out the apartment, and was about to cross the street to the park when she stopped to stretch. He waited while she stretched out her legs, hips, torso, arms, and shoulders. When she was ready, they crossed the road and started up the gentle hill of the park, and turned left on a narrow street until they reached Alter Elbpark, which was a much larger park. They jogged into the park and turned north on a footpath and jogged side-by-side. Martha was right – she jogged more slowly than Nate, but he had insisted she join him, so he paced himself to match her speed. When they reached Millerntordamm Road, Nate checked how Martha was doing – she said great, so they crossed the major boulevard together and continued through the next park.

Normally Nate would run 7 kilometers out and 7 kilometers back in the park alone, and sometimes he added more, but he turned around after only 2 kilometers, not wanting to overtax Martha on her first day out. She stopped for a short rest to watch the swans paddle in a lake, and was ready to resume in two minutes. They ran side-by-side on the trip home as Nate led her through the park trails and streets. They arrived back in his apartment 45 minutes after they started – a slow, short run by Nate's account, but he didn't mind.

Nate offered Martha to shower first while he made coffee on the stovetop espresso maker. When she finished, Martha found fresh towels hanging on the bathroom door. She dried herself and brushed her teeth. Martha padded naked to the bedroom and pulled on some fresh underwear before dressing in her blue skirt again, the only skirt she brought. She knew from Briana that Nate didn't permit bras, so she left those in the suitcase, and pulled a silky white camisole over her head, and fitted a lightweight, pale yellow cardigan sweater over that. 

When she came downstairs, Nate poured her a cup of espresso, and he went upstairs and started the shower for himself while Martha took her coffee and sat down on the sofa. She wished she had her cell phone – she wanted to check Facebook and her email. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Nate subscribed to a satellite news service, and he picked up CNN, BBC, France 24, Al Jazeera, and to her surprise, the Canadian CBC News channel. She watched the news, starting with BBC. The headline was a report of a crash investigation in which a large jet aircraft had caught fire on takeoff at Stanstead Airport two years earlier. The investigation concluded that a faulty part had caused an oil leak in the left engine, which burst into flames at the start of takeoff. The part was analyzed, and the report concluded the manufacturer did not inspect the part properly before shipping it to the airline. No one was killed in the incident, the report noted, but that was only because the part failed on the ground. 

On CNN, a mass shooting had taken place the day before in a Philadelphia train station near city hall. Something called the Broad Street Line. Two gunmen opened fire with semi-automatic weapons, seemingly randomly during the crowded afternoon rush hour, amazingly killing only nine people, including one of the gunmen. An off-duty police woman, who was not in uniform, immediately returned fire, killing one of the gunmen, but was herself shot dead by the other assailant. Witnesses reported the lone police officer also fired upon the second shooter, and investigators found blood in the area the where the second shooter was reported to be standing. The second gunman escaped, and a city-wide manhunt was underway for the presumably injured fugitive. The woman police officer was exalted as a national hero. 

On France 24, a Paris taxi driver was also being heralded as a hero for deliberately swerving his car into the path of an oncoming motorist who had lost control of her vehicle and was headed straight for a crowd of school children. The woman had evidently passed out at the wheel, and the car continued under its own power. The taxi driver explained he put his arms around his head as he braced for a side impact from the out-of-control car. Police had estimated the woman's car had gone for some time after she lost control, and had slowed down considerably, but was still going fast enough to seriously injure or kill the school children. 

The Canadian CBC was reporting on a new study that concluded people who cook with olive oil are no healthier than people who cook with butter. Martha didn't bother with Al Jazeera. 

She found a documentary on SeaWorld, describing the changes the park had implemented since the death of a killer whale trainer. Martha had been to SeaWorld twice when Briana was young. 

Ten minutes later Nate came downstairs in dark casual pants and a button-up short sleeve blue shirt. His hair was still wet. 

"Nate, I really need to use my phone or the Internet," she called to him. "There are people back home who will expect to hear from me."

"Sure," Nate nodded. "Do you have a European roaming plan on your phone?" Martha said no. "You better use my laptop, then, because the data charges will kill you," he offered. "Do you have webmail access?" She nodded. "Come on," he gestured her to follow him into his office.

Nate sat down at his desk, and unlocked the screen on his personal laptop, and brought up the login page. He stood up, and gestured Martha to sit down in his place. Nate pointed out the guest account, and told her the password: 'Tongo25'. He let her log in, and showed her where the Google Chrome internet browser icon was. "You can ask permission to use this any time," he offered. Martha's instinct was to snap back at him sarcastically for treating her like a child, but she bit her tongue and said thanks. 

"You hungry?" Nate asked.

"Staving," Martha replied as she navigated the browser to her webmail site. 

"Don't even touch this laptop," Nate warned, closing the lid to his work laptop. Nate started for the kitchen to make an omelet, but he turned back at the door, remembering something. He picked up a pen and a sticky note from the desk, and wrote down his cell phone number, including all the prefix dialing codes from North America. "This is my cell number," he pointed to the note. "You can tell people to call my number if they need to reach you."

"Okay, thanks," Martha nodded as she was already reading through her emails. 

Nate disappeared through the door and let Martha roam the Internet. The guest account on his personal laptop was severely restricted – Internet browsing the only activity permitted, so Nate was not worried about Martha's prying eyes. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07



In the kitchen he cracked four eggs into a bowl and stirred them thoroughly. Then he grated some Emental cheese, chopped some French onion, and diced a thick slice of ham into small cubes. Nate pulled out his omelet pan, added some butter, and poured in the eggs. He started another coffee on the stovetop maker and put 4 slices of rye bread in the toaster. 

The smell of the cooking omelet brought hunger pangs to Martha. She had sent an email to her sister saying she arrived safely in Hamburg and was staying with a friend. She explained Briana was in police custody, and that Martha was working to get her out, but nothing would happen before Monday. Martha included Nate's phone number in the email, explaining her cell phone didn't work here, and asked her sister to call this phone number only in emergencies. 

Presently Martha was browsing through her Facebook page. She was very careful what she posted on Facebook – in fact she posted very little. She certainly did not mention she was in Europe, or even away from home. 

Martha's stomach started growling, and so she closed the Chrome app and headed for the kitchen. Nate was just plating the omelet and toast as she arrived. "That smells so good," Martha smiled. Nate gestured her to sit down at the square table, and he sat around the corner, next to her.

"This is really good," Martha complimented after two bites of the omelet. 

"Thanks," Nate replied genuinely. 

"What's the spice?"

"Tabasco sauce," he nodded. 

"Really?" she asked with surprise. "I normally can't take Tabasco sauce – it's too hot for me." 

"This is green Tabasco sauce," he explained. "The red one is the spicy one. This one is for taste." Martha nodded as she took another bite of her omelet.

"That was a great run," Martha offered. "Do you do that every day?"

"I alternate between running the gym," Nate explained. "I can take you there tomorrow if you want," he offered.

"I'd really like that," Martha smiled. "It's really hard to stay active when you travel." She paused a moment. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I expect I'll hear from the lawyer first thing in the morning," Nate offered, "and then we go from there." Martha wished for a more concrete plan, but she understood that things take time, and little happens on the weekend.

"Why do you have a box full of guns in your office?" Martha changed subjects as she took a bite out of her toast

"A friend of mine died a couple of months ago," Nate explained. "Brain aneurysm. He went home smiling one day after work, and was dead before supper." Nate paused in reflection of his friend's passing. "Anyway, he left his handgun collection to me. I didn't even know he had a collection, and I can't fathom why he left them to me," he ventured. "And in case you have plans for my early retirement," Nate looked at Martha, "all the firing pins are removed – they don't work." 

"What will you do with them?" she asked out of idle curiosity, ignoring Nate's failed attempt at humor. 

"Don't know," Nate shrugged. "I think some of them have historical significance. I am told two of them were used by actual Nazi SS officers – a Walther P38 and a Luger." Nate thought for a moment. "I was thinking about donating them to a museum in Frederick's name. I'm not much into gun collections." 

"Do you have plans today?" Martha asked.

"I am taking you shopping." 

Martha drew in a deep breath. "So what are we shopping for," Martha asked, knowing the answer. Briana had told her about the hemline mark he made on her leg.

"That's up to you," Nate answered plainly. "I would hope you pick out something elegant and sexy. But you will also need something more practical."

Martha stopped eating and looked at Nate. "So, you are not going to dress me up in cheap, skimpy, teenage clothing and make me run around like a tart the whole time?"

"Well, if that's what your preference," he smiled, "then sure!" She raised her eyebrows at him with a crooked grin. "No," Nate clarified. "You pick the clothing. But I want you to pick something that makes you feel elegant, successful, sexy."

"What kind of budget do you have in mind?" she asked cautiously. "Elegant, successful, and sexy doesn't come cheap."

"I don't want to say price is no object," Nate ventured, "but let's sort that out when we get there."

"Okay Nate," Martha scolded as she put down her fork, "what's going on?" Nate shrugged, as if he didn't understand. "I know you dressed Briana up like a teenage hooker, and I know how little you paid. Now you're offering to let me pick out my dream wardrobe and you'll just smile and pay?"

"Yeah," Nate curled his lower lip outward in reflective thought, "I guess."

"What's the catch?" 

"There's no catch beyond the deal we already have," Nate said. "Well," he backtracked, "okay, there are a few ... restrictions." Martha nodded knowingly waiting for the teenage hooker restrictions to come out. "Skirts and dresses only, and no bras. Other than that," Nate looked upward, searching for anything he might have missed, "it's wide open."

"So I could buy a burlap dress and a nun's habit, and you'd be okay with that?" Martha challenged. 

"Well," Nate processed as he spoke, "if a burlap dress and nun's habit is your idea of elegant, successful, and sexy ... yeah," he shrugged with a sideways cocked head, "I could work with that. Come to think of it," he grinned, "a nun's habit kinda puts you back in the hooker category for some people."

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked with deep skepticism. 

"Are you serious?" he challenged her. She stared at him silently. "You come over here to save the daughter you estranged through tough love. You drop everything and fly over on borrowed money with nothing more than a hope and a prayer. You are on the brink of financial collapse, but you don't let that stop your mission to rescue Briana. And you love her so much that you spread your legs, because that's the only chance you have to get her back. Jesus, Martha!" Nate scolded her earnestly. "You're a fucking saint! Why shouldn't I help you out a little?"

All at once Martha filled with awe, skepticism, love, hate, wonder, and bewilderment. "So you ..." she stopped, her voice cracking with emotion. She started again, "Are you trying to be my slave master or my sugar daddy?" 

"Why can't I be both?" he asked genuinely. She didn't have an answer beyond 'because', which she intuitively sensed was wholly inadequate. 

She stared at him for a long time. "You're a very strange man," she finally said. 

"So I've heard," he answered neutrally. They ate the rest of their meal in silence. 

"Help me clean up," Nate asked as he picked up the plates from the table. 'Cleaning up' was a fairly straight forward task. They put everything back where it belonged, and put the dirty dishes in the sink for his cleaner to take care of. She used the toilet for good measure before a long day of shopping. When she returned, Nate was standing in the middle of the living room.

"Strip," he ordered as she landed at the bottom of the stairs. Martha wasn't aware of any transgressions, but she grew nervous as she pulled her sweater over her head. 

"Did I displease you in any way," she asked as she pulled her camisole over her head, revealing her perfectly cupped tits. 

"I'll let you know," was all he offered. She unzipped her skirt with mounting trepidation, and let it fall to the floor, and then stepped out of it. Finally, she bent over and removed the white socks. 

"Get on your knees," he commanded. Martha lowered herself to a kneeling position. Nate stepped forward until his belt buckle was inches from her lips. "Take it out and suck me," he ordered. Obediently Martha unzipped his black pants, and then undid his belt and his waistband snap, and pulled his pants to his knees. Next she pulled his underpants down, and without hesitation drew his semi-hard cock into her mouth. 

Nate felt himself stiffen inside her mouth as she began sucking earnestly, bobbing her head back and forth. She brought her right hand to assist jerking his shaft. "No," Nate corrected her. "No hands – mouth only." She dropped her hand to her side, and continued sucking hard. Nate felt himself reach full hardness, and he started gently thrusting his pelvis forward and backward, assisting Martha in her sucking motion. He knew a mouth-only blowjob would take a very long time to climax, but that wasn't the point. Nate liked the sensation of a good suck now and then. When he felt satisfied, he withdrew from her mouth. 

"Stand up," he directed, and she did. He kissed her lips, and she returned with an open mouth. He caressed her naked breasts as they remained in a long kiss. Finally he pulled away. "Thank you for that," he spoke softly, and planted a gently, quick kiss on her lips. "You can get dressed now," he allowed. As she picked up her clothing, Nate stowed his package back inside his underpants, and pulled up his jeans and zipped up. In a minute they were fully dressed. She ran upstairs to get her shoes while Nate fished out a large umbrella from the laundry closet.

They walked hand-in-hand to the Baumwall station while Nate carried the umbrella in his other hand. 

It was 1100 by the time they reached the high fashion shopping district in Neustadt. This was not the same neighborhood he took Briana and Pavlina. Nate said they would just look at everything first, take it all in in, and then retrace their steps in a buying spree. Martha started at Hugo Boss, a high-end brand name she recognized. Then they crossed the street to Cos, a store that specialized in more practical women's fashions, including sensible shoes. From there they walked two blocks west to Rene Lezard. Even though she wasn't paying, Martha gulped at the prices in this store. A dress she only just liked cost 1,800 Euros, or nearly $2,000. Other ones she loved were five times more expensive. Further down the road they found Karen Millen, a store specializing in high fashion leather. 

That was the end of the line. At 1400 they walked to a Starbucks, only half a block north of Karen Millen for a break and to review their reconnaissance mission. Martha really liked some of the leather fashions. She brought up the 1,800 Euro dress at Rene Lezard. Nate had to admit that was beyond his budget, as much as he would have liked to buy that for her. 

They finished their coffee and then returned to Karen Millen, where Martha purchased, or rather, Nate purchased for Martha, a black leather skirt and matching vest. Although Nate had not imposed a hemline restriction, he was pleased Martha selected a shorter (although by no means the shortest) skirt. 

When they came out of Karen Millen, it started raining. Nate opened his umbrella and they walked close together under the canopy. They bypassed Rene Lezard altogether, as Martha considered it ridiculously expensive, even if she wasn't paying. Instead they walked to Coast, where Martha bought a pale blue short-sleeve blouse and a mid-sleeved dark grey knee-length dress with pockets. She spied a pure black tank top that she selected to wear under her black leather vest. Nate bought for her a spandex-like, white, sleeveless body top that clung to the mannequin like paint, and he hoped it would do the same for Martha.

After Nate purchased the Coast clothing, Martha went back to the change room and put on her grey dress. With the rain outside, she felt it would keep her warm. It was raining harder when they walked under the umbrella to Cos, where she bought a pair of plain black shoes, a white denim jacket, a dark red skirt, and a thin belt. They had paid, and they were about to leave, when a black jacket with faint, thin white stripes caught Martha's eye. She tried it on, and Nate had to admit it looked perfect over her grey dress, so he paid for that too. She left it on, and wore it out of the store. 

The rain had let up a bit when they crossed the street to Hugo Boss. Martha bought a long, backless black dress. Nate had to admit she looked stunning in it when she tried it on. The rain picked up again when they walked down the street to a jewelry store, and Martha picked out two pairs of earrings and a silver pendant to hang around her neck.

It was nearly 1800 – an amazing shopping accomplishment in just seven hours. Nate left Martha in the jewelry store while he stepped under the umbrella and hailed a cab. The driver helped them load the parcels into the trunk. Nate took the back right seat, and invited Martha to sit beside him in the middle. They buckled in as the Mercedes pulled away. Nate turned to Martha and kissed her on her willing open mouth. She teased his tongue, and he replied by slipping his right hand between her legs and slid his outstretched fingers northward up her dress until he reached the bare skin of her pussy. Martha parted her legs slightly and moaned imperceptibly as Nate tickled his finger directly over her clitoris. If the taxi driver noticed their frisky mischief, he didn't let on. 

As they pulled apart, Nate withdrew his hand from under her dress. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Do you really think I am a saint, or am I just stupid?" she asked in a hushed voice. 

"Definitely not stupid," Nate affirmed quickly. "Crazy maybe, but not stupid." 

She smiled inwardly at the casual way he answered. "How much did you spend on me today?" she asked after a long pause. 

Nate was conflicted in telling her. On one hand, he knew it would boost her ego, which was a small part of the reason he took her shopping. On the other hand, he didn't want her to think this would become a regular occurrence. "Well over a thousand Euros," he said, adding it up in his head. "Nearly two," he realized. "Seeing you in that long black dress was worth every cent." Martha smiled and kissed his cheek gently. "But that's the budget – we're done shopping," he said not so subtly. 

"Works for me," she sighed with her head still on his shoulder. 

By the time they arrived at the apartment building, the rain was falling lightly. Nate paid the cab driver, and together they grabbed all the bags out of the trunk and ran for the front door. Nate swiped his wallet against the sensor, and punched in the security code, and held the door open for Martha. He followed her up the stairs. Her dress did not offer a particularly erotic up-the-skirt view, nevertheless Nate realized her supple legs, while not skinny-bitch matchsticks, were firm and trim – the kind of legs any 32-year-old woman would be proud to flaunt. Once in the apartment, they dumped their parcels on the coffee table. 

Nate poured out some wine, and handed a glass to Martha. "You read my mind," she smiled as she took off her jacket. 

"I'll start dinner," Nate offered, "and you put on a fashion show." Nate retreated to the kitchen while Martha gathered all the new purchases and disappeared into the bathroom across from his office. He pulled two chicken breasts out of the fridge and seasoned them with his own concoction of herbs and spices. He started pouring some rice into a Pyrex bowl when Martha appeared in her first catwalk outfit. She wore the dark red skirt with the pale blue blouse and the white denim jacket. The blue/red/white ensemble looked both French-chic and comfortable. The skirt hem line rested just above her knees, offering a more mature look. Martha twirled around, showing off the outfit to Nate's approval, and then she trotted back to the bathroom for the next wardrobe change. 

Nate mixed some chicken broth into the rice and pulled out a salad-in-a-bag from the fridge. He had just opened the bag when Martha returned for her next catwalk. This time she wore the black leather skirt with the white sleeveless spandex tank top and the black vest overtop. The white tank top created a layered texture above the vest, which allowed her to leave the top button of the vest undone, creating an attractively seductive cleavage appeal without actually revealing anything. Martha twirled with a smile and then skipped back to the bathroom. 

Nate mixed the salad dressing in, and placed the chicken breasts on a greased baking rack, and then slid the rack into the preheated oven. He put the rice/broth mixture in the microwave oven and fired it up just in time for Martha to return in her dark grey dress, without the jacket. But this time she left the white body-tight tank top underneath the dress, and again opened a few buttons at the top of the dress, creating a plunging neckline look without being immodest. It was a very casual, well put together look. 

Finished with his food preparation duties, Nate set the table. He was cutting a loaf of French bread into slices when Martha returned with the backless black dress. The dress had black lace overtop a black lining, creating a contoured fabric effect. The lace on the two vertical shoulder straps on the back of the dress had no backing, offering a see-through view of her back. The straps converged to a V three quarters down her back where the underlining took over, protecting her modesty below. The lining ended quite high on her upper thighs, but the lace continued lower, creating an eye-catching tiered effect that showed off her attractive legs. 

The lace on the front of the dress was high around the neck, but the solid backing's neckline plunged to the bottom of her bust line. The lace overtop kept the underlying fabric from shifting or pulling away, creating a sensually attractive cleavage without being immodest. Nate noticed she was wearing the black shoes she bought today. "Wow!" he whistled softly. "You're a supermodel." Martha smiled brightly at his compliment. 

"I'm pretty sure this is elegant, successful, and sexy," Martha beamed. 

"And then some," Nate nodded assuredly. "Tomorrow I'm going to take you out in that dress," he promised. 

She turned toward the bathroom, and stopped. "What should I wear for dinner tonight?"

Nate thought a moment. "The black leather skirt and the white tank top." Martha raised her eyebrows in silent judgment, and then retreated to the bathroom. Nate checked on dinner – nothing had burned to a miserable crisp yet, so things were still on track. 

Martha returned wearing her black leather skirt and the sleeveless spandex tank top. The fabric was quite thin, and as Nate hoped, clung to her skin like a coat of paint. Nate could see perfectly the precise contours of breasts, including the raised profile of her nipples. "I'm actually glad you bought this," Martha said, picking up her glass of wine. "It must have silk woven into it, or something, because it feels so nice against my skin. I can wear it under anything."

"Hmmm," Nate considered. "Let's see." He walked to Martha, and cupped his right hand over the perfect shape of her left breast, and began fondling it fully. "Oh yes," he nodded with a sly smile, "I see what you mean." Martha rolled her eyes. "Do I sense attitude?" Nate asked with a sharp tone. 

"Only this," she replied quickly, and reached her hand around his neck, and pulled him down as she reached up to kiss Nate lovingly on his mouth. He moved his hand to her left tit and caressed it roughly as she darted her tongue in and out of his mouth. Nate pinched her left nipple smartly through the thin fabric, eliciting a muffled squeal from Martha, but she didn't break off her kiss. He cupped his palm around the mound of her left breast again, and rubbed it heavily in circles. 

Finally Nate pulled away, breaking off the kiss. "Nice save," he complimented, "but next time I won't be so forgiving," and he pinched her left nipple really hard.

"Owwww!" Her eyes welled up with pain. 

"Consider that a warning," Nate offered, and looked her hard in the eyes. 

Martha knew she was missing something, and then remembered. "Thank you for showing me the wickedness of my ways," she forced an uneven smile. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07



Nate returned to the kitchen to check on supper. The thermometer probe showed 80, which was perfect for chicken in Celsius. The rice needed another few minutes, so he restarted the microwave and then pulled the chicken out of the oven. 

While the rice cooked, Nate plated the chicken and scrubbed the baking rack in the sink. That was the one request of his cleaning lady – to please not leave the baking rack to cool and harden its cooked residue on the metal. Evidently it takes a long time for her to clean properly, whereas it takes Nate half a minute to scrub the worst of it off while it is still hot. 

Nate refilled their wine glasses, and then the microwave oven dinged again. The rice was ready, so he plated that beside the chicken, and brought the plates to the table. The salad was already in a bowl on the table, as was the cut French bread. 

Nate invited Martha to sit at her designated seat, and he sat at the chair closest to the kitchen, adjacent to Martha. He bowed his head for a silent moment, and then picked up his knife and fork. 

"Was that a private grace?" Martha asked. "I noticed you did that last night, at the restaurant."

"Something like that," Nate offered casually. "I am not really religious. I guess I am not even spiritual, at least not in a God way," Nate explained. "But I do believe in respecting those that made sacrifices for me. So I was thanking the chicken for giving its life so that I may eat."

"That's interesting," Martha offered honestly. "What do you say – I mean what are the words you hear in your head?"

"Thank you chicken," Nate said without sarcasm. 

Martha looked at her plate. "Thank you chicken," she said out loud. 

Nate offered the salad to Martha, and she used the wooden salad forks to serve some onto her plate. Next he passed her the bread and butter, and she took some of each. "Thank you," she reflected on his polite hosting.

"Bon appetite," he gestured toward her, and then he served his own salad, bread, and butter. 

"Just to be clear, I am not complaining," Martha asked as they ate their meal together. "I am curious. Why are you so strict and hard on me?"

"People do not have enough respect," Nate opined without delay. "When you give yourself to someone, as you have done so to me, you must respect me, as I respect you."

"How do you respect me?" she asked. She thought it was a legitimate question.

"There are boundaries I do not cross – ever," Nate observed. "Such as going from ass to pussy, as you pointed out last night." He paused as he took another bite of chicken and chewed. "I would never do anything to hurt or discredit you," he explained further. "For example," he offered, "when I take pictures of you, I will apply safeguards to ensure those pictures are never released without your permission."

"You're going to take pictures of me?" Martha asked, realizing a whole new realm of concerns.

"And you will not say 'no'," he replied without hesitation. "But as I said, I will safeguard them from release."

"Have you taken pictures of Briana?" she asked. 

"Yes," Nate nodded, "lots. And videos too."

"I may see them, then?" Martha semi-demanded. 

"No," Nate refuted. "For the same reason, I cannot show them to you. If Briana gives me permission, then I will." Then he thought again. "Actually, Pavlina is in some of them, so I could not show you those ones."

"And what happens if they are accidentally released – anything could happen."

"All the files – in fact the entire hard drive – is encrypted using a virtually unbreakable cypher," Nate assured her. "If it were somehow to fall into the wrong hands, they wouldn't even know what files they were in possession of." Nate paused for a moment. "That's what I mean by respecting you – I take precautions to protect you even when accidents happen."

"With all due respect," Martha countered, "I don't feel respected when I am told to grab my ankles while you fuck me up the ass."

"But don't you see, I do respect you," Nate argued. "Yesterday you assured me your ass was mine for my recreation and pleasure. I respect that." Nate continued before Martha could reply. "When I took you out shopping today, I respected your fashion sense. Not once did I even hint – as you did with your rolled eyes before dinner – that I disapproved of your choices."

Martha paused in reflection of the day's shopping. "You need to understand something," Nate explained. He waited for Martha to ask what. "In this relationship, you are in control."

"How do you figure that?" she asked incredulously. 

"You can say 'no' at any time. You have the power. The instant you say no, we're done – I will give you back your purse and your money, and you will be on your way with my blessing. Hell, you can even keep the clothing. Nothing I ever did or said forced you into this arrangement, and nothing I say or do can force you to stay in this arrangement. You are totally and completely in control, and I respect that."

"But you have the power," Martha pointed out sharply. 

"I never took any power away from you," Nate clarified. "You gave me that power to hold over you. Maybe, in your mind, you had no choice, but that is not my fault. You gave me the power, and you can take it back any time. I never took anything away from you. I never forced you do to anything that you did not agree to in advance. I respect that, and you know it." Nate pressed forward. "You would never enter into this arrangement with me if you didn't trust me to honor my obligations. You know I will come through with the money, with the lawyers, with sharing my apartment, my food, with buying you clothing, and with everything else. You and Briana know I have too much respect to do anything other than to keep the promises I made to you."

Martha fell silent for a long time. "I never saw it that way," she finally admitted. 

"I expect of you," Nate pointed out, "to give me the same respect I give you. When you promise to do everything I ask, and then you roll your eyes with disdain, you are being disrespectful to me, and in the end, to yourself." He paused, letting that sink in. "So when I correct your wicked ways, I am correcting your disrespect."

Martha remained silent. She had no words. It had never occurred to her that she was the one in charge, and she was disrespecting Nate. She always viewed the power relationship as Nate doing whatever he wanted, and she was the victim who had to bend over and take it - literally. Never in a million years did she consider Nate as the victim of her disrespect. 

"Think of it in another way," Nate ventured. "Supposing, for each time you disrespect me, I retaliated by disrespecting you." He paused. "For example, suppose every time you roll your eyes or criticize my choices, I retaliate by deducting a thousand Euro from my obligation." Martha's eyes opened wide at the catastrophic outcome that possibility entailed. "Where would that leave us?"

"Nowhere," Martha answered dejectedly. 

"Exactly," Nate confirmed. "You wouldn't get what you need, and I wouldn't get what I need, and we'd both feel cheated out of something. We would both be worse off than if we had never agreed to anything." Nate waited, letting that sink in. "So when you disrespect me – when you fail to live up to your promises – would you prefer that I correct your behavior, the way I do now, or would you prefer that I disrespect you in retaliation by deducting a penalty from the money I promised you and Briana?"

Martha didn't offer an opinion either way. "I want an answer," Nate ordered after five silent seconds. 

"I guess ..." Martha faded off. "I mean ..." she faltered again. "Fuck!" she yelled, realizing how hopelessly trapped she'd fallen into his logic. "Okay," Martha finally allowed, "if those are my only choices, I guess I would rather you correct my wicked ways instead of deducting a thousand Euros for every mistake I make."

"And so would I," Nate agreed, "because the alternatives give us both less than nothing."

"So where do we go from here?" Briana asked after a long moment of reflection.

"You need to ask yourself two questions," Nate announced. "First, are you still committed to getting Briana home this way?" Nate held up his index finger. "And second, if so, do you want to do it the easy way or the hard way?" He held up a second finger. 

"The easy way would be?" Martha asked. She was pretty sure she knew his answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"You do what I want, when I want, the way I want, and you laugh, smile, and adore me."

It sure didn't sound easy to her, but having had a taste of the hard way, Martha was beginning to realize complying to Nate's orders was certainly the less stressful option. 

"Take tonight to think about it," Nate offered, "and tell me in the morning what you decide."

"I don't need to think about it," Martha announced without a pause. "This is the only chance I have to help Briana. And you're right. It is my choice to do this – you are not forcing me to do anything. And like you say, I guess the easy way is better."

"Just to be clear," Nate confirmed, "do you now pledge you will do what I want, when I want, the way I want, without hesitation or attitude, and you laugh, smile, and adore me?"

"Just to be clear," Martha countered, "do you now pledge to pay the 5,000 Euro AeB fee, the 20,000 Euro AeB bond, whatever the London School fee is, the lawyers' fees, and Briana's flight, and will you house us, clothe us, feed us, protect us, and do everything you can to make sure Briana returns home safely as soon as possible?" 

"Providing that you and Briana honor your agreements, yes," Nate assured her with a nod.

"Then, yes," Martha declared, and held out her hand to Nate. Nate shook her hand to seal the agreement. 

Martha thought for a long time. "You know you're full of shit." There. She finally said it. "And I mean that in the most respectful way," she qualified. 

"How so," Nate asked neutrally.

"Here you go on about me and respect, and how I have to respect you and myself, but we both know you forced Briana to have sex with you," Martha scorned Nate bitterly. "I don't mean physically, but you used her AeB to blackmail her, to force her to have all kinds of sex against her will." She balled up her fists and her face went red. "You raped my daughter" she seethed, "so fuck your respect!"

"Is that what she told you?" Nate asked. Martha studied Nate's face for a long time. 

"I have to believe what she tells me," Martha defended. 

Without another word, Nate pulled out his cell phone, and pressed a few screen buttons until he had the sound recording app. He set the phone down on the table, and played the entire recording he made when he and Briana were on the balcony. The sound quality was poor, and there were a lot of background noises, but the words were unmistakably clear. Nate studied Martha's face the whole time.

Things got interesting when they could hear Briana's voice say "ever wonder what could have happened to us if you hadn't stopped me from fucking your brains out that night? Now's your chance to find out." Martha lifted her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew deep with conflicted emotions.

"Are you offering" Nate's voice said from the cell phone. "Sure" Briana's voice replied, and Martha barked out a little cry through her hand.

But the icing on the cake came later when Briana's voice said "How about this. You do all those things, buy me clothes, and I will be your sex kitten – whatever you want, when you want. Kissing, fingering, fucking and sucking for six days straight."

"Please stop it," Martha cried. Nate pressed the pause button on the screen.

"Martha," Nate said softly, "Briana lies. She lies to you, she lies to me, she lied to Pavlina, and she is probably lying to the police right now."

"I don't believe this," Martha rested her forehead in her hand. "I fly four thousand miles to save her, and she lies to my face." She looked at Nate. "I don't know what to do."

"She lies to you because she doesn't respect you."

"She lied to you," Martha snapped back.

"Right," Nate nodded, "and look where she is." Nate paused. "I didn't rush to her rescue after what she did."

"So," Martha shook her head in confusion, "you think I am, what ... stupid?"

"No," Nate shook his head softly. He took her hand in his and rested it on the table between them. He looked into her swollen eyes. "You are a kind, supportive, loving parent. And Briana is exploiting that." 

"So what do I do?" 

"I'm going to tell you what you already know," Nate warned. Martha stayed silent. "You have to stop treating her like a child, and demand she act like the adult she is. And you have to stop doting on her like you are a smothering mother. As long as you infantilize her, you are disrespecting her and yourself. You must learn to respect yourself," Nate continued. Martha understood the words, but the hidden meaning escaped her. "When you learn to respect yourself, Briana stop using you," Nate assured her, or Briana will avoid you, he didn't say.

"So let me get this straight," Martha took her hand away. "You are going to use me in every way possible so I can learn to respect myself?"

"Do you know how to respect works?" Nate asked. "It is not a trick question, but the answer is deceptively simple." 

"I'm sure you're about to tell me," Martha offered glibly. 

"Respect boils down to this. Do what you say you promise, and promise only what will do." Nate paused. "That's respect. It can be about giving your body, about doing your job, about raising your child, about money, about anything. The point is," Nate said, "respect comes from keeping your promises, and making only those promises you can keep. Period."

Martha stayed silent, so Nate pressed on. "So when you say you will do anything for me, then do it. Only make the promises you will keep, and don't make the promise if you can't keep it. That's respect."

"Okay, if you say so" nodded Martha uncertainly. 

"If you tell Briana no more money, then there's no more money. When you come charging over here, you need to understand you are breaking a promise, and someone like Briana knows how to exploit your well-intended lack of respect. She manipulates the situation to serve her own purposes."

"So," Martha ventured, "that is why you rented that hotel room – to keep Briana safe after they tried to rape her and when you killed that guy in the street?"

"I made a promise," Nate explained. "In order to keep that promise, I hired two lawyers, paid for a hotel, and I'm not sure what else. And when Pavlina broke her promise, it hurt all of us."

"So you want me to only make promises I am certain I can keep."

"Only if you want people like Briana to respect you."

"So you are correcting my wicked ways, as you put it, so make sure I live up to my promise to you, and earn your respect?" Martha concluded. 

"And to show you how amazingly difficult it is to do something that sounds so easy." Nate continued. "Doing what you promise and promising only what you can do is much harder than it sounds, as you are now learning."

Martha fell silent for a long time. "What do we do now, then?" 

"Strip," Nate ordered. Martha shook her head for a moment, not in defiance, but at the suddenness of the change of conversation. I suppose, she thought, he will test me early. She stood up from the table. It did not take long for her to pull the white silk/spandex top over her head and unzip her leather skirt. In seconds she stood naked before Nate.

Nate stood up from his chair and went to the center of the living room. "Come here and stand for inspection," he ordered, and Martha obediently padded over, and stood naked with her hands behind her head and her feet set wide apart. "We're going to go over some ground rules," Nate explained. "As part of your pledge to do what I want, you will follow these rules always. Do you understand?" Martha nodded her understanding. 

"Use your words," Nate chastised. 

"Yes," Martha declared with a hint of defensiveness, "I understand."

"Good. Rule One. You will never be punished or disciplined for not understanding something, or for asking for clarification. If you do not understand something, you must ask for clarification. But," Nate emphasized the word 'but', "if you proceed with something without understanding it completely, and you did not ask for adequate clarification, you will be disciplined. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Martha nodded.

"Rule two. Except when I kiss you, whenever I touch something to your mouth – it might be my finger, it might be something else – you will stop what you're doing, take it into your mouth and you will suck on it until I pull it out. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Martha nodded.

"Rule three. When I kiss you, you will stop what you're doing, close your eyes and kiss me with an open mouth and behave like you really adore me. You will continue to kiss me until I break off the kiss. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Martha nodded again.

"Rule four. Whenever I touch anything between your legs – it might be my finger, it might be something else – you will stop what you are doing, carefully put down anything you might be carrying, and spread your legs wide, and let me play, and you will keep your legs wide apart until I am done. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she acknowledged.

"Rule five. You will have any kind of sex that I tell you to have, in any way, and you will actively participate as I tell you to. That includes oral, vaginal, and anal. Do you understand?"

Martha paused in silence a moment. "I have a few questions for understanding," she noted, still standing naked in the inspection pose. 

"Go ahead," Nate offered. 

"May we agree that I will have sex with you alone, and no one else?"

"I will agree that your sex will be confined to me and Briana." 

Martha paused in thought a moment. "Does that mean you will ask me to have sex with Briana while you watch?"

"Yes," Nate nodded, "or we might have a three-way." Martha thought about the years of therapy to come. 

"And also," Martha continued, "can we agree, like I think you already have, than any pictures or videos you take of me or Briana being nude or having sex will never, ever be shown to anyone else, and never ever, ever put on the Internet?"

"Yes, I promise that," Nate declared. 

"And also," Martha said again, "do you promise that you will never do anything that would injure us or make us sick?"

"I promise that too," Nate added. 

"Okay, then," Martha nodded. "I agree."

"Rule six," Nate continued. "You will never wear a bra. You do not wear underpants while in this apartment. Otherwise, you can wear what you want among the clothing I bought you, unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Rule seven. You will accept and thank me for any discipline or punishment I deem necessary, even if you disagree with my reasons or method of discipline. Do you understand?"

"Well, you have already said you will not injure us or make us sick, so yes, I understand."

"Last rule, for now," Nate offered. "When Briana gets here, you will be responsible for her actions. You must teach her all these same rules. If she disobeys me, or does something to displease me, I will discipline you, as well as her. Do you understand?"

Martha closed her eyes blew out a long breath. She knew Briana had already entered into her own agreement with Nate, but now she was responsible for enforcing a contract for Briana's behavior. She wanted to protest, but she had no leverage. "I understand," she said quietly, "but I am worried I will disappoint you."

"You will do better than you think," Nate assured her. "I will help you." He paused for a moment. "Do you have any more questions?" She shook her head no. "Use your words," he admonished. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 08



The Zoo Keeper

Martha startled awake in the morning to the sight of Nate, standing naked beside the bed, holding a plate with four croissants in one hand and his fingers wrapped around the handles of two mugs of coffee in the other. She was mildly disoriented by her still unfamiliar surroundings, and completely unnerved by Nate's unapologetic nakedness. 

"Good morning," he called gently. "I brought us some breakfast and coffee." He set the plate and mugs down on the night table beside the bed. 

"And in such good form, too," she jutted her chin to his all-natural look. 

"I just had my shower," he explained. "It's time for you to wake up, have some breakfast, and have your shower."

"What time is it?" she asked, looking around the room for a clock.

"Seven thirty," he responded. 

"You're awful chipper for a Sunday morning," she observed skeptically.

"And let's keep it that way," he warned. "Breakfast, coffee, shower." Now the full magnitude of her charge came back to her. Briana sat up half way, and reached for a croissant. He had already cut it into two halves, buttered it and added jam, and closed it back up again. She took a bite.

"This is delicious," she admired after the first taste. 

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Like a baby," she nodded. She looked up at him. "I never thanked you for saving Briana's life."

Nate nodded, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, and reached for a croissant in one hand and a coffee in the other. "She was my responsibility," Nate explained, and took a bite of his croissant. They ate in awkward silence. It was hard to segue from there to anything. 

Martha sat up some more, and the duvet fell away from her chest, revealing her perfectly sculpted tits. She instinctively reached for the blanket and covered herself up, and then felt silly at the futility of it. Nate didn't seem to notice. 

"Are we still going to the zoo today?" Martha asked, as she reached for her mug of coffee. 

"Yup," Nate nodded, "and the aquarium and the botanical gardens."

"Busy day," Martha commentated. 

"That's the point," Nate offered.

Martha took a sip of coffee, and stared at it for a long time. Finally she asked what was on her mind. "How can you be such a gentleman one moment, and then a total control freak the next?"

"Excellent training," Nate replied without hesitation. "A good soldier has to be polite, helpful, even charming to the native people – especially to the women and children whose husbands might be engaged in some form of combat – it's called winning the hearts and minds, and then in the next moment the same soldier might cut down a squad of rebel fighters." 

"So that's what you do?" Martha asked. "You win the hearts and minds of your lady friends, and then cut down their resistance?"

"No," Nate responded defensively. "The two situations are not comparable. I was merely pointing out that I had extensive training that allows me to switch between a gentlemen and a control freak, as you put it, within the same environment."

"You can be quite charming when you put your mind to it. The power trip part kinda gets in the way, though," Martha opined. "It's a bit of turn-off. You might want to work on that."

"You say that now, and yet it was the power trip part of me that you only sort-of thanked just a moment ago. Trust me," Nate assured her with authoritative annoyance, "charm had nothing to do with saving your daughter from a savage rape and murder." Martha realized her mistake in voicing her unfair judgment. She wanted to apologize, but the damage was done. "And now it is time for your shower," Nate ordered as to took the remaining croissant and unfinished coffee out of her hands.

Martha pulled the covers back, and stepped out of bed without saying another word. As she padded naked to the bathroom, Martha privately scolded herself for being so judgmental and stupid. He could have punished her for that remark, and might still.

She pushed the bathroom door closed, but Nate had followed her and blocked it with his foot. He pushed it back open, gently, to not bang to door into her. "New rule," Nate announced, standing naked in the doorway. "From now on, whenever you go into this bathroom of the downstairs bathroom, for any reason, you leave the door wide open. There will be no privacy for you. Do you understand?"

Martha's shoulders sank, and she inwardly berated herself for her remark. "I understand," she said sullenly. She sat on the toilet after Nate walked away, and she was certain he could hear the tinkle of her urine splashing in the bowl. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she whispered to herself. 

She was just wiping herself clean when the still naked Nate returned to the bathroom, startling her. He was holding the enema kit he used on her the day before. "Also, every morning, starting right now, you will administer your own enema. Fill this with warm water – body temperature – and add two small spoons of salt, and in it goes. Every morning. And clean up the kit each time you use it. Do you understand?" he asked, handing the enema kit to her. 

"I understand," she said she acknowledged, and took the enema kit while still seated on the toilet. 

"Be back in the bedroom in 20 minutes after your enema and shower," he ordered as left the bathroom.

"Fuck!" Martha breathed to herself when she thought he was out of earshot. She was really angry at herself for being so careless and impulsive. He had even warned her – 'let's keep it that way' he said. "Fuck!" she said again.

She stood up and padded naked down the stairs to the kitchen. She found the salt, added two spoonful's to the water bottle, and then filled it with lukewarm water. Back upstairs, Martha found some KY in the medicine cabinet, and lubricated the enema probe. She sat with her thighs resting on the cold edge of the bathtub, letting her ass hang over the center of the tub. She bent forward at the hips, and then Martha reached behind herself and inserted the probe up her chute. She released the stopper, letting the warm liquid flow through the tube into her rectum. She stood only long enough to hang the bag from the top of the glass shower door, and then Martha sat down again on the edge of the bathtub and waited for gravity to fill her bowels. When the bag was empty, Martha pulled the probe out her ass, and sat on the toilet, and relaxed her anal sphincter to a cacophony of biological trumpeting that boomed out the open door and down the hallway, surely announcing her bowel movement to Nate, wherever he might be. She cringed at the noise. 

To save time, Martha brought the enema kit with her into the tub, and washed it while she showered. She finished the shower, dried off, and carried the clean kit back to the bedroom, where Nate was waiting naked on the bed. "Put the kit on the table here," he pointed to where the croissants and coffee used to be," and come join me. She climbed onto the bed naked and sat beside him. Nate had arranged an assortment of dildos, plugs, and some lube on the bed beside him. 

"I am sorry I made that comment about you being charming and your power trip," Martha apologized, trying not to stare at the sex toys. "It was wrong of me to say that, and I regret it. I thank you for you correcting me in my wicked ways."

Nate leaned into her and kissed her gently on the lips, and she kissed him back. He pulled away. "You are learning how to respect other people," Nate complimented her. "You are still making mistakes, and you will continue to learn from them, but you are improving."

"Thank you," she nodded. 

"So now," Nate explained, "I want you to climb on top of me, end-for-end, and give me a blowjob in the 69 position while I play with your pussy," he explained has he patted the dildos. He scooched down and lay on his back in the middle of the bed, giving Martha room to straddle her knees over his face, and bent forward to bring her face to his cock. "Spread your knees wide apart and lower your pussy on to my face," Nate ordered, and Martha's flexibility easily allowed her to comply with his demand. Even so, Nate reached for a pillow and propped his head up, giving his mouth easier access to her pussy. 

He was already semi-rigid when she climbed on top, and when Martha took him into her mouth, she felt him harden quickly. Martha started bobbing her head up and down, sliding her pursed lips along his stiffened shaft. Nate reached for his toys on the bed beside him, and feeling with his hand, identified the dildo he was looking for and the tube of KY. As Martha continued sucking him, Nate lightly lubed the dildo, and then positioned it against Martha's split pussy. He easily slid it up her fuck hole. Nate began pumping the dildo all the way in and out in rhythm to the head bobbing Martha performed on his rock hard cock. The close-up visual of the dildo disappearing deep into her pussy combined with the sensation of her warm mouth sucking his cock were conspiring to stir his balls. 

Nate felt his arousal levels rise, and decided it was time to add to the visual effects. He continued pumping the dildo in and out of her pussy with his left hand while he felt for another dildo with his right hand. He needed both hands to apply a generous layer of lube, so he shoved the first dildo deep in her pussy and left it there. He used both hands to slick the second dildo thoroughly. Nate positioned the new dildo against Martha's puckered rosebud, and pushed the well lubricated dildo inward. Martha gasped as she felt it go up her ass, and in seconds Nate was pumping two dildos in and out of Martha's holes while she resumed sucking hard on his stiff member. 

Nate used two hands to alternately fuck the dildos up Martha's orifices, shoving one in while pulling the other out in a see-saw style. He was enjoying the close-up view of the tandem dildo fucking while Martha was closing in on his climactic eruption. Martha started jerking Nate's shank with her right hand while she continued sucking on the tip of his cock, sending Nate's balls into overdrive. He knew the end was near. "Swallow it all," he called out as he felt the first stage of eruption read to fire in its chamber. As Nate passed the point of no return, he shoved both dildos deep into Martha, and she gasped again at this double invasion, but her lips quickly regained their seal around his member, and sucked him hard across the finish line. 

Nate burst into Martha's mouth as she continued sucking. She easily swallowed the first salvo, and then the next, and the next, until he ran dry, and his orgasmic convulsions faded into a blissful afterglow. 

Nate lay still for a few minutes, leaving the two dildos deep up Martha's twat and asshole. She started to step off him, but he held her tight, and she stayed put over top of him. He let the post-orgasmic wave wash over him like a mellow high, until finally he pulled the two dildos out of Martha and pressed gently on the side of her hip, gesturing her to dismount. Nate sat up, and took the first dildo – the pussy dildo – and touched it to her lips. Martha obediently opened her mouth and she sucked on the dildo as Nate slowly fucked it in and out of her gently sealed lips. With that dildo clean, he brought the anal dildo to her mouth, and she sucked that one in too, and she was surprised how little foul taste there was. She then realized the benefit of an enema and shower first thing in the morning. 

Nate lay Martha down on her back and gently circled his index finger around her left nipple, then her right. He reached forward, and kissed her on the lips, and she returned the kiss for a long time. Nate pulled away. "Time to get dressed," he said. 

Martha wanted to shower again, with all the lube in her pussy and poop chute, but Nate did not allow it, so she sat on the toilet and cleaned herself with toilet paper. He gathered his sex toys and took them to the bathroom, interrupting Martha's privacy, and he soaked them in hot, soapy water and then rinsed and dried them before sterilizing them with alcohol. He left the bathroom and put them away in the drawer beside his bed. He also put the enema kit away in the hallway closet. 

Martha flushed and washed her hands. Then she went to the bedroom and wore the dark red skirt she purchased the day before, and pulled the white spandex top he bought her over her head. She topped it off with the white denim jacket she picked out the day before. "I have a question," Martha asked. Nate said go ahead. "When am I allowed to put on my underpants when I prepare to go out?"

"At the door, just before you leave the apartment," Nate ruled. "And take them off at the door, just after you come in," he added. She picked up a pair of undies and balled them in her hand. She went to the bathroom and applied her makeup, which took less than five minutes. Her naturally radiant beauty didn't need any help, but she applied some eye shadow and lipstick for good measure.

Nate pulled on some underpants, his black pants again, and a button-up short sleeve shirt. He pulled on a sports jacket, and found a thin black nylon wind breaker that he crumpled up and shoved into the pocket of his sports jacket. The extra jacket was for Martha, in case she got too cold. They both put on their shoes, and were soon walking down stairs, with Nate chivalrously gesturing Martha to go first. Nate retrieved his camera from his office, and they were ready to go. At the front door, Nate kissed Martha, and she closed her eyes and returned his kiss. He let his right hand slip down her skirt, and he hiked up the hem while they continued kissing, and then Nate slipped his hand inside and found her bald pussy. Martha obediently spread her legs wide, and Nate massaged her lovely folds while she continued kissing him. At last he broke off the kiss. Martha took the opportunity to slip her underpants on over her shoes, and hoisted them up underneath her pulled-up skirt, and then pressed her skirt back down her legs. Nate opened the door, and they were on their way to the zoo.

They walked seven minutes hand-in-hand to the Landungsbrucken subway station, and took the northbound train to the Schlump station, where they changed trains to another northbound line to the Hagenbecks Tierpark station, right beside the zoo. They sat in seats beside each other and held hands. Martha asked if Nate had a car. He explained he did – it was parked in the underground garage of the apartment building – but he seldom used it. Hamburg is such an easy city to get around by subway, and while driving is not at all difficult in Hamburg, he finds the transit system just as fast and convenient. He also noted Germany is a much greener society than North America, and there is a greater expectation for people to public transit when they can. 

He sometimes travels to Berlin, or more recently to Lubeck, and on those trips he drives. He said if they had more time, he would take Martha to Rugen on the Baltic Sea. It is a small island, part of Germany, with upscale villas, condos, shops, and restaurants. He said it is like the Riviera of the Baltic Sea. She said she would like that. 

Martha asked if it was true there are no speed limits in Germany. Nate explained almost all roads in Germany have speed limits, and they are rigorously enforced. But there are designated stretches of the autobahn – the German equivalent of the US Interstate highways – that have no speed limits, and it is not uncommon to find cars driving faster than 250 Kph, or 150 Mph. She asked Nate the fastest he ever drove. He explained he drove from Cologne to Duseldorf once in 23 minutes – he reached 280 Kph on the Autobahn. 

They chit-chatted about Germany, about Nate's job, and his kids. Martha led the conversation through questions. They arrived at the zoo just before 10. There was still a light chill in the air, but the sun was bright. Being in Germany, the zoo was clean and well designed. Martha was surprised by how close she could get to the animals, and how large many of their naturally looking habitats were. Many animals are not behind fences – sometimes only a moat separated the animals from the spectators. Some of the tamer animals were allowed to roam on the walkways alongside the paying pedestrians. Martha loved that she could buy animal friendly food and feed the beasts right there. Her favourite was when she hand fed the elephants. 

In the aquarium, a lemur jumped right on her shoulder. Martha screeched, which scared the lemur off. She was impressed by the sharks and crocodiles. Both the aquarium and zoo are very large, and it took a long time to walk through them both.

Nate snapped off hundreds of pictures of exotic animals, birds, fish, reptiles, but he saved his best photos for Martha. She was exquisitely photogenic, and it was hard to take a bad picture of her. He took hundreds of candid and staged photos. 

They spent three hours in the zoo, stopped for lunch, and then two more hours in the aquarium. They left the zoo/aquarium complex at 4 PM. Martha felt it was too late to go to the botanical gardens. There was a botanical garden nearby – they jogged through it – but the one Nate had in mind was much nicer, and a long train ride away. She wanted to go home, rest, and then go out for dinner. She thanked Nate for a fantastic day, and she kissed him gently on the cheek adoringly. 

Just as the found their seats on the subway train, Nate's cell phone rang. The Hamburg transit system has cell repeaters in the underground subways, so mobile calls are not cut off. The call display showed Henry Brandt. Nate was surprised to see him call on a Sunday. He answered the call, and Henry said he had picked up Nate's message yesterday, and he has been working on Briana's release ever since. Brandt has compiled all the necessary documents to file with the AeB first thing tomorrow. He said there are over 400 pages in his filing. Nate must bring a bank draft for 20,000.00 Euros to at the AeB directorate at 10:30 sharp, and he must be prepared to sign about 50 times at the directorate. As soon as the AeB processes the bond, Briana will be released into Nate's custody, which should be before noon. Brandt said he would send Nate an email with all the details. The entire conversation was in German, so Martha had no sense of the content of the call, but she knew it was about Briana, because Nate mentioned her name twice during the call. 

As soon as Nate hung up, Martha asked what the call was about. "That was Briana's AeB lawyer," Nate explained. "She will be released by noon tomorrow."

Martha jumped to her feet in the middle of the subway car and cheered with her hands upstretched, like a football referee signaling a touchdown. She turned toward Nate and wrapped her hands around his neck and planted a huge kiss on his lips. The nearby passengers smiled at Martha's unguarded happiness. She sat down beside Nate with a beaming smile, took his hand in hers, and didn't stop fidgeting until they reached the Schlump station where they transferred to the line toward the Landungsbrucken stop near Nate's apartment. 

Nate explained the schedule for Monday morning along the way. He would arrive at the bank at 10, which is when it opens, secure the bank draft, and then walk directly to the AeB directorate. There he will surrender the draft, and sign many papers. Briana would be released into Nate's custody, because he is paying the bond, and he is therefore responsible for making sure she abides by her conditions of the bond. 

Martha asked if she could come with him. Nate had already considered this. He was worried the presence of an immediate family member could complicate things – perhaps she has inalienable rights that Nate does not, and she could intervene in ways that would disrupt Briana's release, or worse, prevent the return of the 20,000 Euro bond to Nate. Nate shared none of his thinking with Martha, but instead he told Martha his lawyer made it clear that only the bond issuer (Nate) and the lawyer were permitted to be present at Briana's release. It was a lie Nate was willing to live with, as it helped him keep his promises. Nate told her she would stay home in his apartment, and he promised he would bring Briana home directly as soon as she was released. Martha's face saddened for an instant, and then she remembered the bigger picture – Briana was being released – and Martha decided against making a fuss. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 08



After they changed trains at the Schlump station, Martha started making plans for all the things they were going to do – she would take Briana back to the zoo, and go see the botanical gardens they didn't make it to, and go see a live theatre show, and ... Nate decided to let her scheme without pointing out that all these activities require money, and she had none. He was not willing to immerse himself in the day-to-day details before he completely understood the situation. 

They walked home from the Landungsbrucken station hand-in-hand, and Martha was skipping and hopping like a seven year old schoolgirl. She was babbling about how things were going to be different between her and Briana, how she would make things better. Nate was developing serious concerns about the magnitude of the crash to reality Martha faced in her near future, but now was not the time or the place. 

As they stepped inside the apartment, Nate reminded Martha to remove her underwear. She was so consumed by everything Briana that he figured she would have completely forgotten. It also served as a reminder, Nate hoped, of the obligations she still owed to Nate. 

Martha fell silent, and she reached up her dress with her hands on both sides, and tugged the underwear down her legs, and then she picked them up. 

"Strip," Nate ordered as he closed the door to the hallway. 

Martha looked harshly at Nate, but then closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and slipped off her white denim jacket. Next she pulled the white spandex top over her head, revealing her perfectly shaped tits. Finally, she unzipped the back of her dark red skirt, and shoved it down her thighs. She stepped out of the skirt, then took off her shoes, and stood Naked before Nate. 

"Go to the center of the room and wait for my inspection," Nate pointed into the apartment. Martha padded naked across the floor, and then drew her hands behind her head and spread her feet wide apart. Nate pulled off his sports coat and laid it over the back of a chair. He stood across from Martha without saying a word for several seconds. 

"Martha, I want you to just listen. Don't speak until I tell you, and do not move from this position. Do you understand?" Martha looked at Nate for two full seconds, and then nodded her head. She remained standing naked with her hands drawn behind her head and her feet wide apart. Nate did not touch her.

"I know you're excited," Nate began, "and you have every right to be. You have sacrificed and risked a lot to make it to this point. If it were not for you, Briana would stay in AeB custody, and eventually she would be sent to general detention, and await her conviction." He paused for a moment. "You probably feel many things about yourself right now, and I hope pride is one of them. None of this would have happened without you."

"We need to look at certain truths," Nate shifted course. "The truth is, you resorted to tough love with Briana not because you are a bad parent, but because Briana gave you no other option. The truth is Briana took a large amount of money from you that she never repaid, and that action hurt you. The truth is, Briana created the situation she is in with the London School of Economics, and if it weren't for her carelessness and disregard, she would be home now, and you would not be here. The truth is, Briana lied to you, she lied to me, and she lied to Pavlina." Martha's face hardened as she listened to Nate's condemnation of her only daughter.

Nate waited for it all to sink in. "The truth is, Martha, Briana is her own worst enemy, and she has demonstrated she cannot be trusted." Martha darted a mean look at Nate, but she felt a crack split her emotional armor. 

Nate waited again. "The truth is, Martha, you know all of this already. The truth is, Martha, you know things will not change by themselves, and you know in your heart of hearts that, as long as you come charging to her rescue, Briana will never learn." The crack in her armor deepened, and Martha felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She wanted to wipe the tear away, but she knew she was not allowed. 

Now Nate approached Martha. He started poking her on her chest bone with his index finger, drumming on the firm skin lightly between her naked breasts. "Just nod yes or no to my questions," Nate instructed her as he continued repeatedly poking her breastbone. 

"Do you like it when I do this?" Martha shook her head no.

"If I did this all the time, would that make you angry?" She nodded yes. 

"So is it my fault that I am doing this to you?" She nodded yes. "That's where you're wrong," Nate continued poking her on her breastbone. Martha was getting really mad. "Because you never told me to stop, so how can it by my fault? How do I know this bothers you if you don't tell me?" He continued poking her on the chest, but a little harder. "You are allowed to tell me to stop, but don't move from your position,"

"Stop," Martha said, but Nate kept on poking her. 

"Stop, please," she tried again, but he kept on poking her harder. 

"PLEASE STOP!" she cried out, but Nate continued poking her, a little harder. 

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU STOP!" she yelled, but he only poked her harder. 

Briana pulled her hand away from her head, grabbed Nate's wrist, and pushed it away "STOP POKING ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" she screamed.

"Yes," Nate smiled, "I am Briana poking you. I have been poking you for longer than you can remember. You have been asking me to stop. You have been begging me to stop, but I didn't. I just keep poking you. I am Briana poking you. You have flown 4,000 miles to rescue me, and I am still poking you, and you know it." Nate paused. "You broke Nate's rule just now, and you know it will cost you dearly, but you broke it anyway, because you know that's the only way you are going to change the cycle of his bad behavior. I am Briana poking you, and the truth is you have known for a long time you need to change the rules if you are going to stop Briana's cycle of bad behavior."

"Oh my God!" Martha buried her face in her hands and sat down on the floor cross legged, crying. "Please don't tell me all this."

Nate waited a few minutes until Martha stopped crying. "Stand up," he ordered, "stand for inspection, and take your punishment."

"No," Martha shook her head at the floor. 

"Do it, or Briana doesn't come home tomorrow." Martha looked up at Nate's face. He was serious, and she knew it.

"What's the use?" she sighed as she collected herself from the floor, and with exaggerated apathy and disinterest, she resumed her naked position with her hands behind her back and her feet wide apart, but this time her shoulders had fallen and her head was hanging low.

"Head up high," Nate ordered, "chest out, tummy in." Briana released an obvious sigh of resentment, which Nate ignored, and she fixed her posture to Nate's pleasing.

Nate stood across from her. "Here comes your punishment," he said, and he stepped forward, put both arms around her neck, pulled her in, and kissed her long on the mouth. She reluctantly kissed him back, but kept her eyes wide open, and darted them all around, alert to what the real punishment might be."

Nate pulled back. "Let's do that again," he said, "but this time, close your eyes and do everything properly." He kissed her again, and she let herself go, closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and kissed Nate for a long time. He rubbed her back affectionately, but not sensually. Finally he pulled away.

"Here is another truth," he said. She rolled her eyes. "No, stay with me," he urged her, rather than commanding her. She looked at him skeptically. "The truth is, you think you are not strong enough to do this, but you are wrong. You are stronger and braver than many soldiers I fought beside." He waited. "You think you are not smart enough, but you are wrong. When it comes to figuring out people, you make Einstein look like small soap dish." She smiled at that. "The truth is, you think you are alone, but Martha, you are not alone," and he kissed her again. She kissed him back this time properly.

"May I speak now," she asked weakly. Nate nodded. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I can help you," he offered. 

"You!" she retorted with her hands still behind her back. Nate Nodded. "You, who sodomized me and my daughter, who extorted sex from us – you're going to help?"

"I did not make anything you or Briana do anything against your will," Nate reminded her.

"You took advantage of a power dynamic," Briana dropped her hands to her side and brought her feet together. "You exploited our lack of money." 

Nate shook his head. "What!" Martha demanded.

"Do you remember coming into this apartment only two days ago, taking off all your clothes, and then telling me your tits, pussy, asshole, and mouth are mine?" She nodded embarrassedly. "And now you now know this whole thing was Briana's idea – she offered herself up to me in the first place?" Martha waited. 

Martha paused in thought. "You could have called me."

"Briana told me you were not talking," Nate retorted. "She told me you had cut her off for good after she stole a huge pile of money from you, although she seemed to have some bizarre rationale how it wasn't her fault. I didn't see how any good could come from poking the hornet's nest. Be honest, Martha, if you had received a message from someone you barely knew – 'your daughter is in trouble, send more money' – would you have done anything?"

"I am uncomfortable talking about this naked," Martha protested. "Can I get dressed?" Nate allowed it, and while she dressed he continued. "What else could I do? Turn her away, which, according to you, is what a man of character would do, because we both know that the man who loans money to that girl is a sucker and an idiot." He paused. "So, I could have been your man of high moral standing, and sent Briana on her way. In retrospect, I should have done that, because she has turned out to be more trouble than I bargained for." Martha tried not to feel insulted. "But that would leave Briana in jail, and it would leave you with no means to get her out. So tell me what kind of man am I, when you remember I never asked for any of this, and I always keep my promises?"

Martha thought a while. "You didn't have to go anal," she complained once she was back in her red skirt, white spandex top, and white jacket. 

"Yes I did," Nate retorted, "because she raised the cost when her defaulted school loan came into play. She needs to learn that, whenever she does something stupid that costs other people, she pays at least some of the price, or did you not learn anything when I poked you on the chest?"

"So ..." Martha paused in thought. "You mean anal was just ... what ... you were teaching her a lesson?"

"In part," Nate nodded. "I won't deny a certain ... ah ... attraction to it, but I was perfectly fine with her original 'no anal' restriction before the school loan bit her in the ass."

"So you chose anal because that was the one thing she said 'no' to originally."

"How did you get me to stop thumping you on the chest," Nate reminded her. "You broke the rules."

"About that," Martha remembered a forgotten thread, "my punishment is a kiss?"

"Oh no," Nate smiled. "Your punishment will be me supporting you, coaxing you, and making you turn Briana into a respectful person. Trust me," Nate ventured, "when it's all done, you would have preferred that we did anal all the time." 

Martha stared at Nate a long time. "You are one warped motherfucker," she pronounced. 

"I've been called worse," he smiled honestly. 

"I'm still pissed at you for sexually exploiting my daughter," she chided, "even if she did offer herself to you."

"Get over it," Nate said. "Like I told Briana, both you and she can walk away any time, although the bond complicates that now. I have never, ever held either of you against your will, or made you do things that you did not consent to in advance."

"But you keep my wallet, my passport, my money," she complained.

"And you can have them back any time," he reminded her. "But as Briana needs to learn, and pretty fucking fast, there is a cost to making decisions." Nate paused. "That's not exploitation, as you put it. That's simple commerce in its purest form."

"But you're now willing to go beyond commerce," Martha observed. "You're willing to help me turn Briana around. What part of commerce is that? What do you get out of it?"

"I'm not doing that for commerce," Nate corrected her.

"Why are you doing it, then?"

Nate paused, and flushed a bit. "I'm doing it because I like you."

"You ... you like me?" She blurted with disbelief. "You don't even know me." Then she changed her mind. "Well, in some ways you know me better than any man ever did." She paused in thought again. "Hell, you have your way with me all the time, what's not to like?"

"It's not about the sex," Nate objected. "You risked and sacrificed everything for your daughter, and that makes you special," he said. "You are the most beautiful person on the inside I have known for a long, long time." Martha wondered if she was being compared to Stephanie, but didn't dare ask.

"So ... you're not helping me just so that you can fuck my daughter," she confirmed. 

"I hope to never see her again after she discharges her AeB obligation."

"But ... while we are here, you will continue a sexual relationship with both of us," she confirmed. 

"As we agreed," Nate nodded, "We need to hold her to her word, otherwise we enable the cycle of bad behavior"

"Quite the sacrifice you're making for the cause," she quipped sarcastically.

"Yes," Nate nodded earnestly, "so far to the tune of 50,000 Euros." That rebalanced Martha's perspective. That was more cash than she could ever amass, even in her best years.

She looked around the room. "Look, I know you're trying to help, but I'm really tired. Can I have a rest for a while, and then we go out for dinner?"

"Sure," Nate smiled. "Go ahead upstairs, and have rest. But you need to think about what I told you."

"I know," she nodded, "but there's a big gap between realizing something needs to change and knowing the right thing to do."

"Start with the simple things," he said. "Promise only what you can deliver, deliver what you promise." She nodded vaguely and head up the stairs. Nate went to his office to make dinner reservations and to check his email. He opened his personal laptop. Brandt's detailed message was waiting, and it held a surprise. Nate saw it as good news – he was guessing Martha might view it differently. 

He checked the restaurants. Many of the best ones were closed Sunday. He called The Table restaurant in the HafenCity district and made a reservation for 8 PM. Then Nate opened his work laptop, and plowed through some emails that had accumulated over the weekend. 

At 7:15 Nate closed his computer and went upstairs and changed. Martha was already in her spectacular black dress, and she was applying makeup in the bathroom. "I wish I had some high-heeled shoes," Martha called from the bathroom. When he finished changing, Nate went to the hallway cupboard and retrieved four pairs of high heeled shoes, and took them to the bathroom. Two were black, one blue, and one red. Nate set them on the floor. "See if one fits," she offered. 

"Do I want to know where these are from?" Martha asked. The blue pair was Briana's, Nate explained. One black pair was Pavlina's – she didn't take them. The other black pair and the red pair once belonged to Kate, his ex-girlfriend. Martha knew Briana's shoes would not fit. She tried Pavlina's black ones, but they were too small. Kate's black shoes were snug, but doable, and the red shoes were perfect, except they were red. Martha opted for Kate's black shoes. 

"Would you do me a favor, and you are allowed to say no," Nate asked Martha. She looked at him. "Don't wear underpants tonight."

"Warped motherfucker," she mumbled to herself, and went back to applying her makeup. Nate didn't know if that meant yes or no, but decided he could live with the mystery. 

Martha was looking at herself in the mirror as she applied her makeup. She noticed Nate standing behind her in the mirror, and suddenly Martha froze. "Nate," she looked at him in the mirror, "did you record our first time together in your apartment, like you recorded Briana, when I made my ... ah ... my offer to you?" He nodded in the mirror. "How much did you record?" she asked.

"I turned on the recorder when you were in the bathroom," Nate explained, "and I needed to use my phone to call Thomas Brandt," Nate explained, "so I recorded everything in between."

Martha replayed the sequence of events in her head, then she lowered her head, unable to look at herself in the mirror. "Including the blowjob I gave you," she confirmed, staring down the depth of the stainless steel drain in the white porcelain sink.

"It kind of sealed the deal," Nate smiled. 

Martha rested both hands on the side of the sink, still staring at the drain. "Promise me you won't ever share that with recording anyone else," 

"I promise I will never share it with anyone else, unless I have to defend myself if you lie about our arrangement," Nate assured her, justified his sharing of Briana's voice recording with Martha. Martha nodded her hanging head with her hands still resting on the sides of the sink.

Nate left the bathroom and finished getting ready. Martha came out a few minutes later, and went to her bags of purchased from the day before, and put on her earrings and pendant. "How do I look?" she posed for Nate. 

She was stunning. Her shoulder length brown hair lightly brushed her delicate shoulders. The makeup she applied was subtle – it highlighted her cheek bones without looking artificial. The lace pattern dress was spectacular. Even Kate's high heel shoes worked. "You are gorgeous," Nate smiled. "I will be the envy of every man at the restaurant tonight," he promised. 

Martha waved at him dismissively. "I wish I had a shawl," she said. Nate showed her Briana's blue shawl, but Martha rejected it – it did not match her ensemble. She put on her black jacket with faint white stripes. 

They walked together down the stairs, Nate insisting she lead. He locked the door on the way out. They walked down the hall together, but this time, Nate stopped at the glass elevator shaft and pushed the call button. When the doors opened, they stepped inside, and Nate pressed the garage level. They watched their surroundings rise above them as the clear glass elevator descended into the depths of the building. The elevator opened into a narrow hallway, and Nate turned left, leading Martha to an underground parking garage with cars lining both sides of the walls. Near the end, a small black SUV chirped it's flashing lights as Nate unlocked it from his keys. Nate had backed it into its spot, so he walked around the car to the passenger side and opened the door for Martha, and closed it once she was safely inside. He returned to the driver's side and climbed in.

"What kind of car is this?" Martha asked. 

"Audi Q7 Turbo Diesel Intercooled," Nate answered dryly.

"Okay," Martha offered uncertainly – he lost her after Audi. She did not know cars. "It looks very nice." It was immaculate inside. "Is it new?"

"I got it when I got the apartment," Nate explained, "so yeah, about seven months old. He started the diesel engine, and looked at the odometer. "Just over four thousand kilometers," he noted to himself. "I don't use it that often."

Nate configured the transmission to standard gear selector mode, put the car into first gear, and gently pulled out of the parking spot. Up on the street, Nate selected the GPS map from the virtual pilot display, and navigated his way to The Table restaurant. They were headed for a quirky area of town where the streets are lined with large, rectangular industrial buildings devoid of any architectural imagination. When they arrived, Nate pulled into the parking lot, and Martha shot nervous looks out the windows in all directions. "Are you sure this is it?" she asked apprehensively. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 08



"The neighborhood looks like a gulag," Nate nodded, "but they have one of the finest restaurants in town." He backed the car into a free parking spot. "I'll let you out," he offered as he opened his door, and walked around the front of the car, and then opened her door. She stepped out in her high heeled shoes, and held his arm tightly. He locked the car doors with an electronic chirp, and he walked her to the building front door.

They stepped inside, and a hostess greeted them. Nate announced himself, and said he had a reservation. She checked her ledger and crossed his name off the list. She asked if she could take Martha's coat, and Martha handed her the jacket, leaving Martha in her spectacular black dress. Nate asked for English menus, and the hostess nodded, then led them through a door, and then down a long flight of wooden stairs. Below, a single, elongated, serpentine-like table meandered through the large dining room like a riverbed, bending this way, twisting that way. People were seated at local bends in the reverbed table formation, creating private nooks in the continuous wooden tabletop. As they followed the hostess down the long staircase, Nate watched at least a dozen men and women lock eyes on Martha. The hostess led them to their private section of the serpentine table in a corner of the large room. 

"What a peculiar arrangement," Martha surveyed the room around her.

"I am told the table represents the Elbe River," Nate explained, although he wasn't so sure himself. 

"It creates an oddly private feeling in quite a crowded place," Martha analyzed.

"Welcome to Europe," Nate smiled. They opened their menu, and Martha was immediately impressed. A Sushi and goose liver appetizer – a tantalizing combination she had never considered. She had not tried bouillabaisse for a long time. Today they were serving venison, another interesting choice. 

"None of the menu items have prices," Martha commentated. 

"If you have to ask," Nate explained, "you can't afford it."

"Oh my!" she sighed. "You certainly know how to impress a lady," and then she added, "well, sometimes."

"I have my moments," Nate nodded without taking offence. "So tell me about you. Where did you grow up?"

Martha explained she was born in Richmond, British Columbia, just outside Vancouver. Her father was a commercial electrician contractor – he did very well during the boom years, and not that poorly in the bust years. Her parents moved to Ottawa when she was 10. She was a rebellious teenager, and ran away at the age of sixteen. She returned back home at seventeen, but then became pregnant with Briana.

"I don't want to call it a mistake, because I love Briana, but having Briana as a teenage single mother was a life altering event." Martha explained her mother insisted she live at home and continue at school, and Briana would grow up in a good home while Martha completed her education. She went to college for a business degree, and got a job right away at an engineering firm as the junior office manager, which really meant fetching coffee and stocking toilet paper in the washrooms. She left that job in a year, and was hired on with a major distributor and warehousing company that was the middleman between the factories and the retail stores. She became more involved in shipping and logistics, until a year ago, the company closed. The company fell victim to the burgeoning tide of on-line shoppers, and declared bankruptcy, leaving its employees with no back-pay, let alone severance. Martha discovered she had developed a narrow skillset in a shrinking job market, and finding new employment was proving much more difficult than she had expected. 

During conversation they ordered their meal and drinks. "Will I upset you if I ask about Briana's father?" Nate broached the topic tactfully. 

"Not much to say, really," Martha shrugged. "We were both young and stupid. We didn't plan on Briana. He promised to stay, and look after Briana, but then things didn't work out. My parents became very annoyed with him – he'd promise all sorts of things, like even babysitting Briana, and wouldn't show up. He left as much because of my parents as anything else," Martha sighed. 

"They didn't respect him," Nate linked her recounting of her ex to their earlier conversation. "Briana told me he died young," Nate prompted.

"Cancer," Martha nodded, "although I didn't even know about it until after he died."

"How did you move to Ottawa?" Nate asked. That was the city Nate lived in, and where Briana babysat his kids. It was 4,000 miles from Richmond.

"My dad sold his business to a national contracting firm, and as part of the deal, he moved to Ottawa to open a new office. They bought a house there. Briana and I were still living with them, so we moved with them. They loved the city. My dad built a new house – their retirement home. They moved into the new house, and left Briana and me in their old house, and they gave it to me." She nodded slowly. "I refused to accept it, but they just moved out and left Briana and me there." Martha stopped as a flood of memories came back. "That's the house Briana grew up in."

"Have you travelled much?" He wanted to get to happier topics. 

"I went on a cruise with three of my girlfriends," Martha nodded, "but we were so drunk the whole time I don't remember much." She reflected in thought. "Well," she smiled coyly, "I remember some of it."

"A conversation for another time," Nate smiled.

"A conversation that's never going to happen," she blushed, unable to suppress a smile. 

Nate kept the conversation focused on her, on good times, on safe subjects. She eventually got tired of talking about herself, so they compared their interests in movies. The topic drifted to live theater. She said she had been to a live theater only once – she loved it – it was a production of Cats. They switched over to music, and which artists they like. Nate asked what concerts she had been to. "Not many," Martha offered flatly. "You don't get out to a lot of concerts as a teenager with an infant at home." Nate inwardly slapped his head for being so stupid. 

Dinner was over and they ordered dessert and coffee while they finished the last sips of their bottle of wine. "Why have you asked about me all night," Martha asked. 

"Because you are a beautiful woman on the inside, and I want to know you better," Nate answered honestly. 

"Why do you say that – on the inside?"

"Because everyone can see you are beautiful on the outside – that's obvious. I am trying to get to know the real you."

"Why?" Martha asked. 

"Because I like you."

She rolled her eyes shook her head in disbelief. "Of course you like me," she sighed. 

Nate didn't want to have this conversation here, and he didn't want the night to end this way. "Listen," he offered gently, "I've tried really hard to have a very nice time with you tonight. I wanted you to have a relaxing time. I was wondering if we could steer clear of land mines until we get home."

"Sure," Martha replied curtly, but the damage was done. They sat in silence. "So tell me about you," Martha finally ventured. "Where did you grow up?"

"I grew up in small town Godderich, Ontario," Nate started. "It's a real tourist region on Lake Huron, across from Michigan. 

"Near Toronto," Martha acknowledged. 

"Closest city would be London, Ontario," Nate qualified, "but it is near Toronto – about 3 hours. 

"I went to Toronto for engineering, and, well, you know what happened to that," Nate referred obliquely to his girlfriend Stephanie. "I moved to Kinston at the RMC – sorry, the Royal Military College – got my engineering degree, joined the army, married, had kids, went into special forces, retired, and now I'm a consultant."

"Wow," Martha nodded with feigned awe, "a whole lifetime in 30 seconds." She waited for him to say something, but then continued. "What did you do in the army, I mean, before you were in special ops?"

"I was in Artillery at first," Nate said, as if that explained everything. "I spent three years here in Germany with that. Then I was moved over to mechanized infantry, only I never actually did anything in mechanized infantry. I kept getting sent out on special assignments that had nothing to do with my job. I'm pretty sure that's where I got the creds to get into special ops."

Nate paused. "I met Theresa when I was in school at Kingston. We married when I graduated, and we had Sarah and Dillon during those first few years. Those were pretty good years – we were moving around, experiencing the world." 

"And then you were in special ops?" 

"It was called the Canadian Airborne Regiment then. I was in Petawawa, north of Ottawa. Theresa didn't follow right away, which was good, because the whole regiment was disbanded, and some of us later moved to JTF2, near Ottawa."

He paused in reflection. "That's when Theresa and I drifted apart. In part because I was going on missions I couldn't tell her about, and in part because I really loved doing them, and I always wanted more." 

"So what do you do now?" she asked.

"There are two parts to JTF2," Nate explained. "The A group are the special ops guys who go out on missions. I was in that group until a certain incident I can't discuss moved me to the B group. Those are the support people who help the A group. I was really pissed off – the move was entirely political, but eventually I discovered how to do as much good in the B group. I started working with the Americans, French, the UK, and the Germans, and we started sharing ideas, tactics, and technologies focused on fighting terrorism. Until then, we were all basically doing it alone. I started traveling a lot, to all those countries, and that's basically how I set up the business I'm in now. I retired from the forces, and now I do basically the same job as a consultant."

"Why not stay in the JFT2," she asked, "if you're doing the same job."

"Way more money," Nate replied, "and more flexibility and freedom – I pick my assignments – they don't pick me. And, I can't deny there was a bit of a 'fuck-you' factor. I never got over being kicked out of the A group."

"Do you still do covert missions?" she asked, "you know, as a private contractor?"

"No comment," Nate replied with a cold stare. In truth, the only mission he'd been since he left the service was in the courtyard when he saved Briana's and Pavlina's life, but a little mystery never hurt the soul.

Dessert arrived. It was exquisite. 

"Tell me about your kids," Martha said. He told her about the amicable break-up with Theresa, and how Sarah later found out about Theresa's affair while they were still married, and how Sarah still does not talk to Theresa. Dillon is less dramatic about things. 

Sarah is finishing her final year of bioengineering in Toronto. She has applied to several schools to do a masters then PhD, Nate explained. 

Dillon is in his second year of a computer gaming design course in Chicago. He won a scholarship to go there, and has to keep his grades above 80 to keep it. So far, his average is 92, Nate relayed with obvious pride. 

They're both planning to visit Nate for the month of August, Nate explained. Each will come for two weeks, with a one week overlap between them. 

Martha roughly computed the math. "Just how much money to you make?" she asked unashamedly. Hell, if he can do what he wants with her, she should be able to ask some questions. 

"We sold our house when we split up," Nate explained. "I live on expenses, and Theresa moved in with Jason, so we agreed to use the equity for the kids' education, which is freaking expensive when they both have downtown apartments in huge cities."

"You live on expenses?" Martha asked for confirmation. "So your apartment ..."

"Is paid for by the client," nodded Nate. "The car too, and I get an allowance for food." 

Martha leaned back in her chair and whistled softly. "Sweet deal," she admired. "So you basically just bank all your income, which you already said is much better than before."

"Pretty much," Nate nodded. "I expect to be here for another year or two, maybe three," Nate shrugged lightly, "then I retire."

Martha thought about the shambles of her own financial disaster, and grew inwardly angry again at Briana's role in that. 

The cheque came, and Nate paid with a credit card. They rose from their seats, and Nate gently touched his hand to Martha's bare back as they walked along the serpentine wooden table to the stairs. As Nate followed her up the long, straight staircase, he admired the up-skirt view through the lace fabric. 

Martha claimed her jacket at the entrance, and they walked to the car. "That was a beautiful meal, and a very nice evening," Martha offered as Nate opened her car door. He kissed her gently on the lips for a brief moment, and then she lowered herself into the car and he closed her door.

Nate configured the vehicle to display the GPS map as he drove, not for directions, but more for situational awareness. He turned on the car stereo, which was tethered to his cell phone through Bluetooth, and the car audio played from his playlist of favorite songs. Kansas' Dust in the Wind was up first, and Martha, knowing only the words to the chorus, sang along quietly. 

"You have a beautiful singing voice," Nate complimented in between choruses. 

"Thanks," she smiled. "I used to sing in school. I was in the choir." She paused. "Do you sing?"

"Yes," Nate nodded, "but my kids tell me I shouldn't." Martha smiled brightly. They both sang to the final chorus together. 

Next on the playlist was P!nk's U + Ur Hand. "Oh my God!" Martha cried. "Briana would never stop playing this song when it came out."

"It certainly was a fuck-you anthem for a whole generation of girls," Nate nodded as he passed under the Baumwall elevated train station they he had taken many times. "I like the energy in the song," Nate commented as he turned right, and approached the apartment from the south, forcing him to bank left three quarters of the way around the building to access the underground parking entrance on the east side of the building. 

Nate turned off the music once they were inside the garage, and he piloted the new car through the small garage, and backed into his reserved spot. "There don't seem to be enough cars in here for the size of the building," Martha observed. 

"There's another garage," Nate explained as turned off the car, "but it has hoists, and I don't like waiting for my car. This one's more expensive," he noted, "but I come and go as I please."

"What do you mean hoists?" she asked.

"German cities are very dense," Nate explained. "To save space, you can park your car in a hoist garage, which lifts your car straight up, and then someone else parks their car under yours in the same spot. The hoists in this building stack the cars three high, so if you're on the top, you have to wait while the attendant moves the two cars beneath you out, and lowers your car."

"And that garage holds more cars than this one?" she asked incredulously. 

"Well, it's easily twice the floor space of this one," Nate estimated, "maybe three times the size, and it stacks the cars three high, so it holds about six to nine times as many cars." He paused. "Maybe a bit less, because the cars are spaced further apart to accommodate the hoists."

"That sounds very expensive," Martha ventured, "all that heaving lifting equipment."

"Real estate is very expensive here," Nate countered. "Everything in economics is a trade-off."

Nate opened Martha's door, and took her hand as she stepped out. He locked the doors remotely, and they entered into the hallway for the elevator. Nate pressed the call button, but once they stepped in, he pressed the down button, not up. The car descended, and then the door opened. Nate led Martha out by the hand, and they turned right, instead of left, and Nate opened the door at the end of the hallway. 

"Here," Nate said, ushering Martha into the second underground parking garage. Sure enough, the garage was at least twice as long as the first one, and most cars were stacked three high. Beside each stack was a pair of vertical rails that ran floor to ceiling. Connecting each pair of rails were two elevated platforms, one above the other, and each platform suspended a car in mid-air. 

"I've never seen this before," Martha exclaimed in wonder, surveying the Mercedes, BMWs, Audis, Volkswagens, Fiats, Audis, Volvos, and other European cars stacked on top of each other. An attendant in a booth near the door smiled to Nate, but was clearly paying attention to Martha, who was still dressed in her stunning black dress with her jacket over top. Nate waved back at him, then he shepherded Martha back through the door to the elevator. 

When they arrived in the apartment, Nate asked if Martha wanted a night cap – his offering was limited to wine and cognac. She asked for a glass of white wine, which Nate retrieved from the fridge, and he then poured a healthy dose of cognac into a brandy snifter for himself. "Cheers," Nate offered as he handed her the white wine. She took the glass and gently clinked it against his.

"Is this how you live all the time?" Martha asked. 

"I go to restaurants maybe only once or twice a week," Nate mused, "I normally make my own breakfast and dinner. But otherwise," he gestured around the apartment with his cognac glass, "what you see is what you get."

"Is it just me," Martha looked around, "or is the downstairs bigger than the upstairs."

"The downstairs is bigger," Nate nodded. "The upstairs stops here," he pointed to the wall before the hallway to the downstairs bathroom, laundry closet, and his office. The apartment next door has a bigger upstairs than downstairs." Martha nodded appreciatively. 

Nate gestured to Martha to sit on the sofa, and he sat next to her. He put his cognac down, reached to her face, and kissed her gently. She closed her eyes and returned his kiss for a long time before he pulled away. "Let's take our drinks upstairs," he whispered, and stood up, reaching for his cognac. He held out his hand, and she took it and pulled herself off the sofa. Nate gestured her to go up the stairs first, and once again he admired the view from behind.

"I need to use the washroom," she said at the top of the stairs. Nate nodded, and took her wine glass into the bedroom. She entered the bathroom, closed the door nearly shut, and then remembered she was forbidden to close the bathroom door. Martha sucked in deep breath, and opened the door, then sat on the toilet, staring through the open doorway. Her tinkling in the toilet bowl could not be helped, and mercifully, there was almost no sound from her other excretory function. She wiped clean, and then took another strip of toilet paper, moistened it under the tap, and wiped herself again, being certain to leave nothing behind. 

She had no underwear to pull up, so Martha washed and dried her hands, then walked to the bedroom. Nate was waiting naked on the bed. "Come lie down," he patted the bed gently beside him. She lifted herself onto the bed, and lay on her back. 

Nate straddled her thighs, leaned forward, and kissed her gently on the lips. She dutifully kissed him back. Then he planted tender kisses down her chin, on her chest, down the front of her black lace dress, between her breasts, and down her tummy as she lay quietly. Nate moved off her thighs, and planted light kisses down one leg to her toes, and starting at the other foot, up the other leg, this time staying on the inside of her thigh as he rose higher and higher up her leg.

Nate pressed her dress up, and Martha lifted her hips for him, letting him lift her dress right up to her naval, exposing her naked pussy. No underpants, Nate smiled. He gently spread Martha's supple legs apart, and planted sweet kisses on Martha's bare triangle just above her pussy. She closed her eyes and rolled her head back as Nate slowly moved his kisses southward, until he found the delicate folds of her pussy. Nate landmarked right over her clit, and gently, deftly rubbed the tip of his tongue over her lightning rod, and Martha moaned appreciatively. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 08



Nate repositioned his knees between her legs for the long haul, and now brought his tongue into full contact with her pussy lips, and began massaging gently. As he increased the pressure that found its way to her pistol below, Martha put her hands on the back of Nate's head and she became aware of her own breathing as her chest rose and fell with the pleasure she felt under Nate's tongue. 

Nate speared his tongue through her parting lips, just for an instant, touching her bare clit, and Martha involuntarily grunted out loud at the welcome intrusion, and when he resumed his massage over the general area. She gripped his hair between her fingers as Nate began earnestly massaging over her clit, back and forth. Just now Martha realized she had been rocking her hips for some time, and Nate turned up the pressure on the area over her clit, and waves of excitement mounted inside her chest. 

"Oh yes!" Martha heard herself say, and Nate sped up his lingual massage, which in turn caused Martha's self-rocking hips to increase their tempo. Nate brought his hands beneath her ass, and he both squeezed her cheeks and lifted her ass harder against his mouth, and the double-barreled sensation pushed Martha toward her breaking point. "Oh please!" she cried as she felt every muscle in her body tighten, like a thousand springs tightening their coils. 

With his right middle finger, Nate found her rosebud, and wiggled it in as he continued massaging her clitoris, and the new sensation overloaded Martha's sympathetic nervous system, and a massive wave of orgasmic fury gripped her entire body. Her back arched high, lifting Nate's head well off the bed, but he stayed with her, and continued to massage her clit when she felt the second wave strike, and Martha heard a high shriek that she realized must be her own. Nate continued his cunnilingus duties, provoking a third orgasmic wave to consume Martha's body, and her fists hardened into balls of rock.

At last Martha's three-stage climax came to a blissful end, and she lowered her hips back onto the bed and relaxed her hands. Nate reached to pull her dress over her head, and Martha cooperated by leaning forward. He dropped the special garment carefully to the floor.

Martha's glorious excitement was not lost on Nate, and he moved up between her legs, and pointed his pussy-seeking missile homeward. Martha groaned with delightful anticipation when she felt the tip of is cock against the outer folds of her pussy, and she braced for him to fuck her savagely like a beast, but instead Nate pushed in only a fraction of an inch, and then pulled out, and again in a little further, and then out, and continued this slow, progressive penetration for a full minute before he finally found his cock fully buried inside her.

Nate went slowly, deliberately, making tender love to her. Martha rocked her pelvis in rhythm to his affectionate thrusting, and they moved together, like ballet dancers an intimate duet. Already primed by his orgasmic tongue lashing, Martha felt her loins start to stir again at the combination of his seven inch cock gently thrusting inside her at an agonizingly slow pace, and his hard pubic bone was rubbing against her pussy. If she was able to tilt her pelvis just so ... and it began again – she felt the orgasmic energies build inside her again while Nate slow-fucked her.

Nate gradually increased his tempo, still taking long strokes in and out of her deep pussy, and still rubbing his hard pubic bone over her clit, and Martha felt the tingling mount. Nate quickened his pace to a normal fuck now, and the added energy against her clit was all Martha needed, and in just thirty more seconds she unleashed her second orgasm of the evening with him deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around his hips and raked her nails hard down his back as Martha cried out with euphoric rapture for the second time that night. 

With two of her orgasms notched in his belt, it was no more mister nice guy for Nate. He pulled Martha's arms off him, and pinned her wrists to the mattress beside her own head, and started slamming his hardened ram rod up Martha's fuck hole with devilish force. He pumped so hard into her pelvis that Martha bellowed out a grunt on each thrust as her own chest partially collapsed under the force of his pounding. Her tits gyrated furiously under the impact of his carnal pounding, and they slammed up and down and side-to-side, slapping each other in the middle of her chest on each cycle with a silly clapping sound. With her hands pinned beside her, Martha was helpless to stop her beauties from bouncing around so wildly, and Nate stared at them unabashedly, letting the vivid image of her gyrating breasts peak his erotic excitement.

"Oh ... fuck ... yes!" Martha barked out individual syllables between her chest compressions. Nate pounded her pussy with like a crazed daemon, causing his own orgasmic arousal level to mount exponentially. His balls, having patiently waited while he chivalrously ministered two orgasms to his sex partner, were now building toward their own galactic eruption. 

Nate sensed is detonation impending, and he drove faster, harder into Martha, and her compression grunts transmuted into little shrieks, and the sound of her carnal screams mixed in with his other erotic senses, and deepened Nate's orgasmic fury. He slammed viciously into her hips, holding his cock as deep inside her pussy as it could go, and Nate pulled his head back and unleashed a low, guttural groan to the unseen moon as wave after wave of jism rocketed out his pulsating missile launcher and slammed into Martha's back wall. Martha groaned with sympathetic ecstasy as she felt Nate's warm cum fill her vagina. 

When at last his orgasmic convulsions abated, Nate rested on top of Martha, taking most of his weight on his elbows and knees to avoid crushing her. He left his spent cock deep inside her, and he planted gentle kisses on Martha's forehead. When he finally felt his cock lose its girth, he pulled out of Martha, and lay beside her, and they kissed for a long time. 

"That was simply the most amazing sex I have ever had," Martha whispered, and touched his face. "Not like I compare," she lied, "but nothing in my life has ever come close."

"Even the conversation we won't talk about?" Nate smiled. 

"Oh," she looked away, "that was amazing for someone else," and she looked back kissed him on the nose. 

"Every time with you is amazing," Nate smiled and kissed her nose in return. 

Martha wanted to ask Nate what he was doing – was this some manipulative head game? – was he really that into her? – was he just using her? – was this the calm before the storm? – all of the above? But she stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin this precious moment, as artificial as it might be.

Nate reached for his cognac glass, and handed Martha her wine glass. She said she felt cold. They got under the duvet while they sipped their nightcaps. 

"So what happens tomorrow," Martha asked after the appropriate amount of sexual-to-practical transition time. 

"We'll go to the gym first thing in the morning," Nate replied, and Martha nodded an 'oh yeah' look, having forgotten about that. "Then we'll come back here. I will drive to the detention center, go to the bank, get the bank draft, and meet Brandt and Briana at the center." He paused, taking a sip of cognac. "Then I will bring Briana home." 

"I like the sound of that," Martha said softly, "bring Briana home."

"Martha," Nate looked at her warmly, "there is a condition to Briana's release I didn't know about until I read Brandt's email today." Martha waited in silence. "She will be released with an electronic ankle monitoring bracelet. She is not allowed to wander more than 100 meters from this apartment."

Martha nodded pensively. "Makes sense, I guess," she finally said, "knowing what Pavallina did." Nate didn't bother correcting Martha's pronunciation of Pavlina's name. 

"I know you had plans to go the zoo and the gardens," Nate explained. 

"Oh," I'm still doing that, Martha nodded assuredly. "I've been thinking about what you said, about changing the rules, about Briana poking me in the chest all these years." She took a sip of wine. "I am here for Briana, yes, but I am also going to live my life. When will I get another chance to do these things? I'm not giving that up just for her," Martha declared. 

"Well," Nate warned, "there could be a problem with that." She didn't say anything, so he continued. "If Briana wanders off, her electronic bracelet will trigger an alarm, and she will violate the terms of her bond. She will go back to jail, and I will lose my 20,000 euros." 

"Okay ..." Martha said cautiously, understanding Nate's words, but not seeing his point. 

"Briana cannot be trusted to be left home alone, and she can't leave the apartment," Nate connected the dots. 

"Of course," Martha shook her head with disappointment, annoyed at herself for not figuring it out sooner. "And I'm responsible for Briana."

"I'm afraid so," Nate nodded. "I can't stay home all this time – I have to go to work. Someone has to pay for all this," he drove the message home.

"So, no zoo, no gardens, no fun. Just non-stop Briana," Martha concluded ruefully. Nate nodded. "You sure know how to take the fun out of a perfect evening," she scowled, only half kidding.

"I'm sorry about that," Nate offered. "I really wanted this to be a special night for you."

Martha studied his face for a long time. "You're a warped motherfucker," she smiled.

"So I've heard," he kissed her, and she kissed him back.

"But sometimes your heart is in the right place," she offered with a half grin.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 09



Mother and Child Reunion

Nate arrived at the AeB directorate, near the City Hall, with ten minutes to spare, which in German parlance, was just barely on time. He was armed with the bank draft for 20,000 euros. Thomas Brandt was already there, waiting. Martha Evans was at Nate's apartment, no doubt pacing the floors impatiently. They had worked out at the gym earlier, as Nate promised. Nate returned with her to the apartment. He showered while she administered her own enema. As Martha then showered, Nate warned Briana that his cleaning lady would come in this morning, and to let the surly German woman go about her business. Then he kissed Martha a proper goodbye, as she was drying off, and he left the apartment, drove to a nearby car park, walked to the bank, withdrew the bank draft, and then walked back to the AeB directorate. 

Brandt and Nate sat together in the small waiting room, chatting idly. "Thank you for the payment for Miss Kozak's disposition," Brandt remembered to say. He had invoiced Nate in the previous week, and Nate had transferred the money electronically. No one wrote cheques in Europe any more – all banking was done electronically. It is a poorly held secret that the Americans are 20 years behind the Europeans in banking technology, trade, and security. They briefly discussed Pavlina's situation and whereabouts, but neither of them had any further information. She was gone,

Brandt explained he filed his documents with the AeB directorate at 0800 this morning. At 10:30 sharp, a severe looking woman with black hair and thick rimmed glasses called them into an office. She gestured them to sit down, and she left through a back door without a word, closing both doors on her way out. Less than a minute later, a tall, slim, dark haired man, no older than 25, entered through the back door, and introduced himself as Hans Tischendorf. Nate and Brandt introduced themselves. The entire conversation proceeded in German.

Tischendorf was wearing a three piece charcoal grey suit. He explained to both Nate and Brandt that, if Fraulein Evans were not to meet her obligations under the AeB program, the 20,000 bond will be forfeited and additional charges may apply. To claim repayment of the bond, Tischendorf explained, Nate had to return Fraulein Evans to the AeB directorate on or before the expiry date of her AeB certificate for further processing. The directorate will then return the bond to Nate, less 1%, within five business days.

Nate asked a clarifying question – so the return of the bond is independent of whether Briana is subsequently released, and allowed to go home, or remanded to the criminal division, as long as she is returned to the AeB directorate in time and without violating her bond conditions. Tischendorf nodded yes, that was correct.

Tischendorf next cautioned both men that, as he was an officer of the court, any and every document signed in this meeting before him shall carry the full weight and penalty of perjury. Nate and Brandt nodded their understanding. Finally Tischendorf looked at Brandt, and complimented him for filing such a thorough application. Clearly Fraulein Evans has competent representation, Tischendorf allowed. Brandt nodded modestly, and Nate made a mental note to thank Henry Taggart for the referral. 

Tischendorf reviewed the terms of the bond. Fraulein Evans was to remain within 100 meters of the domicile that was registered to Nathaniel Edward Traymore. Any movement outside a 100 meter radius from Nate's apartment would be automatically detected by the ankle monitoring bracelet, and will result in a violation of the bond. Tischendorf recommends no more than 50 meters to be safe. The bracelet has tamperproof circuitry on it, and any attempt to remove, alter, or disable the bracelet will be detected and will result in a violation of the bond. Failure to return Fraulein Evans to the AeB directorate on or before the expiry of her AeB term will result in a violation of the bond. Any violation of the bond will result in the forfeiture of Nate's 20,000 euros. 

With the preliminaries aside, Tischendorf opened his file folder, and handed a stack of papers to Brandt, who read each one over carefully before passing it to Nate for his signatures. A blue colored sticky arrow pointed out each location where Nate had to sign, and green ones were for Brandt's signatures. Over the next hour, the two signed over fifty times collectively. Tischendorf handed Nate's copies of the signed documents to Brandt, who filed them in his briefcase. At the end of the tedious hour of signatures, Tischendorf stood up, shook both their hands, and asked them to wait here, and retreated through the back door.

Five minutes later, Briana was escorted in handcuffs through the same door. Two armed guards flanked her, with a third following several steps behind. Briana was wearing the original jeans and T shirt she wore when she was arrested in Nate's apartment. No doubt, she was given prison garbs during her incarceration, and was just now allowed to don her regular clothing. Upon seeing Nate, Briana started crying, but she was not permitted to touch him.

A guard handed one final document to Nate on a clipboard – it was his acknowledgement he was accepting custody of Briana Carly Evans, subject to the terms and conditions of blah blah blah. Nate signed it, and the guard also signed it, and then tore an under copy off with pressure copies of the two signatures, and the guard handed the copy to Nate, who handed it to Brandt for filing. With that final administrative paperwork complete, the lead guard nodded to the second guard, who uncuffed Briana. She ran to Nate and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I never thought I would be so happy to see you," she smiled, and sniffled back her tears. 

"Let's go home," Nate patted her on the back, and ushered her out the front door of the interview room. Brandt followed them to Nate's car, so he could later attest he watched Nate put her into the car. Nate unlocked the doors with his keys, and opened the left rear door. He gestured for Briana to get in. She looked mildly at odds about getting in the back seat, but Nate insisted, so she hopped in without complaining, and Nate closed the door.

"Did you remember to activate the child door locks," Brandt asked Nate. He nodded, and shook Brandt's hand, and thanked him for his services. "Remember you must drive directly to your apartment – no detours," Brandt cautioned him. "They will be monitoring her bracelet already." Nate assured Brandt he understood. "Good luck," Brandt offered without a smile.

Nate drove home using the most direct route, which was not the fastest, but if a monitoring agency was watching on a GPS map, they would appreciate Nate's navigation. 

He parked the car in the underground parking lot, backed the Audi into its usual spot, got out, and opened Briana's rear door. If she noticed it was locked from the inside, she made no mention of it. Nate touched her in the middle of the back, and ushered her toward the door to hallways with the elevator. The car chirped once, indicating the doors were locked. 

Briana stepped into Nate's apartment at 12:07. Martha heard the door unlock, and stopped pacing in the living room, and watched Briana step through the door. "Oh my God Briana!" Martha called out as she rushed to Briana with outstretched arms. She wrapped her arms around Briana and smothered her with a mamma bear hug. "Oh God I was so worried about you," Martha cried with the waterworks wide open. 

"Hi Mom," was all Briana offered in a sullen voice without returning the hug. 

Martha pulled back and held Briana's face in her hands. "You've lost weight," she fretted, and Briana rolled her eyes. Martha realized she was smothering Briana, so pulled away, and suddenly became awkwardly conscious of Nate in the room, and all that entailed for both women. 

Sensing his moment, Nate said "I have to go to work, and do some shopping." He looked at Briana. "You understand you are forbidden from leaving this apartment. You have an electronic monitoring ankle bracelet, and if you violate your ..."

"Yeah, yeah," Briana waived dismissively. 

"Don't you 'yeah yeah' me!" Nate barked at her, and he put his right hand around Briana's throat and pushed her backwards until her back hit the wall and he pinned her neck there. 

"Nate!" Martha cried, but he ignored her. 

"You are in seriously deep shit," Nate lectured her with his hand firmly around her neck, but he did not squeeze it tight, letting Briana still breathe comfortably. Briana instinctively grappled both hands around Nate's wrist, and tried to pull his arm away, but it was like trying to move a stone statue – for all her strength, she couldn't budge his arm even the slightest. Briana instantly understood how hopelessly outmatched she was to his incalculable strength. She started to appreciate how Nate so easily overpowered those three Romanians, and Briana started to tremble.

"You are here only because other people have gone through extraordinary measures, and have made unspeakable sacrifices," he lectured sternly. "You are a guest here only for as long as I say you are, and if you do not smarten up RIGHT FUCKING NOW you are going back to jail and you will stay there until your youthful looks rot to shit!" 

Martha froze in shock, but she was starting to get a glimpse of what Nate meant about breaking the rules. "You will afford your mother and me with the courtesy and respect we deserve for rescuing you," Nate ordered. Now Nate pressed his hand into her throat, blocking off her breathing. "IS THAT CLEAR?!" he barked into her face.

Unable to speak, Briana nodded her head yes in acknowledgement. Nate released her throat, and Briana instinctively brought her hands to her own throat. She started breathing again.

"Jesus, Nate, you don't have to ..." Briana started.

"STAND FOR INSPECTION!" Nate bellowed at her, only two feet from her face. Martha wasn't sure if his order included her, but better safe than risk his wrath right now, so Martha spread her feet wide and snapped her hands behind her head. 

Briana looked at her mother in her rigid inspection pose, then at Nate who was glaring at her with cold, steely eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it after sober reconsideration. Slowly, with a fuck-you attitude and casual speed, Briana set her feet wide apart, and pulled her hands behind her head. 

"You will not leave this apartment without my permission – EVER – or I will send you back to jail that instant. Is that clear?" Nate enunciated each syllable clearly and forcefully. Briana nodded her head.

"Say the whole thing back to me so I know you understand," Nate snapped.

"I will never leave the apartment without your permission," Briana replied sullenly with her hands still behind her back.

"Or else what?"

"Or else you will send me back to jail," she rolled her eyes. 

Nate put his hand around her throat again. "Don't give me attitude, you little shit! Now, say it, without the rolling of the eyes. You will do everything I tell you to – and yes, honey, I mean EVERYTHING," he inflected the last word, "or our deal is over, and you go back to jail. Repeat it back to me."

"I will do everything," she warbled the word, "you tell me to or our deal is over, and I go back to jail."

Nate took his hand off Briana's neck, and turned to Martha, who was still standing at attention. "Smarten up your girl," Nate warned, "or you and I will have a problem."

"Yes, Sir!" Martha nodded smartly. 

Nate looked back to Briana, who was looking at her mother with a quizzical expression. "I am going out. I will be back before six. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge." He turned now to Martha. "Use the phone on my desk in my office to call me if you need to. I will leave my number beside it." 

"Yes, Sir," Martha nodded. 

"I want you both dressed properly when I return," Nate said to Martha.

"Yes, Sir," Martha nodded again. 

"That is all," Nate allowed, and walked into his office. 

"Holy fuck, Mom!" he heard Briana cry to her mother, who shushed Briana, and said they would speak later. 

Nate left his cell number on a yellow sticky by the office phone, gathered is work laptop in its case. "Teach her the rules," Nate barked at Martha, and then left the apartment without another word. He rode the subway to his office, where he put in only a few hours' work. 

Nate then went to a sex shop that specialized in bondage and domination toys. He explained what he was looking for. The young sales clerk said she understood exactly what he meant, and she showed him several options. He selected an assortment of items. 

Nate swung by the grocery store across from his apartment building on the way home. He bought a large load of groceries, and walked across the street with four full bags, as well as the other bag of equipment. He stepped into his apartment just after 5:30. Mother and daughter were sitting on the sofa watching TV. Martha was wearing her black leather skirt and her black leather vest. 

They stood up together as soon as he stepped in, and he was pleased to see Briana was wearing her black skirt and a white tube top, with her bare midriff showing. He had not seen this combination on her before. 

Now that she not wearing her jeans, Nate could see the black electronic bracelet around her right ankle. The electronic assembly looked like a ruggedized full sized smartphone case, and the cuff around her ankle was a full inch wide. 

Nate set the bags of groceries down on the kitchen counter, and put his other bag of equipment in his office for now. When he returned to the living room, mother and daughter were still standing, waiting for him. He first kissed Martha long on the lips, and she kissed him back with an open mouth and closed eyes, then he moved over and kissed Briana, who also closed her eyes and kissed him long on the mouth.

He asked how their afternoon was. Briana shrugged it was okay and Martha said they had used the time to catch up without making it sound like fun. He called them to stand for inspection, and both girls set their feet wide and pulled their hands behind their heads. Nate sat down in the sofa chair.

"There is still the problem of your accounting of our situation," Nate said to Briana. "Your mother said you told her the same lie you told Pavlina."

"It's not a lie," Briana shot back. "It's how it happened. You forced me, and now you're forcing my mother." 

Nate looked at Martha. She looked nervously at the floor. "Martha, come with me," he ordered. "Briana you stay here." Martha followed Nate into his office, and he closed the door. Briana stood in place but relaxed her stance with her hands at her side. 

"You didn't discuss this?" Nate challenged Martha.

"No ... well, we were working out other things ..."

"Martha, I am not sure if you understand the problem I have here," he explained. "I cannot take custody of a woman who accuses me of raping her. This is not me being mean," he said. "Under my bond agreement, I cannot be responsible for someone who has accused me of violating her rights. I have to send her back," he explained. 

"Nate no!" Martha pleaded. Her face broke into painful tears. "Please Nate, I'll do anything you want. Just don't send her back."

"She has to recant her version of the events, or I can't keep her here," Nate insisted. "Who else has shoe told? Who else will she tell? And surely you wouldn't want be known as the mother who left her daughter in the custody of someone accused of raping her."

"But we both know that's not true," Martha insisted. 

"Yes," Nate countered, "but don't you see how her lie makes it impossible for me to keep her here?"

"So play the audio recording. Make her recant," Martha insisted.

"No," Nate. "This is an opportunity. Briana is poking you in the chest. It is time you stepped up and stopped it." Nate waited for that to sink in. "You convince her to tell the truth, or I'm sending her back."

"How?!" Martha blurted with exasperation. 

"By breaking all the rules you have been obeying like a good little mother," Nate explained. "She is a lying bitch. It is time to show her what happens to bitches when they lie," Nate explained. "She needs to understand that her bad actions have consequences to her, and she needs to know she cannot push you around like this."

"You want me to ..." Martha looked to him for the end of the sentence.

"Do whatever it takes to convince her to tell the truth," Nate declared. "And it is better if she thinks the threat of returning to jail comes from you. In the long run, she will not fuck with you if she honestly believes you have your finger on the trigger that will send her back to jail."

"Now I see what you meant about my punishment," Martha mused. "Taking it up the ass is preferable to this."

"You will thank me in the long run," Nate assured her. Martha looked at him skeptically. "Let's go," Nate said, and opened the door. Briana returned to her inspection posture when she heard the door open, and Martha and Nate re-entered the room. Martha walked up to her daughter.

"You're lying," Martha accused Briana. "Nate never made you do anything. You offered yourself to him, and he agreed. You lied to Pavallina, and you lied to me."

"Pavlina," Briana corrected her mother.

Martha slapped Briana hard across the face. "Mom!" Briana screamed, and brought her hands to her face where Martha slapped her. 

"Put your hands behind your head and leave them there," Martha barked. 

"Fuck you!" Briana yelled and started for the stairs.

"Briana," Nate interjected, "I promise you if you don't do what you mother says, I will pick you up and drag you kicking and screaming all the way to the AeB directorate right now."

"You keep your fucking hands off my daughter," Martha snarled at Nate, and Briana beamed a fuck-you smile across the room at him. "I will take this little shit back to the police myself, and I will dump this spoiled bitch back in prison where she belongs." 

"MOM!" Briana screamed with genuine fear in her voice. "Don't say that!"

Martha stepped forward and slapped Briana hard again in the same place. "Stand for inspection, or go to jail in five seconds. It's that simple," Martha spat the words. Briana stood dumbfounded and frozen. It was a nightmare come true – her mother had turned on her. Her own mother, whom she could always count on to forgive and forget, had turned into one of 'them.' Martha slapped her hard again. "NOW!" she yelled.

Briana chirped a short scream from her mother's last slap. Slowly, she set her feet wide apart and drew her hands behind her head. 

Martha wanted to cry, scream, sob, apologize, and most of all, she wanted to hug Briana, but she did none of those things. She kept a steely expression, and thought how did Nate control her? Ah, yes ...

Martha slipped her right hand between Briana's wide open legs, and immediately landed her fingers on Briana's naked pussy beneath the short skirt. "Do you know what you're problem is," Martha asked quietly as she started stroking her fingers along Briana's centerline. Martha felt a rough stubble after a week's growth. 

"Oh God, Mom, please don't" Briana cried, her chest heaving with sobs she tried to keep in.

"Your problem is you think you can get away with anything," and she drove her middle finger up Briana's fuck hole and left it there. Briana burst out crying, but held her inspection position.

"Well," Martha continued, wiggling her finger around inside Briana's fuck hole, "that ride is over." She pulled her finger out of Briana, and touched her pussy scented digit to Briana's lips. "Suck it clean," she ordered, "or I will personally haul your spoiled ass to jail." 

Briana took her mother's finger into her mouth, heaving sobs as she did, making a mess of any sucking action.




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 09



"Now," Martha drew back, "Did you offer yourself to Nate, or did he force you?"

Briana stood sobbing. Martha slapped her hard again across the face. "Answer me! And stay in your inspection position," she warned. 

Briana was bawling, and her words were hard to make out. "I ... I offered ... I offered myself to ... to him ... he didn't ... he didn't force me," she managed to blurt out.

"And so you lied," Martha accused her with cool, steel eyes. Briana nodded. Martha slapped her. "Answer me!" she barked.

"YES!" Briana wailed. "I lied." Martha turned and looked at Nate. He nodded his head.

"Strip!" Martha ordered to her daughter. "NOW!" she raised her hand to Briana's face. It took no time for Briana to peel off her white boob tube and her black skirt, and she stood naked except for the ankle bracelet. "Go kneel in front of Nate, and beg for his forgiveness for lying about him," she ordered. 

Briana walked to Nate, and kneeled naked in front of him. "I am sorry I lied about you," she gently sobbed.

"Good," Martha allowed. "Now, make it up to him and suck him."

"MOM!" Briana screamed. Martha charged toward Briana with an upraised hand. "Okay!" Briana shrieked, and turned toward Nate, unzipped his pants and unbuckled his belt and button, and pulled them down to his knees. He pulled his underpants down, and was surprised to see a five-alarm hard-on raging at her. She leaned her naked body forward, and took him into her mouth, and started sucking on his seven inch cock.

Nate motioned Martha to come over to him. "Strip," he ordered her, and Martha undid the buttons of her leather vest, and pulled it off, revealing the black tank top. She hoisted that over her head, leaving her firm breasts in the open air. Then she unzipped the skirt, and pushed it off her hips, and stepped out of it. Nate pulled her naked body into him and kissed her, and she closed her eyes and kissed him back with an open mouth. He slipped his hands between her legs, and Martha obediently opened her legs wide while they continued kissing. Nate felt his balls start to warm to Briana's blowjob while he fingered her mother's pussy.

Nate pulled his cock out of Briana's mouth and his finger out of Martha's pussy, and shepherded the girls toward the sofa. He told Martha to go doggie style along the length of the chesterfield, with her ass up in the air and her head down on the pillows, and then he told Briana to lie face down on top of her mother's inclined back, so that Briana's chin was resting on Martha's raised ass. Nate climbed on the sofa behind Martha, and plunged his hardened cock deep into her waiting pussy, and fucked Martha for less than a minute, then he told Briana to open her mouth, and Nate pulled out of Martha's fuck hole, and slipped his cock, soaked by her mother's pussy juices, into Briana's mouth, and he told Briana to suck it clean. 

Nate went back and forth between Martha's pussy and Briana's mouth for ten minutes, slowly building the orgasmic pressure inside his balls. Each time went into Briana's mouth, he watched her suck her mother's pussy juices off his swollen cock. He didn't have any KY down here, or otherwise Nate would have ass fucked Martha and let Briana taste it. That would have to wait for another day.

As Nate's orgasmic tension built, he fucked Martha harder, faster, and he intensified his trajectory toward climax. As detonation became certain, Nate pulled out of Martha's fuck hole for the last time, and plunged his quivering missile into Briana's waiting mouth, and told her to bring him home. "Don't swallow," he ordered, "and don't spill – keep it in your mouth," just as he ejaculated the first of many cum salvos into her mouth. Briana kept a good seal on his shaft, minimizing the leakage save a few dribbles. When Nate had fired his last round of liquid love into her mouth, he pulled out, and told Briana to sit up. Next he told Martha to flip over, and get ready to take Nate's jism from Briana's mouth. He told Briana to lean forward and kiss her mother and let all the jism flow. 

Briana had to move to reposition her mouth over her mother's, and as she moved, Nate was distracted by the sight of her black ankle bracelet again. Briana gurgled an ugly sound of disgust as she kissed her own mother with an open mouth and let gravity pull the semen into Martha's mouth. Nate ordered them to play with his spunk, back and forth for a while, until he tired of it and told them to swallow. 

"That's so gross!" Briana whined when her mouth was finally empty. 

From below Martha slapped Briana hard across the face. "You don't get to complain," she ordered. 

Nate allowed the girls to dress while he pulled his pants up. The groceries were still resting on the kitchen counter, so Nate put them away while Briana retreated upstairs to the bathroom and Martha used the lower bathroom, leaving the door open while she cleaned up. When Martha returned from the bathroom, Nate had poured out two glasses of wine, and handed one to her. "Cheers," he offered her a glass.

"I'm so embarrassed," Martha sulked as she took a glass. "I was going to beg you not to go through with this ... you know, with me and Briana ... together," she offered uncertainly. 

Nate decided to continue this conversation out of earshot of Briana. He gestured Martha to follow him into his office. She followed him into his office with her wine glass in hand. Nate closed the door.

"I thought you handled that quite well," Nate allowed. "You certainly changed the dynamic between you and Briana."

"That's what I mean," Martha sulked. 

Nate paused, deciphering Martha's code, but he didn't get it. "You're embarrassed to have had sex together with me and Briana," he nodded. 

"No," Martha looked to the floor. "I'm embarrassed because I enjoyed it," she pouted. "Not the sex part," Martha qualified, "the control part. The slapping ... the power."

"Sounds like we have a dominatrix coming out of the closet," Nate smiled. 

"Oh, please!" Martha objected incredulously.

"Martha-matrix," Nate mused with his eyes focused on some distant, imaginary point. "Kind of has a ring to it."

"Stop it!" Martha snapped. "I am not a dominatrix."

"There's good money in it," Nate shrugged.

"Oh, so now you think I should be a prostitute," Martha shot back defensively.

"Who said anything about sex?" Nate corrected her. "There are guys, and girls I suppose, who will pay big bucks just to have a hot mistress boss them around and have sex with them."

Martha stared at him for a moment. "You serious?" she asked dubiously. "Why would a guy ..." she didn't finish.

"Mommy issues," Nate answered. "Some guys want to be abused and degraded by a beautiful woman they lust for but cannot have." He paused. "I bet you could make 500 an hour and never touch the guy. In your case, your middle age is a mommy selling feature, and you certainly have the looks."

"Perverts," Martha snorted. 

"You'd be surprised," Nate countered. "Executives, priests, lawyers, politicians – all successful guys with six figure salaries. Well, the priests not so much. But all guys who have high status careers, tons of money, and who will beg you to take their cash to wail all over them and tell them how naughty and worthless they are." Nate laid out the business plan. "And all perfectly legal, here and back home."

Nate could tell Martha had shut down – she would near no more of this. "Anyway," he segued, "for now, channel your inner dominatrix on Briana – turn her around – create a dynamic between you two where she will never dare to take you for granted again." Nate paused. "Stop her from poking you in the chest for all time."

"Oh my God," Martha's expression transformed into a catty little girl, "you would not believe her. The whole afternoon she complained about how unfair it was, how everyone was against her, how none of this was her fault. I just wanted to smack her."

"And now you have," Nate pointed out, "and the complaining stopped. At least, temporarily."

"I was going to beg you to not do this, to do anything you want to me, but leave her alone ..."

"And now?" Nate prompted.

Martha cried. "I'm so ashamed." She couldn't continue. Nate was pretty sure she was ashamed about the dominatrix issue. He was willing to bet good money she still wanted him to not have sex with Briana.

Nate pondered a moment. "Maybe I shouldn't have sex with her." Martha's eyes lit up with hope. "Maybe we can work together," he gestured his index finger between himself and Martha, as if they were a team.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if I don't have sex with her because she is not worthy, then ..."

"Oh God, Nate no!" Martha cried out. "Do you know how much that will scar her for life? We talk about gender equality, but still a young woman's self-worth is based so much on how she thinks other people see her. Especially Briana." Martha's eyes pleaded with him. "Please don't do that." Martha's resolved hardened. "I can't be a part of that. I can't let you do that. That's not part of our deal. That's emotional abuse."

Nate smiled at the irony – Martha was pleading 'do not have sex with my daughter' and in the next moment 'do not not have sex with my daughter'. He knew the situation was more nuanced than that, but it still rang peculiar. Martha saw his expression, and only then did she appreciate the trap she had set for herself. 

"Even if we don't tell her why I don't have sex with her," Nate reasoned, "she'll wonder ..." 

"I know," Martha interrupted. "She'll think I upstaged her and you prefer me over her."

"On the other hand, if I don't have sex with her ..."

"She walks away thinking she got away with it, like always, and nothing changes" Martha finished his sentence again. "Poke, poke, poke," she said, lightly tapping herself on her own chest with her index finger. "How did life get this complicated?" Martha asked before pulling a large sip on her wine.

"That's the wrong question," Nate corrected her. "Ask yourself what do you need to do, and what are you prepared to do, to take back control of your life again?"

"I should have held my ground with tough love," Martha suggested to herself.

"And it's not too late," Nate agreed. "I can send her back to lock-up, get my bond money back, and you can cancel your deal, get your passport and money, and go home."

"So it's all in, or all out," And then she just figured it out. Nate took Martha to such a nice restaurant the night before, and was so gentle and loving toward her. He knew she was bound to the apartment from now on. Someone always had to stay with Briana, and that someone was Martha. 

"Pretty much," Nate nodded, "for both of us."

"For all of us," Martha declared solemnly, looking Nate in the eyes. He nodded, understanding her unspoken meaning – go ahead and fuck my daughter. Nate sealed the deal with a kiss, and she returned his kiss with a cold shiver up her spine. 

Nate opened the door, and ushered Martha out the office. Briana was nowhere to be seen, so Martha climbed the stairs to find Briana, dressed in her skirt and white top, lying on the bed. She was rolling her foot side to side, absentmindedly playing with the ankle bracelet. Martha lay down beside her on the large bed without touching Briana or speaking with her. Meanwhile, Nate went to the kitchen and started making supper. 

While supper cooked, Nate checked his email. Another invoice from Thomas Brandt – this one for Briana's bond release – chimed in at just over 4,000 euros, and that wasn't the last of it. Nate transferred the payment electronically. Payment was due upon receipt of the invoice, and Nate wanted to keep Brandt happy in case more trouble was around the corner. 

Nate grabbed his bag of implements he bought from the sex shop, and took it back to the kitchen. Things were cooking nicely, and would be ready in five minutes, he guessed. He called up the stairs for Briana and Martha to come downstairs. From the side of the stairs he watched Briana's legs come down first, followed by Martha's. He called both girls to the center of the room, and told them to stand for inspection. When the both took their position with their hands behind their head, Nate took out a black leather collar from his bag and fastened it around Briana's neck. He adjusted it to fit loosely around her neck without flopping around. It had four metal rings – front, back, left, and right. 

Next Nate fastened leather cuffs around Briana's wrists, which were still behind her head. The cuffs had soft fuzzy padding on the inside, allowing Nate to tighten them snugly around her wrists without hurting Briana. Each wrist cuff also had a metal ring on the outside. Finally, Nate took a steel padlock, unlocked it with its key, and first looped the shackle through the individual loops in her wrist cuffs, and then through the loop on the collar on the back of her neck, and closed the lock. Briana's arms were now firmly bound behind her neck with no hope of escape. 

The padlock came with two identical keys. Nate slipped one key in his pant pocket, and he put the copy in the middle desk drawer in his office. When he returned to the living room, both girls were still in the inspection pose. He walked to Briana and pulled her white tube top down, letting it slide off her large breasts onto her belly. He fondled both tits with his hands and said "This is your punishment for lying about me," Nate said, twisting her nipples gently. "How long you stay like locked up like this depends on you, but count on at least one day," Nate explained. 

"You will be wholly dependent upon your mother," Nate said, momentarily pointing his eyes toward Martha, "to feed you, dress you, bathe you, wipe your ass, and brush your teeth – pretty much everything." Nate paused to let the totality of her dependence upon Martha sink in. "So if I were you," Nate advised, "I would start thinking about how many different ways you can suck up to her, that is" Nate shrugged, "unless you like getting slapped in the face by her." Briana's eyes opened wide with shock as she remembered her previous encounter with Martha, now realizing how totally defenseless she was.

"Do you understand?"

Briana nodded. "I understand," she croaked weakly. 

"Get ready for dinner," Nate advised both girls, and he returned to the kitchen, leaving Briana's breasts exposed. Martha relaxed with her hands beside her, but Briana remained with her wrists locked behind her neck.

Briana turned her shoulders toward Martha, with her hands bound behind her neck. "Mom, can you ..."

"Call me Mistress," Martha interrupted. Nate smiled to himself in the kitchen upon hearing Martha's new dominatrix title. 

"What!?" Briana challenged. 

Martha slapped Briana's unprotected face, not too hard. "You heard me," Martha barked. "Call me Mistress."

Briana squeezed both eyes shut. A whole day of this! This couldn't be happening to her. Briana quickly realized she had no options – eventually she would need to use the bathroom, and it would fall on her mother for help.

The humiliation consumed her, but finally Briana brought herself to say it. "Mistress, pull up my top."

"Say please," Martha ordered, "and ask nicely."

Briana wanted to scream, but she swallowed hard instead. "Mistress, will you please pull up my top?"

Martha grabbed the white tube top, and fitted it over Briana's breasts without touching them herself. "Now, say 'Thank you Mistress'," Martha ordered.

"Thank you Mistress," Briana sang with obvious sarcasm. 

Martha slapped Briana hard across the face, and Briana yelped. "Next time, you will say please and thank you like you mean it," Martha commanded, and then she pulled Briana's white top back down over her belly, exposing her large tits once again. 

Nate asked Martha to set the table. She set places for three, but Nate kept the plates in the kitchen. He served three plates of roasted chicken breasts topped with spinach and feta cheese with risotto on the side. He put the plates on the table, brought the bottle of wine, and gestured the girls to sit. The table was a small square pattern. Each person sat at one side, with the girls sitting adjacent to each other. 

Briana looked at her food with her heads locked behind her head. She felt ashamed sitting at the table topless. Meanwhile Martha and Nate began eating while Nate poured out some wine, but not for Briana. Briana watched, sniffling back the tears, as Nate and Martha ate in silence. 

"Mistress," Briana finally asked, "could you please feed me."

Martha leaned over, picked up Briana's knife and fork, cut a bite of chicken off, added some spinach/cheese topping, and stabbed it with the fork, and held it to Briana's lips. Briana took it into her mouth, and started chewing.

Martha returned to her own plate. "This is very good, Nate," she complimented.

"Thank you," Nate nodded.

"I especially like the rice – it isn't like anything I've had before."

"It is called risotto," Nate explained. "It's rice, but prepared differently, and the grain is different from normal rice."

"It's delicious," Martha pronounced. "I have to look this up back home."

"Mistress," Briana asked, "may I have some risotto please."

"No," Martha said evenly. "You did not thank me for the last bite. After you thank me and then apologize – and I mean a real and honest apology – to our nice host for insulting him with your rude behavior, I will think about feeding you some more."

Briana closed her eyes, and wanted to cry. She took in a deep breath. "Thank you Mistress," she said to Martha with as much feeling as she could muster, "for that wonderful bite of food." Then she turned to Nate. "I am sorry, Nate, for being so rude at the table. Please forgive me."

"Call me Sir from now on," Nate ordered, "and try again."

"I am sorry Sir," Briana said again, "for being so rude. It won't happen again."

"I accept your apology," Nate allowed with a nod, "and that rudeness will cost you an extra hour of this punishment," Nate said, gesturing to her arms locked behind her head.

"Thank your host for being so wise and understanding," Martha ordered Briana.

"Thank you Sir," Briana said to Nate, choking on her tears. Briana closed her eyes and sat in silence. She had lost her appetite. 

Nate filled the silence when he explained risotto came from Italy, and was prepared by cooking it in olive oil, then adding a broth, and then mixing in other food. In this case, Nate added mushrooms and brandy. Briana sat in silence with her naked tits and her arms locked behind her head for the rest of the meal.

Martha helped clean up after dinner while Briana watched some TV Nate turned on for her. He forbade Briana from climbing the stairs – she had to stay on this floor. He tuned in some nature show dubbed into German about the Amazon rain forest. Without the use of her hands, Briana could not do something as simple as operating the remote control to change the channel. 

Nate retreated to his office to do some work to make up for the time he took off this morning. Martha joined Briana on the sofa and watched TV. Briana sulked in silence while Martha channel surfed until she found an old rerun of Friends. Martha's instincts wanted to pull up Briana's tube top to end the humiliation, but she resisted the maternal urge, and let Briana stew in her own predicament. 

Nate finished his work nearly three hours later. Martha was watching the news, and Briana was leaning back into the sofa with her eyes closed with a blanket draped over her for warmth. 

"I suppose it's time to go upstairs," Nate announced. It was almost eleven o'clock. Briana startled awake, took in her surroundings as she strained against her bonds, now remembering her penance. Martha pulled the blanket off Briana, who stood up topless with her hands still bound firmly behind her neck. Nate told Martha to go upstairs. From the top of the stairs, Martha watched Nate follow one step behind Briana. He told her to go up one step at a time, and stop. Next step, and stop. Nate followed behind step by step, and remained alert to catch her in case she stumbled or fell. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 09



Briana made it to the top of the steps without incident. Nate fetched an expandable gate from the hallway closet – it was left over from the previous occupants. Nate guessed they had an infant or a pet. Whatever the case, the gate latched between the top railing baluster and the wall, blocking off the stairs should Briana wake up in the middle of the night and decide to wander. 

Briana's rousing from her nap on the sofa stirred her biological urges, and she suddenly needed to use the bathroom. With her hands locked behind her head, she couldn't even pull her skirt up to prevent an unsightly accident. 

"Mistress," Briana cried softly, "will you please help me go to the bathroom?" 

Martha looked at Nate with a mix of loathing and respect. "Yes," she replied to Briana, "if you behave properly. If I don't hear a proper please and thank you, you are on your own."

"Thank you Mistress," Briana looked to the floor. Martha led Briana into the bathroom, remembering she was not allowed to close the door. She hiked Briana's skirt up to her hips, and Briana carefully lowered her bum to the toilet seat. 

As Martha heard the tinkle of Briana's urine splashing into the bowl, she asked "do you also need to ..." and Briana shook her head no, silently. Both mother and daughter drew a sigh of relief, knowing the respite was temporary. When she finished peeing, Briana opened her legs wide, and Martha tore a stretch of toilet paper off the roll, slipped her hands between Briana's legs, and wiped her feminine parts dry, careful not to touch the bowl or the water. 

"Thank you Mistress," Briana offered again as Martha flushed the toilet. Now Martha needed to go too. While her daughter waited in the bathroom, she sat on the toilet and repeated the process for herself. Martha washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. She asked if Briana had a toothbrush, and Briana gestured with her chin toward a purple one – the one she bought at the Reeperbahn drug store and forgot at the Italian restaurant. 

Martha waited. Finally, Briana clued in. "Mistress, would you please brush my teeth?" It proved a lot clumsier and messier than either girl expected. When it was over, most of Briana's teeth went unbrushed and there was toothpaste all over her face. Martha wiped it clean with a warm wash cloth. "Thank you Mistress," Briana said softly. 

They walked into the bedroom. Nate was already under the covers reading a book. Martha looked at Briana, who said nothing, so Martha undressed and climbed under the covers with Nate. "Mistress," Briana now asked, "could you please undress me?"

"But I am in bed now," Martha offered, looking right at Briana. 

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I should have asked sooner," Briana offered weakly. "Could you please undress me, Mistress?" She was nearly crying.

"I'll do it," Nate said, as he pulled away the duvet, exposing his naked body. He walked naked behind Briana, who faced her mother with her hands locked behind her neck and her tits bare. From behind, Nate wrapped his hands around her chest, and landed them on her breasts, and fondled them while Martha watched from bed. Briana closed her eyes as Nate pinched her nipples between his fingers and gently kneaded her scoops. 

Finally, Nate let his hands slide down her tummy, and he grabbed the white tube top and slid it down her hips, over her skirt, and down her legs, but left around her ankles. Then he unzipped the back of her skirt, and pushed it down her legs, and told her to step out of both garments. Briana nearly fell over when she tried to step out of the skirt around her legs when it snagged on her ankle bracelet. With both feet trapped inside the garment, and no hands to save her, she started toppling over, but Nate caught her by the shoulders, and held her steady while she wrestled to free the skirt and tube top from her ankle bracelet. 

When Briana finally freed herself from the clothing around her ankles, Nate pushed her forward, and she stepped into the end of the bed, but he kept on pushing, and without her arms to stop her, Briana bent forward at the hips, leaving her feet on the ground, and flopped hard into the bed with an "oomph!" Nate slid his fingers down her exposed ass, landing on her sweet pussy, and he wiggled his middle finger in, and soon thrust it up her fuck hole. Then he use two fingers, and digitally fucked Briana from behind while she rested helpless face down on the bed. Nate hadn't thought himself randy after the festivities just before dinner, but his manhood saluted Nate's finger-fucking efforts, and soon his ramrod had grown to its full size. He pulled his fingers out, positioned himself behind Briana's ass, and guided his missile for the soft target. She was already lubricated from his finger fucking, and Nate drove in to her pussy, and started fucking Briana hard from behind while Nate stared at her mother, who watched him in return. 

Nate was thinking about switching to Briana's asshole, but then realized she would not have had an enema today. Nate wasn't into fudge packing, so he saved the thought for another time.

"Get some KY out of my side drawer," Nate told Martha while he fucked Briana hard from behind. Her mother leaned toward the drawer, exposing her naked breasts as she did, and retrieved a tube of KY. Nate told her to bring it over her, and Martha lifted the covers off and padded naked, joining Nate behind Briana. Nate pulled out of Briana and faced Martha. "Suck it clean," he ordered, and Martha gently lowered herself to her knees, took Nate into her mouth, and sucked off her daughter's pussy juices. 

"Bend over like she is," Nate ordered as he took the KY from Martha, "and legs wide." When she was in position, Nate applied a large dollop of KY to his index finger, and smeared it on Martha's rosebud, and then pressed his finger in, and then spun around in place for good measure. Without warning, Nate positioned his cock behind Martha's back door, and drove in. Martha yelped at the suddenness of the intrusion, but quickly relaxed and felt the light, pleasant tingling of being ass fucked. Martha wouldn't exactly describe it as arousing, but it felt good. 

As Nate began fucking Martha's ass in earnest, he was surprised to feel his balls churn, and he decided to go for it. While he fucked Martha up the ass, he instructed Briana to get up, and lie on her back, with her head hanging off the end of the bed, beside her mother. Once Briana was in position, Nate pulled out of Martha's ass, moved over, and touched his cock to Briana's lips. She pursed her lips shut, and moved her head aside. Nate slapped her across the face, not hard for him, but probably harder than Martha had. "Take it," he ordered, and slapped her again. 

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide, and in her inverted position with her hands still locked behind her neck, Briana accepted Nate's rigid cock fresh out of her mother's asshole. He pushed it right to the back of her throat. Mercifully, he didn't leave it there – he pumped it in and out, fucking her open upside-down mouth while he reached with his hands and fondled her big tits. Nate pulled out of Briana's mouth, and returned to Martha's ass, and fucked her hard for another few minutes. When Nate went back to Briana's mouth, this time he reached all the way to her pussy, and finger fucked her while he rammed his stinky cock in and out her mouth.

He returned to Martha's chute again. The third time was the charm, and Nate felt his balls frenzy toward detonation. He grabbed Martha's hips, and rammed her hard from behind, causing her to grunt. At last Nate released his load, and wave after wave of his hot jism filled Martha's deep bowels. When his last orgasmic compression wave passed, Nate slowly fucked his cock in and out of her asshole to lather his shaft with a good coating of semen. Then Nate pulled out, and put his still-hard cock to Briana's lips. This time she took him in without delay, and she cleaned off her mother's anal scent mixed with his jism. 

"That will cost you an extra hour, for turning your face away," Nate reprimanded Briana as he pulled out.

"Yes, Sir," Briana said, still lying naked on her back with her hands bound behind her neck. "Thank you Sir," she added before Martha had to remind her.

Nate set his alarm for 5:30, and climbed back into bed, and invited the girls to join him. Martha crawled under the covers to his left, and Briana to his right, but she could not pull the covers over herself, leaving her pussy and tits exposed to the chilly air. "Mistress," she asked quietly, "could you please pull the covers over me?" Martha leaned over Nate and pulled the duvet over her, and when she finished covering her daughter up, Nate pulled Martha into him and kissed her. Martha kissed him back as Briana thanked her mistress. Still kissing Martha, Nate reached with his right hand between Briana's legs, and fingered again for good measure. She opened her legs in accommodation. 

All three soon fell asleep, although Briana slept poorly in her bound position. Several times her restlessness awoke Nate, and each time she fully awoke him, he finger fucked her again. In the last two times she awoke, Briana lay perfectly still until she fell asleep again, escaping his digital intrusion.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 10



Decisions, Decisions

Nate woke to his 5:30 alarm. He crawled over Briana, who was awake on her back. He dressed quietly in his running gear, and stepped over the safety gate at the top of the stairs, and left the apartment. He put in a long run, and returned just before 7:00. He made some coffee and then climbed over the safety gate again and woke the girls. He told Martha she had 20 minutes to do both their enemas and then he would help Briana in and out of the shower tub. 

With no chance for privacy, Martha administered her own enema in the bathroom while Nate showered right next to her. Once again, she heralded the completion of her enema with a hearty blast into the toilet bowl. Then Martha reloaded the hot water bottle with salt water, and told Briana to bend over. She pushed the lubed probe up her daughter's ass, and waited while the brine filled Briana's bowels. Nate stepped out of the shower and started toweling off just as Briana barked the enema effluence into the toilet bowl with her own measure of embarrassment. 

Still with her hands locked behind her head, Briana could not safely step in and out of the shower without risk of falling down and seriously injuring herself, so Nate wrapped his arms around her belly from behind, and pivoted her into the tub. Tischendorf of the AeB didn't mention anything about the ankle bracelet getting wet, so Nate assumed there was no problem with Briana taking a bath or shower. Martha administered a complete shower and shampoo for Briana while Nate dried and combed his hair. When Briana was done, Nate safely lifted her back out of the tub again. He went to the bedroom to get dressed while Martha showered herself next. Briana stood and waited for Martha's help. 

Once he was dressed, Nate told Martha to grab whatever Briana needed for the day, and he would help her downstairs. Nate removed the safety gate from the top of the stairs, and he stepped backward down the stairs, one step at a time, facing Briana. She stepped down a step at a time, with Nate remained alert in case she stumbled. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Nate admonished Briana from using the stairs without him. Martha, he explained, was not strong enough to catch Briana should she trip and fall.

Nate made some toast and ate a banana while he packed up his work laptop, and then kissed both girls properly goodbye. If the phone rings in the office, he told Martha, answer it. No one uses that number, so if it rings, it would be Nate calling her. He also reminded her to call him if she needed to. Martha asked permission to use his personal laptop to access the Internet. He nodded, and reminded her of the guest password, but warned her not to tell Briana. "Oh," Nate remembered on his way out, "It's time you and Briana shaved again - legs, pussies, and underarms," he clarified, and without waiting for a reply, Nate left Martha in charge of Briana's care as Nate left the apartment for to work. 

Nate arrived back at the apartment after a full day of meetings. Martha was wearing her grey dress. Briana's fashion choices were severely limited with her hands locked behind her head, so she wore the white tube top again with the black skirt. Immediately Nate could smell cooking. 

"I hope you don't mind," Martha explained, "I took the liberty of starting supper."

"Of course I don't mind," Nate assured her, "but I don't expect you to have to cook and clean."

Martha said she enjoys cooking, especially for other people, and was happy to prepare dinner for the three of them. She had prepared potato croquettes, a recipe her mother handed down to her. She found some fresh asparagus and pork chops in the fridge, and was ready to get those started. Nate kissed her delicately on the lips. "Thank you," he smiled. 

Martha reported they had a very uneventful day, which Nate understood to mean boring. "You know," he said, "there is a restaurant on the bottom floor of this building. It is more of a bar, especially in the late night hours, but you can get a steak or a burger there. I think the kitchen closes at eight. Technically," Nate mused, "it's within the building, and certainly within 100 meters of this apartment."

"How about tomorrow?" Martha asked. Nate looked at Briana, who had not yet said a word to him, but nodded her head encouragingly with her arms locked behind her neck.

"As long as our problem child behaves," Nate looked at Briana, "I think that's a plan." Nate waked to Briana and kissed her on the mouth, and she returned the kiss with closed eyes. He pulled away, and looked at the clock on his cell phone. "The lock went on at six last night," Nate told Briana, "which is in 45 minutes, but you have two hours of penalty, so ..."

"Three," interrupted Martha, then she looked at Nate, "if that's okay with you." Nate shot her a quizzical look. "She forgot please and thank you again today," Martha explained.

"Again!" Nate scolded Briana. "That should be three more hours then, for a second offense." Briana looked sullenly at the floor. "Tell you what," Nate offered. "I'll give you a choice. Three more hours, plus the two from yesterday, which means you're locked up until 11 tonight, assuming you don't do anything else wrong, or ..." he paused for effect, "I unlock you right now, but right after dinner you and your mom put on a steaming hot lesbian sex show for me - and I mean a good one. If I'm not convinced by your erotic performance, you'll go back into the cuffs and collar overnight again."

Briana looked at her mom. "Don't ask her," Nate anticipated Briana's next move. "This is your decision." As Nate looked at Briana' arms locked behind her neck, he noticed appreciatively her underarm stubble was gone - he imagined Martha doing double duty shaving both of them, and looked forward to checking their other regions.

"I can do it," Briana looked at her mother, then at Nate, "but if you want me to make it really hot - to make us look like we're really into it - then it will take a bit more." Nate waited. "You give me a pass that I can use when I want so you don't punish me."

"A get-out-of-jail card," Nate nodded.

"Whatever," Briana shrugged. "You release me now, give me a pass, or a card, and you give my mom two passes she can use whenever she wants, and then we'll both put on a hot lesbian sex show that you won't forget."

Nate paused in thought. "Okay," he agreed. "But the pass doesn't work for lying," Nate added as an afterthought. "In fact, if you lie, not only do I punish you, but you lose your get-out-of-jail card."

Briana looked at her mother again and shrugged. "Okay," she said. Martha scowled bitterly at her daughter. "Hey," Briana replied defensively, "he was going to make us do it sometime anyway," she reasoned, "at least now you get something for it."

Nate fished in his pocket for the key, but he had changed trousers since yesterday, and didn't have the padlock key in this pair of pants, so he went to his office and retrieved the spare key, and unlocked Briana's padlock, then removed her collar and cuffs. 

Briana lowered her arms for the first time in nearly 24 hours, and moved them in large circles, trying to regain the feeling in them. "Thank you, Sir," she remembered to say, avoiding needing her get-out-of-jail card so quickly. Nate massaged her shoulders, explaining it would help restore the circulation to her limbs. 

Martha walked right up to Nate. "So now I have to have hot sex with my own daughter," she scolded, "but I have two passes, where if I do something wrong, you don't punish me." Nate nodded. Martha reached her left hand behind Nate's neck and gently pulled him down toward her as she tenderly reached her right hand toward his face, closed her eyes and opened her mouth to kiss him. As he leaned to return her kiss, Martha slapped Nate as hard as she could across his face. Nate recoiled with surprise. "Now I have one pass," Martha announced without a smile, turned, and walked away. Briana woofed out a monosyllable laugh. 

Nate watched Martha walk to the kitchen where she started cooking dinner. He admired Martha's technique. If she had just wound up and slapped him, he would have instinctively blocked her arm with his. His reflexes were far too quick to have let that happen. As he played it back in his mind, Nate visualized her puckering up for a kiss, her right hand reaching affectionately for his face, but it was off to the side, which gave her more wind-up time to slap him harder. He noticed this discrepancy in the moment when it occurred, but Nate sensed it was just a quirk. Not a single neuron in his highly refined warrior brain alerted him to the imminent danger in plain sight. Nate was completely sucked in. 

"Touché" Nate said aloud to Martha, nodding his genuine respect for being so thoroughly outwitted. Martha didn't turn to face him, but smiled broadly, relishing the moment. 

Martha hadn't offered to cook out of some altruistic duty, but mostly she was bored. Sitting around Nate's apartment all day babysitting Briana was not her idea of a stimulating European vacation. Not that this was intended to be a vacation, but Martha came over with hopes of seeing at least some of the sights. Making meals occupied her time with something.

They ate quietly. Both the girls were grateful Briana did not have to rely on Martha to eat. Finally Martha broke the silence. "We made some progress about Briana's school loan today," she told Nate, which in truth mean Martha had made the progress while Briana watched TV. "I went online, and found out what we need to do. We need to make some phone calls to England. I wasn't sure if I could use the phone in your office for long distance."

"No," Nate shook his head, "you can't use that phone. I will give you a VOIP phone you can use," Nate offered. 

"What's VOIP?" Martha asked. 

"Voice over IP," Nate explained. "It is an Internet phone." 

They fell back into silence for the rest of the meal. Nate asked the girls to help him clean up, which just meant putting the dirty dishes in the sink and putting everything else away. When they finished, Martha announced she was taking Briana upstairs, and they would prepare for the next event. 

Nate had thought about the pros and cons of where the girls should perform their sex act, and he finally decided the living room was best. While the girls were upstairs, Nate retrieved his camera and a tripod from his office. He set up the tripod with a quick release, so he could pick up the camera and walk around with it, or set it back on the tripod. He turned on all the lights, and checked the lighting through the viewfinder. It would be fine. 

Then Nate went upstairs. The girls were in the bathroom applying makeup while he went to the bedroom and retrieved an assortment of dildos and butt plugs, grabbed a tube of KY, and brought it all downstairs. He moved the coffee table away from the sofa, so there was an unobstructed view of the action zone. Then he moved a matching ottoman beside the sofa, and laid out the sex toys and lube on it. Nate changed his mind, thinking the ottoman might be a good prop to start on, so he moved the sex toys to the sofa, and pulled the ottoman away. With nothing left to do, Nate picked up a book, sat down, and read. 

"Where do you want us?" Martha called down the stairs. Nate called back to come downstairs. He released the camera off the tripod, set it on video mode, and stepped off to the side. He wanted to catch just their legs coming down first, and then their full bodies at the bottom. He heard the first step down the stairs, and Nate started recording the video. He saw Martha's legs first, wearing Kate's black high heels she wore to the restaurant on Sunday night, then her black leather skirt. Briana's legs in her blue high heels were next, accessorized by her ankle bracelet. 

When they reached the bottom, Nate framed them head to toe in the picture. Briana was wearing her blue pinstriped button up shirt and black skirt, and Martha was wearing her black leather skirt and vest. "So," Martha announced to the camera at the bottom of the stairs, "we're here for the party."

"You are the party," Nate smiled from behind the camera. "Come on in and make yourselves comfortable," he gestured toward the sofa with an open palm, still keeping the camera trained on the girls with his other hand. 

Martha drew Briana close, and they kissed each with open mouths. Nate zoomed in for a better look, and then back out again, and the girls broke their embrace. Martha surveyed the living room, taken aback over the sex toys for a brief moment. "One of you sit on the ottoman facing me," Nate directed from behind the camera, "and the other one stand behind, and you can get started."

Briana sat on the ottoman facing Nate, and Martha stood behind her, and bent forward. Briana leaned back with her hands resting behind her, and their lips met again. This time, Martha dropped both hands over Briana's shirt, and fondled her breasts through the fabric. Nate's manhood instantly sprung to life at sight of the erotic mother daughter coupling, but he remained focused on his cameraman duties. 

After a few seconds, Martha pulled her hands up to Briana's neck, and slid them back down her chest again, this time inside her shirt, and cupped Briana's naked breasts beneath the fabric. Nate, and the camera, heard a fake moan from one of them, he guessed Briana. Now Martha stepped forward a bit, pressing her legs against the ottoman, and that gave Briana something to lean against, relieving her hands from bracing her weight behind her. Briana reached up to Martha's vest, and undid the buttons while Martha continued to fondle Briana's large tits beneath her shirt.

To Nate's delight, Martha was not wearing her black tank top beneath her vest, and when Briana unfastened the vest buttons, the lapels hung open, revealing Martha's firm tits. Martha returned the favor, and unbuttoned Briana's shirt, and the sides fell away as she slowly worked her way down the buttons, revealing her daughter's full-sized tits to the camera. 

They groped each other's bare nipples and breasts for almost a minute, until Martha peeled off her vest, leaving her topless, and Briana did the same with her shirt. Martha whispered something to Briana, and then Briana repositioned herself, with her butt completely off the ottoman, and she was lying on her back, looking up. Briana kept her feet flat on the floor for balance. 

Martha straddled over Briana's head, giving Briana a perfect up-skirt view of Martha's pussy. Then Martha bent forward at the hips, keeping her legs straight, and grabbed the sides of Briana's skirt, and hiked all the way up, exposing her naked pussy. With her skirt no longer confining her thighs together, Briana spread her legs wide open, still keeping her high-heeled feet on the floor for balance. Nate repositioned himself in line with Briana's freshly shaved pussy, and then lowered himself to one knee, getting a better camera angle. 

Martha's tits dangled deliciously from her chest as she bent over, and Nate zoomed in for a close-up as Martha started rubbing her slender fingers up and down the outer folds of her daughter's naked twat. He made sure to keep Martha's hanging tits in the frame. As he zoomed out, Nate captured Briana fingers sliding up the inner edges of Martha's thighs in the background, disappearing into her skirt, and her arm continued moving up, up, up, until she certainly had to be playing with her mother's pussy.

Closer to the camera Martha started rubbing Briana's clit, and Briana moaned appreciatively as her hips rocked ever so gently. After a half minute or so of clitoral stimulation, Martha gently dug her thumb and middle finger on either side of Briana's still closed lips, and using her fingers, Martha spread Briana's pink pussy wide open, giving Nate's camera a perfect up-the-fuck-hole shot. He zoomed the super-hi-res camera all the way in, capturing every miniscule fold, nook, and feature in excruciating detail.

With Briana's pussy still split wide open with her left hand, Martha started delicately tracing her right middle finger all the way up and down Briana's inner-most sanctum. Nate backed out his zoom, still framing a close-up Briana's crotch and ass, and Martha still tickling the centerline of Briana's forbidden place.

At last Martha poked a finger into Briana's already open fuck hole, and pumped it in and out a few times. Now Nate zoomed back out, taking in Martha's face and hanging tits as a second finger joined the pussy drilling action. Martha pulled her fingers right out, brought them to her mouth, and sucked on them, looking right into Nate's lens, and then she returned to finger fucking her daughter. Nate zoomed out some more, and Briana still had her hands up her mother's skirt.

Martha pulled her fingers out of Briana's fuck hole, released her pussy lips with her other hand, stood upright, and sucked her fingers clean one last time for the camera. She dismounted her straddle over Briana, and they conspired in whispers once more, and Briana now stood up.

They took off their skirts, leaving them naked except their high-heeled shoes and Briana's ankle bracelet. Now Martha knelt down on the ottoman, facing away from the camera, and spread her legs as much as the ottoman would allow. Then Martha bent forward until her hands were flat on the floor, and then she bent forward some more, until she rested her own elbows on the floor. This posture left Martha's exposed ass high up over the ottoman, and bending over as far as she did, her pussy split open nicely, and her separated ass cheeks gave a perfect view of her pink rosebud. 

Nate zoomed in, and admired the good job Martha had done on shaving herself. Martha asked Briana to fetch a throw pillow from the sofa, and Martha placed the pillow underneath her elbows to cushion herself from the hardwood floor. Briana went to the assortment of dildos on the sofa, and retrieved two dildos - a large, life-sized natural colored cock with a ball sack at the base, and a thinner, stainless steel thin cigar shaped dildo with a curved slim handle that came out at right angles at one end. Briana also retrieved the tube of KY, and taking a page from her mother's playbook, grabbed another throw pillow, and kneeled on it beside her mother's ass to cushion her knees. 

Briana started with the large cock dildo, and gently rubbed it up and down her mother's open pussy with one hand, and unscrewed the tube of KY with her other hand. Briana applied a light coating of KY to just the tip of the phallus, and then positioned it over Martha's fuck hole. Nate zoomed in as Briana started fucking her own mother with the dildo, and Martha moaned very slightly on each thrust. 

Briana dildo fucked her mother for a good minute, and then she withdrew the cock from Martha's pussy, leaving her fuck hole slightly open. Briana turned her head upward slightly, opened her mouth wide, and took as much of the nine inch dildo as she could. She pursed her lips tightly around the shaft, and slowly pulled it out of her mouth, leaving it sparkling clean. 

Next Briana took the slender stainless steel dildo, and lubed it well with KY, and then positioned it to Martha's lonely rosebud. She pushed it half way in, and Nate heard Martha gasp at the invasion. Then, using the perpendicular, curved, pencil thin handle, Briana started ass fucking her mother. As she pumped the metallic dildo in and out of Martha's chute, Briana picked up the first dildo again, and this time reached between her own legs, and Briana fucked her own pussy while she continued ass fucking her mother. Nate zoomed out to frame the entire delicious scene. 

Briana fucked herself and ass-fucked her mother for a few more minutes, and then pulled the dildo out of her own pussy, and sucked it clean for the camera, and then Briana pushed her mother's dildo all the way up her ass. The curved, pencil thin, metallic handle followed the contour of her ass crack, as it was designed to do, and prevented the dildo from disappearing inside her bowel.




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 10



"Is that enough?" Briana asked. 

"One more thing," Nate replied from behind the camera. He returned the camera to the tripod, and fixed its view upon the sofa. "Get on the sofa in a 69 position," he told both girls. "I'll be right back." He ran upstairs two by two, and retrieved the bullet vibrator from the bedside table. Then he went into the hallway closet, and found a plug-in electric vibrator - a big one the size and shape of a large professional microphone - that Kate had left behind. He retrieved an extension cord, and returned downstairs. 

The girls were already lying down with Martha on the bottom, and Briana in the other direction on top. They had removed their shoes. Nate plugged in the extension cord to a power plug, and plugged the vibrator into it, and handed it to Martha on the bottom. Then he turned on the bullet vibrator, and handed it to Briana on top. 

"Make each other come," he ordered them. "Really try, and coach each other along," he explained, "but don't fake it. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen."

"This would be much easier on the bed upstairs," Martha announced from below. Briana agreed. Nate stopped the video, and relocated the girls, vibrators, the camera, and tripod to the bedroom. When he started filming again, they were lying on their sides, end-to-end, facing each other's pussies. 

As they started massaging each other's pussies with the vibrators, Nate walked the camera around the bed, taking in all the angles. Then he pulled a chair to the end of the bed, and stood on it, affording him a commanding view from above as mother and daughter went to work on their mutual masturbation. They were guiding each other with single words, like 'higher', 'slower', 'left', and so on. 

Martha had one knee up, one leg straight, while Briana clenched both legs straight. The plug-in wand vibrator was more forgiving - it was powerful and big enough to set a large area of flesh aquiver, whereas the bullet vibrator had to be exactly over its mark. As a result, Briana started approaching climax under the power of Martha's large vibrator before Martha felt anything remotely orgasmic. As Briana closed in on an eruption, she stopped massaging her mother with the bullet vibrator, and rolled onto her back, and now Martha focused all her attention on bringing her daughter to climax. 

"Faster!" Briana breathed as Martha was rubbing the round head of the wand vibrator up and down her clit, and Martha dutifully sped up her oscillations. "Harder!" Briana grunted, and Martha dug the end into Briana's soft flesh. "Oh fuck yes!" Briana cried with her eyes shut, "just like that," and Briana started playing with her own tits while Nate filmed from overhead.

Martha rubbed the vibrator quickly, back and forth over her daughter's pleasure point for at least another two minutes while Briana stimulated her own nipples with her fingers. Briana's breathing grew faster and deeper until suddenly, Briana sucked in a huge breath and then held it while her back arched upwards, lifting her hips off the bed. A carnal explosion detonated between Briana's legs and blasted orgasmic shockwaves in all directions, sending shivers to the tips of every extremity. She grabbed the vibrator between her legs, stopped her mother from moving it back and forth, and jammed it hard into her clit, driving the seismic waves of the vibrator through the million hypersensitive nerves that ended in her clit. A second wave of full-body orgasm gripped Briana. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she wailed, end even her toes and fingers tingled with climactic release. It took a full 30 seconds before Briana let out her breath, and she gently lowered her hips back to the bed. 

"Oh my fucking God!" Briana cried out with delirium. Her eyes were still closed. Several seconds later she opened her eyes, and saw Nate perched overhead with his camera still rolling, and Briana realized for a euphoric moment she had completely forgotten about her surroundings. 

"The forbidden fruits always taste the best," Nate pontificated from behind the camera. Briana wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but she thought she had better save her one pass.

When Briana's breathing had settled down to a light pant, Nate told Martha to give the electric vibrator to Briana, and told Briana it was her turn to return the favor to her mother. 

Martha lay on her back while Briana kneeled on the bed, facing her mother's right side. Wielding the buzzing vibrator in her right hand, Briana leaned forward and started massaging Martha's pussy, and Martha coached Briana through one-word instructions.  

Nate stepped off the chair, and mounted the camera on the tripod. This lower angle still afforded him a good shot of Martha's pussy, but now he also captured every motion of Briana's pair of heavy hangers as she kneeled over Martha. They swayed and jiggled as she rubbed the buzzing vibrator wand back and forth over or mother's delicate folds. This lower angle also caught glimpses of the shiny curved handle of the metallic dildo still invading Martha's anus.

The heavy duty wand vibrator overpowered Martha's inhibitions, and soon enough she felt the sexual pressure building between her legs. Sensing her increased tension, Briana sped up the back-and-forth movement of the wand vibrator, and dug the round head deeper into the top end of Martha's delicate pussy lips. Martha's hands balled up into hard fists and her back arched as the anticipation pressure intensified. 

Another minute of the wand vibrator put Martha tantalizingly within reach of climax. She scrunched her eyes closed with prickly tension. Nate told Briana to keep massaging her with the wand, but now to kiss Martha at the same time. As Martha felt her daughter's lips touch her own, she wrapped her arms around Briana's head, and pulled her face toward her own, and thrust her tongue deep into Briana's open mouth, probing for her tonsils. This new forbidden sensation pushed Martha over the edge, and the resulting orgasmic fireball consumed every fiber in her body. She moaned loudly into Briana's kissing mouth, who still managed to massage Martha's clit steadily with the vibrating wand. Even Martha's hair tingled with erotic pleasure as wave after wave of carnal pleasure washed over her quivering physique. 

At last Martha's orgasmic convulsions faded, and she released Briana's head from her bear hug, and dropped her arms limp to her side. Briana rolled off her mother, and lay beside her on the bed. Nate went stopped the video, and picked up the still vibrating wand, and turned it off. He found the bullet vibrator, and turned it off too. 

Nate pulled out a quilt from the bedroom closet, and covered over the naked girls. Their collective warmth under the blanket felt inviting, and they embraced each other in post orgasmic bliss. Nate quietly tidied up and then went downstairs to restore the living room while mother and daughter, spent of their energy, momentarily drifted asleep in each other's arms. 

Martha awoke only a few minutes later, went to the bathroom, and extracted the metallic phallus from her ass, and left it in the sink. Sometime later Nate washed and sterilized it with the other dildo before putting them away.

Martha pulled on her grey dress, and picked up her clothing downstairs. Then she walked to the doorway to Nate's office without going in. Briana remained upstairs under the warm quilt. Nate was transferring the video files off the camera. 

"Do you keep those files on your laptop?" Martha asked, worried about accidental exhibition of her video files. 'Here, look at this video of this cathedral' she was thinking, then 'oops! That wasn't it.'

"No," Nate shook his head. "The files are too big, and it is not secure enough. I have an encrypted disk server," he pointed to an enclosure inside an open closet, "for my personal files." Martha briefly wondered who else featured in his homemade porn movies on the disk server, but then decided she didn't want to know.

"You said you have a phone we can use to call England," Martha changed subjects. 

"Yeah," Nate waved her in, and she sat down. Nate pulled out an LG cell phone and matching charger from his center desk drawer. "It has no SIM card," Nate explained, "so you can't make regular phone calls on it." He pressed the power button and waited a minute for it to boot up. 

"Here," he pointed to a green icon of a phone on the screen. "Press this," as he did, and a phone app popped up on the screen. "Now you can use this like a normal phone, but only in this apartment. It won't work anywhere else, unless you sign in to whatever wifi is around."

Just to test it, Nate called his own cell phone, and he heard the ringtone sing out from his pants pocket. He hung up the VOIP phone without answering his own call. "44 is the country code for the UK," Nate explained, "you would dial '+44' before the area code and phone number. '020' is the area code for London, but be careful - some people tell you it is '0207' or '0208'. It isn't really. They are actually telling you the area code plus the first digit of the phone number. London phone numbers are actually eight digits long, but ..."

"Yes, I know," Martha cut him off from further instruction. 

Nate realized Martha probably called Briana all the time when Briana attended school in London. "Here you go," Nate handed her the phone and charger. 

"Thank you," Martha nodded and stood to leave the room, and then stopped as another thought occurred to her. "You don't mind if I use this to call friends and family back home?" Martha checked.

"No problem," Nate allowed, "but only you - I don't want Briana using this phone, except to sort out her school loan, and even then, only when you are supervising. That is the only time she is allowed to use this phone."

"Got it," Martha nodded again, and left Nate's office.

"In fact," Nate called after Martha, who returned to the office. He took the phone back from her, and configured a lock screen with a four digit number: 6749. Martha would have to type in that combination each time she wanted to use the phone, and she was not permitted to share the number with Briana. He showed her how to unlock the phone, and then gave the pone back to her. 

"What if I forget the combination," Martha asked. 

"Just spell out ORGY on the numeric keypad," Nate replied without even a smirk. Martha closed her eyes, took in a cleansing breath, and then left the room and put the locked phone in her suitcase upstairs. 

- - - 

Nate woke on Wednesday morning at 5:30. He dressed in his workout clothes, and went to the gym. He had returned to his apartment by 7:00, and at 7:20 Nate stepped out of the shower, dried off, and walked naked into the bedroom where both girls still lay sleeping. Briana was on her back, and Martha was sleeping on her side across the far side of the bed.

Nate went to Briana's side of the bed, and pulled the duvet down, exposing her deliciously large and firm tits. Briana stirred at the sudden chill, and Nate fondled one tit, then the other. That started to wake Briana up. Before she could say a word, Nate kneeled onto the bed, and pressed his growing cock against Briana's lips. 

"Piss off," Briana growled in her half-sleeping stupor, and pushed Nate away. Nate reached for her left nipple and pinched it hard between his thumb and finger, and Briana screamed out loud.

"That will be punishment for both of you tonight," Nate proclaimed, as Martha was only barely becoming conscious. Briana brought her right hand over the left tit, and rubbed it therapeutically, trying to ease out the lingering pain.

"What?" Martha whispered hoarsely, but Nate had moved on. He was pulling his underwear on, and soon had his socks and pants on before Martha could sit up. "What happened?" she asked to anyone in the room.

"He put his cock in my mouth," Briana protested. "I wasn't even awake. It's not fair," she whined, still rubbing her left nipple.

Nate pulled his shirt on and went downstairs for coffee and breakfast. He was just finishing his toast when Martha came down the stairs in her grey dress. "I know we are to accept whatever punishment you decide," she started, "but for once I agree with Briana - what you did was not fair. At least wake us up properly first," Martha protested.

"Anything, anytime," Nate retorted tersely, "plus the rules." Realizing she would make no headway, Martha poured herself a coffee and walked back for the stairs. "The cleaner lady is coming today," Nate reminded her. Martha just nodded as she climbed the stairs with her coffee.

"What an asshole," Briana bitched as Martha entered the loft bedroom. Martha shushed Briana with her finger to her lips, pantomiming that Nate was still downstairs. "You know he's just doing this to make us use our pass," Briana whispered, thick with attitude. Martha didn't like Briana's whining tone, but privately admitted her analysis was probably dead on. 

When she finished her coffee, Martha went to the bathroom and retrieved the enema kit. She showered and cleaned the kit after she was done. She dropped the clean kit on the bed covers on top of Briana.

"I'm not doing that," Briana sniped. 

"Yes you will," Martha warned, "because if he comes home and ... you know ... and finds you ... you know ... plugged up there, he will punish us both again." 

Briana thought about the consequences of an ass-to-mouth action if she hadn't cleansed herself. "I'm going to wait, then" she said, "until mid-afternoon. That way I'll still be fresh when he comes home." Martha sighed, realizing two things at once: first, Briana was right; and second, how did it ever come to this - what kind of fucked-up world did she live in to even have this conversation with her own daughter?

"What do you think our punishment will be?" Briana asked.

"Put that out of your head," Martha counseled her. "Focus on your student loan payment."

"It's not fair," Briana whined.

"Focus," her mother nagged. 

"I don't see why I have to be punished for something while ..."

Martha slapped Briana across the face. "Stop your bitching and start paying attention to getting us both out of here," Martha lectured her, "or I swear to God I will send you back to jail and I will go back home, and we will never speak or see each other ever again."

Briana regarded her mother with cold, half closed eyes. "You've changed," she finally accused her mother.

"One of us had to," Martha snapped back, letting the unspoken accusation hang in the room. "Now, get dressed and get to work."

Martha was making breakfast when Briana came downstairs wearing her blue pinstripe shirt and black skirt. "I need some laundry," she reported, but it sounded like a whine.

"Me too," Martha nodded. "We'll figure it out after breakfast." 

They ate in silence until Briana said what they were both thinking. "So wasn't that the most incredible orgasm you ever had?"

"Un-fucking-believable," Martha blurted out.

"Mom!" Briana gaped. Martha never swore in front of her daughter before.

"Like you said, I've changed."

"Buy one of those, and you'd never need a man again," Briana returned to the vibrator topic.

"I'm not sure it's as simple as that," Martha countered, "but I know what you mean."

"He used this tiny one on me, before," Briana relayed, "and it worked, but not like this one," she gestured the size of the large vibrator, measuring the distance between her two hands. "I guess size does matter," Briana smirked.

"So," Martha pivoted the conversation, "you have to make some phone calls this morning. Nate gave me a phone you can use for long distance." 

"Great!" Briana cheered. "Now I can call my friends."

"No," Martha shook her head, "Nate was very specific - school business calls only. For all I know, he will check the Internet logs." 

"What a control freak," Briana whined. 

"That control freak is paying tens of thousands of dollars to keep you out of jail," Martha cautioned her, "at a steep price, I know. Still, you best change your attitude toward him while you're in his custody."

"Speaking of steep prices," Briana looked at Martha, "why are you even here? I thought you disowned me."

"I stayed up all night when I found out you were in jail," Martha looked at the floor in reflective thought. "I almost didn't come, but in the end I decided I couldn't live with myself if I stayed home and let you rot in some European prison."

"How did you even find out?" 

"Your lawyer called me," Martha explained. "At first I thought it was a scam, you know, someone phones pretending to be a lawyer representing your daughter in jail, and send money now. But then he mentioned the London School of Economics debt, and I doubted a scam artist would know about that, and he wasn't actually asking for money - he said your fees were already paid." She paused. "And by the way, I thought you were in Amsterdam."

"I was," Briana relayed how she met Pavlina, and their encounter with the two guys who stole their money and phones, and their ride to Hamburg, and their chance meeting with Nate.

"So this Pavallina girl," Martha still mispronounced her name, "disappeared into nowhere even after Nate paid all her fines and bought her a plane ticket home?"

"Looks like it," Briana nodded, "and I went to jail for it." Thomas Brandt had explained that unfortunate turn of events to Martha when he called her in Canada. 

"You pull a stunt like that and I will disown you," Martha warned Briana.

"So what's your deal with Nate," Briana asked. 

Martha did not want to tell Briana that Nate would hold Martha captive until Briana fulfilled her AeB obligation and Nate's 20,000 euro bond was returned. It gave Briana leverage over Martha, and Martha knew her daughter too well. "To get you out of here," was all Martha said. 

"And in return, you become his sex toy like me," Briana observed.

"Obviously," Martha pointed out.

"And did Nate make or pressure you do this?" Briana asked.

"No," Martha shook her head. "Not in the least."

"You know I will never be able to pay you back," Briana offered truthfully.

"Smarten up and stop whining like spoiled bitch all the time," Martha snapped bitterly, "and we'll talk about it."

"And you'll stop hitting me?" Briana brought her hand to her cheek.

"Suck it all up. Do what Nate says. Do what I say. Don't whine. Don't dish out attitude. Actually do what you promised to do," Martha scolded her daughter, "and I won't hit you."

"And when he wakes up jamming his cock against my lips ..."

"He's testing you," Martha interrupted, "don't you see that? He is seeing how much you have accepted. He'll do the same to me. He wants you to obey him from the instant you wake up to the last moment before you fall asleep." Briana remained silent. "So the next time, open your mouth and suck him, like you promised him you would do."

"Such motherly advice," Briana quipped sarcastically. Martha slapped her. "What was that for?!" Briana cried out loud.

"You figure it out," Martha picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen.

"Come on, Mom, I was just making a joke," Briana called after her. "Lighten up a little."

"Lighten up?!" Martha snarled, "I'm on my back doing unspeakable sex acts because of you, and you want me to lighten up?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Briana snapped back.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Martha marched angrily toward Briana. Briana cringed, thinking her mother was going to hit her again, but Martha stood inches from Briana's face. "You brought all this on yourself - you ran off to Europe after you stole my money. You fucked around with Amsterdam boys you didn't know and you let them steal your things. You offered yourself to Nate, and then lied about it. You walked away from a scholarship and never paid it back. This is all you, Briana. Every last bit of it was because of your poor life choices."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 10



"So?" Briana asked defensively. "I am paying for it now, aren't I?"

"It hasn't occurred to you once," Martha seethed, "not even once, what I must be going through."

"You're my mom," Briana shrugged. "You're supposed to ..."

"No," Martha snapped back, her finger pointing at Briana with anger, "I am not supposed to clean up your mess for the rest of my life. You left home. That was when I was supposed to stop cleaning up your shit, but here I am."

"You're here because of my bad life choices," Briana snapped angrily. 

"For the life of me I don't know why, but yes," Martha reprimanded her. "I am still cleaning up your stupid shit."

"And this stupid shit is my fault?"

"It was your scholarship, your decision to go to Amsterdam, your offer to Nate," Martha yelled at her, "or are to such a spoiled bitch you can't even see that much?"

"And you," Briana shouted back, inches from her face, "always clean up my shit."

"Yes!" Martha yelled back, "and I'm sick and tired of it."

"Because I make bad life choices," Briana continued. 

"All the time!" Martha bellowed with her arms raised high.

"But you never make bad life choices!" Briana accused her mother with rage.

"I made one - YOU!" Martha yelled.

Her words echoed around the room while the two of them stared at each other. If ever there was a moment she could turn back time, this was the one.

"Well," Briana nodded quietly, backing away from her mother slowly, "at last you have the decency to admit it."

"Oh Briana!" Martha cried, wishing she had never said that. 

"No!" Briana held her hand up as a 'stop' signal to her mother. "I get it. I've been this monster fuck-up all my life, and you have wasted your perfect existence protecting the world from me."

"Briana I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ..."

"You still don't get it do you?" Briana snapped Martha's own words back at her. Martha froze, completely unaware of what was coming. "You don't have a fucking clue what it's like to grow up with you as a mom, do you?" 

"Briana, I did the best I ..."

"It's not what you did," Briana cut her off, "it's who you are." Martha reeled in confusion. She was completely dumbfounded. "You really don't know?" Briana asked incredulously. Martha shook her head in silence.

"Every boyfriend I ever had - every single one," Briana accused her with her wagging finger, "wanted to fuck you more than me."

"What! Briana, that's ..."

"That's sick, I know" Briana interrupted. "Mom, you are the hottest woman I know. Even at 45, you're better looking than me at 28. Even naked, Nate stares at your body instead of mine."

"Briana that's not true."

"IT IS TRUE!" Briana screamed. "I had boyfriends who asked me if I could arrange it so they could fuck you. Billy Thompson asked me to arrange a three way with you."

"Billy?" Martha asked incredulously. "The boy with the flaming skateboard?" The skateboard had real flames coming out the back, not just a paint job. Billy set himself on fire once, and that was that.

"That wasn't the only thing that was on fire, Mom" Briana complained, realizing she still wasn't getting it. "Jake ... Jake 'whats-his-name' told me the only part of me he liked better than you was my tits, because mine were bigger."

"Oh Briana, tell me you didn't ..."

"No," Briana sighed. "I kicked him in the nuts. I didn't really like him that much."

Martha smiled, but then replayed the story again, and her face turned stern. "You let Jake see your breasts?" she asked accusingly. 

"Jesus, Mom" Briana wailed with frustration. "You still don't get it, do you?" Martha shook her head with morbid trepidation at what was coming. "The only way I could keep a boyfriend interested in me was to DO him," she emphasized the word 'do'.

"Oh my God!" Martha brought her hands to her mouth. "You ... you fucked all those boys?"

"No," Briana shook her head slowly, looking off to the side as she recalled a swarm of distant memories, "but I sure did suck 'em."

"You gave all those boys blowjobs?" She asked incredulously.

"Not at first," she looked off, remembering, "but starting on my eighteenth birthday, I figured out how to make them like me more than you." Briana paused in a swirl of memories. "You remember Jeremy?" Martha nodded. She liked Jeremy. He was very polite and respectful. "One day," Briana recounted, "you were watching TV. You remember that brown recliner chair you had?" Martha nodded. "You were lying back in that. Jeremy and I were in the back yard. He asked me to suck him while he stared at you through the window."

"Oh my God!" Martha felt sick. "You didn't do that?" 

"He said it was the best orgasm he ever had," Briana boasted proudly. "Jeremy broke up with me maybe a week after that, but I bumped into him at the end of school. He told me he jerked off every night fantasizing about you. He promised me would go out with me all summer and treat me real nice if I convinced you to have sex with him."

There was a time when Martha would have bolted to the bathroom and chucked her breakfast, but the trials of the last week had hardened her constitution. She swallowed hard, fighting her stomach's urge to expel its charge. "Just how many boyfriends did you ... ah ..."

"Twelve," Briana answered, "by the time I finished high school."

"Oh, my!" Martha proclaimed with both shock and sympathy, "and you 'DID' all of those boys?" 

"No," Briana explained. "I only started the day I turned eighteen. But after that, I made up for lost time. By the time I graduated I was known as 'Oral B'." Briana paused. "So, you see Mom, I do know something about what you're going through, since I basically blew all those guys because of you."

"Now, wait one minute!" Martha scolded her daughter, "I didn't know about any of that. That was your choice to engage with oral sex with them. That's another example of your life decisions."

"Right," Briana nodded, "just as you coming here to rescue your one life mistake of an unwanted daughter was your life decision."

"Please don't say that," Martha felt daggers in her heart. "I always loved you."

"I know you did, Mom," Briana answered quietly, "but one thing has nothing to do with the other. I was a mistake - an unwanted child that you still loved. I always knew you loved me. I just wish you had told me the truth before now. I would have respected you."

"And when would that have been?" Martha snapped. "When you were four, or seven? How about ten or twelve? When is the right moment to shatter your child's sense of identity?" 

"Come on, Mom. You saw me rotate through so many boyfriends," Briana challenged. "You had to know something was up. I already knew it, but I needed to hear it from you. That would have been a good time to talk to me about who I really was."

"Maybe," Martha bobbed her head side to side slightly. "I can see how that might make sense, now. But you aren't considering that you started asking about your dad a lot back then. You aren't thinking about your hospitalization for your pneumonia, and how unsettled you were for months after that. I had to think about both of those things, and a million more, when I was trying to decipher your encrypted teenage behavior. That's the problem with hindsight," Martha lectured her. "It filters the past by removing the fog of uncertainty that clouds every decision. Everything is clearer and easier in hindsight. But with all those things going on - oh! and I forgot about your dog Ringo who had just died - do you remember how devastated you were? Do you honestly think a rational parent would go 'hey, with all this other stuff going on, I guess now's a good a time as any to pile on more hurt by telling my daughter she was a mistake, because everyone knows that's a sure way to stop her from sucking off all her boyfriends'. Come on, Briana, we both know you aren't that naïve."

"Fine," Briana snorted. "But don't get all sanctimonious on me about how I ruined your perfect life."

"I never did," Martha explained honestly. "And if you think me being here, keeping you in line with your own promises, trading your freedom for sex is me being sanctimonious, then you need a new dictionary. We both have something at stake here, and I want you to live up to your side of the bargain so we both win."

"Whatever," Briana rolled her eyes dismissively and turned away. 

"Okay, you know what?" Martha proclaimed. "This tender little mother/daughter moment is over. It's Mistress to you from now on."

Briana wanted to tell her mom to fuck off, but she knew that wouldn't end well. Yes, Mistress," she answered instead. 

Martha told Briana to clean up the breakfast dishes while she figured out the laundry. It looked simple enough - a high efficiency, front loading washing machine and a stacked drier. She retrieved her washable clothes, and told Briana to do the same, and started a load.

Martha retrieved the VOIP phone Nate gave her, and unlocked it. She had written down all the numbers from the London School on a sheet of paper, and told Briana to start calling. Just then the apartment door opened, and the brusque cleaning lady stepped in. She mumbled something at the girls in terse German, and Briana answered for both of them. They decided to move upstairs and make their calls from the bedroom while the cleaning lady worked below.

By noon the calls were done, and so was the cleaning woman. When the cleaning lady moved upstairs, they went down to stay out of her way. Briana had learned the fine was now 6,602 pounds, which included interest and penalties. If it was paid before August 1, no further interest would be charged. Briana explained to the woman on the phone the courts were involved, and it was important the courts be notified as soon as the payment was received. The woman at the school was very friendly, and she happily gave Briana all the information she needed to wire the money and ensure the courts would be properly notified. Briana thanked her and hung up. Martha took the phone back, locked the front screen, and put it back in her suitcase. 

The cleaning lady left just before noon. They had the afternoon with nothing to do. Briana turned on the TV while Martha went into Nate's office and surfed the web using his personal laptop on the guest account. An hour later, both girls were bored. They didn't want to talk about anything, so they watched TV together. 

At 3:30 Martha moved their laundry to the drier, and Briana went upstairs and administered her enema and had a shower. Martha decided it was a good idea, when Briana came back downstairs, Martha went up and she redid her colon hydrotherapy, and, not knowing about the rule, took a second shower of the day while she cleaned the enema kit. 

Nate arrived at the apartment at 5:30. He went directly to his office, and retrieved a bag, and pulled out eight cuffs onto the dining table. "Time for your discipline," Nate said evenly. Briana and Martha shared a worried look - there were enough cuffs for both their ankles and wrists. 

"I would like to use my pass," Martha announced. 

"Me, too," Briana added quickly.

"Okay," Nate nodded, and put the cuffs back in the bag. 

"May I ask a question," Martha asked. Nate resisted the temptation to say 'you just did', and nodded. "Did you test Briana this morning hoping she would fail so we would use up our passes?"

"No," Nate shook his head slowly, and sat down. "I would have done that whether you had passes or not." Nate thought for a long time. "When I trained in the forces, one of the things we had to learn was how to disassemble, reassemble, load, and fire our weapon. We trained, and trained, and trained, until we could do it blindfolded, which we did." Nate continued. "I saw a guy thrown into a bathtub with cockroaches, rats, and snakes, and then told to disassemble, reassemble, and load his weapon. They set fire to another guy's bed, with him in it, and he was not allowed to get out until he had gone through the whole routine. And yes, they'd wake us up and tell us to do it immediately - any hesitation at all would lead to discipline." Nate paused. "The point is, there are some things you just know all the time, no matter what, and that was one of them."

"And that is what you did to Briana this morning," Martha asked. Nate nodded. "Okay," Martha looked at Briana, "now we know." 

"Right," Nate summarized. "Those rules are things you just need to know, no matter what."

"So are we going downstairs for supper?" Martha changed subjects.

"No," Nate answered quickly. "I said Briana had to be good. Using your pass just avoids the discipline - it doesn't give you a full pardon."

"I understand," Martha answered evenly. "Briana would like to tell you what she found out from the London School today." 

Briana summarized her phone call with the school, and explained how to wire the money. "The woman told me it is very important," Briana explained, "to put both the LSE reference number and the court case number in the transfer note, so the school will inform the court the fine was paid," Briana added. 

"Okay," Nate nodded. "We can do that tonight." He remembered seeing the court case number on one of the documents Brandt gave him. 

"Also, we did our laundry in your machine today," Martha added. "I hope that's okay."

"No problem," Nate nodded. 

"We get kind of bored during the day, and there is very little to watch on TV." Martha started.

"That phone I gave you has a Netflix app on it," Nate interrupted. "And you can beam the movie onto the big TV screen." Martha had no idea what Nate was talking about - she looked at Briana, who nodded assuredly, understanding her mother's look. 

"Just one point of clarification, then," Martha added. "I don't know how to use that ... that thing. Is it okay if Briana uses the phone for Net ... what did you called it?"

"Netflix," Nate corrected. "Yes, but Briana is not permitted to make any calls or surf the web from the phone or from my laptop."

"Understood," Martha nodded.

Martha had a simple supper of roasted salmon with a dill glaze and a salad underway. They ate together, and then they cleaned up supper. 

Nate ordered the girls upstairs. He had let them focus on each other the night before, and he didn't get his morning blowjob from Briana this morning, so Nate was longing for some fast and dirty relief. He told the girls to strip, which took little time. Nate lay on his back, and ordered Martha to suck him until he was hard. His recent absence made his cock grow hornier, and in no time Nate was rock solid. Nate then told Briana to straddle his cock, and fuck him. She set her knees on both sides of his hips, and accidentally hit his leg with her ankle bracelet. She apologized, and then gently lowered herself. Briana reached between her legs and guided Nate's ramrod into her open pussy. Nate told Martha to kneel on all fours across his head. He suckled on Martha's hanging nipples while reaching behind her hips with his right hand, and plunged his middle finger up Martha's fuck hole, and started pumping it in and out in rhythm to Briana's rocking, as she slid up and down his rock hard cock.

As Nate's balls started to roil, he told the girls to switch places. Martha lowered her pussy over Nate's cock, and Briana dangled her large tits over his mouth. He slipped his finger into Briana's pussy, and finger fucked her as Martha fucked Nate closer to salvation. 

"Bring me home," Nate called out to Martha, and she quickened her pace, rubbing her pussy up and down his shaft. As Nate felt his balls about to unload, he dug deep into Briana's pussy and bit gently on her nipple, and then Nate lifted his hips high of the ground as the first wave of jism blasted up inside Martha's pussy. Martha rode a full foot off the bed as Nate's hips drove high, and she felt the second wave of hot jism splash against her cervix at the deep end of her pussy. 

Nate moaned as the third jetstream drilled up her fuck hole. He pulsed his hips up and down, sending Martha on a bumpy ride, but she held on as she felt her vagina fill with hot semen. At last Nate's final geyser ripped up her hole, and Nate slowly lowered his hips back to the bed. 

Nate told Martha to dismount, and then he told Briana to suck his cock clean. She took the mixture of pussy juice and jism into her mouth, and sucked on it hard. Martha watched with a new appreciation for just how much experience her daughter had in this maneuver. 

Nate pulled both girls into the bed beside him, one on either side, and cuddled into a spoon sandwich. They lay together for fifteen minutes while Nate let the worries of his work day wash away between their naked bodies. 

Nate crawled over Briana, but before leaving the bed, he touched his cock to her lips. She instantly took him deep inside, and started sucking. He left his cock inside until it hardened again, then pulled it out. "Much better," he whispered, and kissed Briana gently on the cheek. 

Nate got up and got dressed, and asked the girls to do the same and join him in his office where he could wire the money. Briana brought her paper with all her written instructions. Nate logged on to his bank website using his personal laptop on his own account, and navigated to the funds transfer page. He entered all the details, and the amount of 6,202 British pounds. The bank automatically converted it from his euros account.

Nate pulled out the papers from his Brandt file, and found Briana's EU Court case number, and entered the 14 digit number into the comment field, and added "Notify EU Court Immediately upon receipt of payment" to the comment field. Briana read out to him the LSE case number, and he entered that as well. 

He asked Briana to check over all the information on the screen twice, and even Martha checked everything. When everyone was satisfied it was correct, Nate pressed the SUBMIT button. 

"Like Pavlina said," Briana looked at Nate, "you're still an asshole. Thank you." And she gently kissed Nate on the lips.

"Yes," Martha nodded, "thank you," and she kissed Nate on the lips. 

"You should be going home in a week," Nate said to Briana.

"Is that how long it takes to process the payment?" Martha asked. Nate explained Brandt said it took 5 business days.

"What are we going to do for a week?" Briana asked. 

"You have Netflix," Nate shrugged. They took his advice, and Briana teed up an episode of the Walking Dead for Martha. Meanwhile, Nate sent confirmation of the school funds transfer to Thomas Brandt in an email. Thomas replied within a minute, presumably from his smart phone, saying good work - he will remain on alert for official notification from the AeB.

Then Nate remembered something. He sent a text message to Henry Taggart. "Just a quick note to let you know there has been no further activity or inquiries from the police about Pavlina Kozak's disappearance. Also, Thomas Brandt's performance so far is A+. Thanks, Nate."

Nate's phone buzzed a minute later. It was Taggart's reply. "Glad everything working out. Brandt does good work - surprisingly inexpensive. Cheers, Henry." Nate worried what Taggart's bill was going to look like if he thought Brandt was inexpensive.  

Except for their daily sex, life for the threesome fell into a dull routine.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 11



Moving Day

They made it through the rest of the week without Nate imposing any serious discipline, until Saturday. Every morning he would wake one or the other of the girls by touching his cock to their sleeping lips, and both Briana and Martha obediently remembered to take him into their mouths as they woke up. He would make them suck him for a minute or two, then dress and go to work.

The girls modified their daily routine without telling Nate -- applying their enema in the mid-afternoon. As Nate wasn't there, they also took a few personal liberties, such as shutting the bathroom door. Their initiative paid off on Friday when Nate decided to ass fuck both of them, first side by side, then Nate had Martha crouch down in a doggie style position, and then Briana climbed on top of her, also in doggie, so Nate had two asses to fuck, one above the other.

On Saturday morning Nate was home. Had had been shopping at the grocery store in the morning. On his way out, he noticed Martha had left the VOIP phone on the coffee table the night before, because it was also the Netflix appliance for beaming shows onto the TV. Half out of curiosity, half out of his control freak nature, Nate took the VOIP phone with him -- the girls were upstairs and didn't see him take it. The first thing he noticed was the screen was not locked. Nate went through the phone's logs in aisle five of the grocery store. 

Three phone calls were placed to Canada on Friday, just the day before, at 3:43, 3:51, and 3:56. Nate pulled out his own cell phone and reverse looked up the outgoing phone numbers on the VOIP phone. He did not find out whom the numbers belonged to, only that they were all cell numbers. 

Nate continued shopping, and when he returned to the apartment, the girls were having breakfast at the table. It being Saturday, they had already done their enemas when Nate was out. As he unpacked the groceries, Nate casually asked Martha what they did yesterday. Nothing, she replied, they just watched some shows. Nate asked if they were required to make any follow-up calls to the London School or for the payment. Martha furled her eyebrows, and said no, that they were still waiting for the payment to be processed. 

"So you made no phone calls using this phone yesterday," Nate asked Martha, holding up the VOIP phone. 

"No," Martha replied, and Briana looked at Martha with an expression her mother immediately understood. Martha intuitively wanted to cover for Briana, to say yes, she made the calls, but she knew Nate would then ask details about the calls she couldn't answer. "Briana, what have you done?" Martha asked her daughter.

"Both of you," Nate barked, "go to the center of the room, strip and wait for me in your inspection position." The girls got up from the small, square dining table, walked to the center of the living room, and pulled their clothes off, and both stood with their hands behind their head with their feet wide. Nate let them stand naked while he finished putting away the groceries. 

When he finished, Nate walked to his office, and retrieved the bag of cuffs and collars, and returned to the living room. He ordered the girls to stand back-to-back, so they could not see each other, but still in their inspection position. 

Nate stood across from Briana. Martha could only listen to their exchange and wince. "How many calls did you make?"

"You know how many calls I made," Briana said blandly. Nate slapped the side of her left tit. "Stay in position!" he corrected her when Briana instinctively pulled her arm down to protect herself. Briana slowly raised her hands back behind her head. 

"How many calls did you make?" Nate asked again.

"Three," Briana answered meekly. 

"Who did you call?" 

"My friends," she answered.

"How did you know their numbers?"

"I know one of my friend's numbers by heart," Briana answered. "I asked her for the other two."

"What did you say?"

"Just stuff," Briana offered. 

Nate slapped her other tit. Briana brought her arms down, and wouldn't put them back up. 

Nate walked around, and faced Martha. "How did you let this happen?"

"I ... I don't know when or how it happened," Martha protested. "We were together the whole time." 

"There was not a fifteen minute period when you were not together?" And then Martha knew when it happened. They took turns with the enema and shower. Martha first, then Briana. Briana must have made the calls when Martha was in the bathroom. "Now I know when it happened," Martha explained. "I was in the bathroom."

"For fifteen minutes?"

"There was a ... a situation I needed to take care of -- it's kind of personal." Nate stayed silent, unmoved by her plea for privacy. "You probably don't want to hear the details, but I had the runs yesterday. I was in the bathroom a while. And then I thought I should enema a second time."

"And how did you not hear her talking on the phone?"

"I guess she was downstairs," Martha offered. "I don't know -- the door was closed." Martha cringed as soon as she said it.

"So to review," Nate said sternly, "you disobeyed me by closing the bathroom door, and you disobeyed me by leaving the phone unlocked with Briana."

"We were watching TV ..." Martha pleaded weakly. 

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," Martha looked at the floor. "I am sorry, Sir."

"Did you hear me tell her she was not allowed to use the phone to make any calls not required for her school loan?"

"Yes," Martha nodded weakly.

"Do you remember me telling you that you had to supervise her anytime she used the phone?"

"Yes," she nodded again.

Nate went to his bag of restraints, and pulled out two cuffs. "Watch carefully how I put this on," Nate told Martha as he wrapped the two inch wide cuff around her right wrist, threaded it through a metal buckle, and then folded it back the other direction upon itself, and then fed a narrower strip through a smaller belt buckle and fastened it in place. He did the same for her left wrist, explaining it as he went. He handed two more cuffs to Martha. "Put these on your ankles," he ordered, and watched Martha wrap them, fold back, and fix a cuff to one ankle, and then the other. It took about two minutes.

Nate handed Martha four more cuffs. "Put these on Briana's ankles and wrists," he ordered. Nate was concerned Briana would resist his application of the restraints, and he didn't want to have to overpower Briana. Nate watched as Martha applied the cuffs to Briana's wrists first, then her ankles. She had to put the right ankle cuff higher than the left to accommodate the ankle monitoring bracelet. In five minutes they were both cuffed, although their hands and legs were still free to move about. Each cuff had a metal ring for tying off. 

Nate took two metal quick links out of the bag, and looped it through the metal ring on Briana's wrist cuffs, binding her wrists together in front of her. Then he did the same for Martha. He pulled a 15 foot soft rope out of the bag, and tied one end to Briana's quick link between her wrist cuffs. Pulling on the rope, Nate led Briana under the stairs. He pulled a chair over, stood on it, and threaded the other end of the rope around the overhead railing, and pulled it through. In an instant, Briana was standing with her hands bound together high over her head. 

Nate did the same for Martha, but this time he walked the other end of the rope up the stairs, and fastened it to a railing baluster much higher up, so that Martha and Briana would not be bumping into each other. Mother and daughter were standing beside each other, naked, with her hands tied high over their heads.

"Now," Nate said to Briana, "tell me what you told your friends, and don't say 'stuff'."

Briana now realized Nate could slap and punch her breasts as much as he wanted, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. "I told them I was in Europe, and I was traveling on vacation." Briana sulked. 

"Did you tell them you were staying with me?"

"Not you, exactly," Briana said. "I told them I was staying with a friend I met."

"Did you use my name?"

"No."

"Did you tell them where I live?"

"No."

"Did you lie about me blackmailing or forcing you to have sex?" And now Martha understood the line of interrogation, and why Nate did not want Briana to use the phone.

"No," Briana.

Nate slapped her across the right tit. "You're lying," he said without emotion. Martha reeled in horror, not seeing the assault on Briana's breasts before.

"I'm not lying," Briana cried. "I didn't tell them you forced me to do anything. I didn't even talk about you."

"Except as an unnamed friend?"

"Right," Briana, "only I told them you were younger -- you know, my age." Nate was getting the picture. Briana was fabricating a story to make it sound like she was parading across Europe with her boy toy.

"So you lied to your friends, but I'm supposed to believe you're not lying to me now?!" Nate accused.

"No ... yes ... I mean ..." and Nate slapped her other tit.

"Stop it!" Martha called out.

"Your daughter lies," Nate rebuked Martha. "She lies to you, she lies to me, she lies to her friends, she lies to everyone. She cavorts with a companion who also lied to everyone, and stole 5,000 Euro from me and a plane ticket. There is nothing she says I can trust," Nate pointed at Briana's naked tied up body.

"Okay," Martha conceded, "but hitting her is not going to change anything."

"That's where you're wrong, and you know it," Nate accused Martha. "You've been slapping her, and it has been working." Martha fell silent. Nate was only doing what she did on a bolder scale. 

"So," Nate pivoted subjects, "what punishment would you have me do? You both disobeyed the rules, and I don't trust Briana when she tells me she didn't lie about me in her phone calls." Nate walked toward his office, letting the girls think about their penance. He returned with his camera, and took hundreds of pictures of them standing naked with their hands bound high over their heads. Full frame shots, close-ups, partial shots, front, side, 3/4 shots, rear shots, up shots, down shots -- he took everything.

Nate got an idea. He pulled a 25 foot rope out of the bag, and tied it to Briana's right ankle ring, above her ankle bracelet. Then he looped the rope over an overhead open stair, and he threaded the other end of rope through Martha's left ankle ring. As he pulled the rope tighter, Briana's right leg and Martha's left leg lifted higher and higher into the air, until their legs were pointing just over 90 degrees upward, and both girls' pussies were split open. He tied off the rope, and shot hundreds more pictures, this time with lots of up-the-pussy shots of both girls, collectively and individually. 

Nate put the camera down, and went to Briana. She balanced naked on one foot, with the other tied off to the side, higher than her hip, and her hands were held high over her head. He kissed her, and she obediently returned his kiss with an open mouth and closed eyes. Nate slipped his hands between her wide open legs, and easily slipped his middle finger up her open fuck hole. Martha watched as Nate slipped two fingers up her daughter's pussy and finger fucked her while Briana kissed him.

Nate pulled his fingers out of Briana's pussy, and stepped over to Martha, and kissed her, and she too kissed him back with an open mouth and closed eyes. He finger fucked Martha, first with his middle finger, then with two fingers. Finally, Nate pulled his fingers out, and touched them to Briana's lips, who took his fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean of the mixed pussy juices. 

"Maybe I should just leave you here all day," Nate finally spoke, pulling his fingers out of Briana's mouth. He walked around to the bottom of the stairs, and climbed the open staircase overhead, while the girls exchanged worried glances. 

"Mom I'm sorry," Briana said quietly.

"Shut up," Martha seethed through clenched teeth. "You couldn't resist, could you -- you had to phone your friends and lie about what a perfect little European vacation you were having. Nate's right. You're a worthless, lying, manipulative, cold bitch." 

"Mom, I didn't mean to. Please don't ..." Briana cried out loud.

"I said shut up!" Martha yelled, "and don't call me Mom -- you're no daughter of mine, you perverted, peeping, cock sucking, Oral B cunt!" Her mother's words tore viciously through Briana, leaving her in speechless anguish. 

Nate heard the exchange from the above bedroom, but the 'Oral B' was out of context, and he heard 'oily". He wondered what 'oily cunt' referred to. He thought of the demonstration he performed on Martha, and he was pretty sure Martha had just told her daughter to stop poking her in the chest. Nate picked up his book and lay back on the bed and read. 

An hour later, Nate put his book down and went downstairs to check on the girls. They were still standing on one foot, naked, with their hands bound high over their heads. Nate released the rope holding each of their one leg up, and gave them a chance to restore circulation to their affected limb. 

"Did you know Sarah went to Girl Guides?" Nate asked Briana. She nodded in silence, her face stained with dried tears. "She told me they had this -- I guess you call it a game. They had spaghetti, and they had to eat it in silence -- not one word. If they talked, their hands were tied behind their back, and they had to eat their spaghetti out of a bowl. Anyway," Nate continued, "Sarah said she had no trouble, but there were others who simply could not stay quiet, no matter what."

"So here's the deal," Nate looked at both of them. "You can stay there for the rest of today. I'll feed you here, and if you need to pee or whatever, I'll put a bucket down." Both girls crinkled their noses in disgust at that imagery. "Or," Nate offered, "I let you down, and you don't say a word -- not a single word -- until tomorrow midnight. You can speak now to discuss it, but once I untie you, you go silent or I tie you up again."

"May I have access to my purse once I am untied, please" Martha asked. 

"What for," Nate asked.

"My time of the month is coming up," Martha said without embarrassment. "I will need to deal with that."

"Okay," Nate nodded. "Anything else?"

"Can we still watch Netflix on TV, please?" Briana asked.

"Okay," Nate allowed, "but she is the only person who ever touches that phone," Nate pointed to Martha. "If you so much as pick it up, both of you will find yourselves back here for a whole day. Am I making myself brutally clear to both of you?" Both girls assured him they understood.

"Okay," Nate nodded. "I am going to untie you, but as a reminder, I am leaving your cuffs on. No speaking from now until tomorrow midnight. Not one word. If you need to explain something to me, you can write it down. Clear?" Both girls nodded. 

Nate untied both girls. They both shook out their arms, restoring the feeling to their muscles. Nate told them to kneel down, and they both did in silence. Then he unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock, and touched it to Martha's lips. Without a word, she took Nate in and sucked on him as he felt himself harden inside her warm mouth. He pulled out of Martha, and touched his rigid cock to Briana's lips, and she instantly took him into her mouth and sucked hard. 

Nate told Martha to stand up, and bend over the end of the sofa arm and spread her legs. When she was in position, he positioned his missile at her pussy, and pushed in. "Go upstairs and get some KY from the drawer beside my bed, and come right back down," he ordered Briana, and he watched her naked body disappear up the stairs while he fucked Martha from behind.

When she returned, Nate took the KY, pulled out of Martha's pussy, and told Briana to take her mother's place. Martha moved out of the way, and Briana bent her hips over the arm of the sofa and spread her legs. Nate plunged his already slick ramrod deep into Briana's pussy, and fucked her hard, driving her upper body forward on each thrust. 

Nate's balls started to churn. He pulled out of Briana, and told Martha to suck her daughter's juices off his cock. When he was shiny clean, Nate handed the KY to Martha, and told her to lube up Briana's asshole. "Get your finger way up there," he ordered, and Nate watched while Martha applied lube to her daughter's rosebud, gradually driving her finger further up the pipe until it disappeared up to her knuckle. Nate positioned his throbbing cock to Briana's pink pucker, and drove in easily. 

Briana's tight asshole was working miracles on his arousal, and soon Nate felt his balls approaching detonation. He told Martha to kneel, and get ready to take him in her mouth. As Nate passed the point of no return, he pulled out of Briana's chute, and pointed it toward Martha's awaiting open mouth, but instead of letting her take him in, he finished the job, and jerked himself for the last five seconds, and then unloaded all over Martha's beautiful face. 

Five streams crisscrossed her fine features, one right across her left eye, and another looked like maybe it went up her nose. Nate told her to stay still, and he retrieved his camera and shot several pictures, some close-up, some full frame, of her kneeling with his still hot jism tracked all over her face.

Nate told Briana to get down on her knees and lick her mother's face clean. Without a word, she knelt beside her mother, and licked all five streams of cum off her face. 

Nate told the girls they could dress while he washed up. When he came out of the bathroom fully dressed, Nate went to his office and retrieved Martha's purse from his safe. He handed it to her in the living room, and watched her take out a handful of tampons and some pads. He locked the purse back in the safe again while Martha went upstairs to stow the feminine products discretely in her suitcase. 

When Martha returned downstairs, Nate told them to clean up their dishes from breakfast, which only took half a minute. He handed the VOIP phone to Martha, who checked the screen lock was on. The two girls nodded at each other, and sat down beside each other on the sofa. Briana had managed the Netflix app before, and now she had to pantomime and point to help Martha use the app without saying a word or touching the phone. Nate watched with interest as the two girls communicated the complexities of a technological problem without speaking. Five minutes later, another episode of Walking Dead was playing on the TV. Nate went upstairs, returned the KY to his bedside drawer, and picked up his book again. In the afternoon, he went out for a long run.

To Nate's surprise, both girls kept silent for the entire weekend. On Sunday Martha's period started as predicted, and Nate allowed her to wear her regular underwear in the apartment. He told the girls to remove their cuffs for the shower, and put them back on again. Nate took blowjobs from the girls on Sunday morning and night. On Sunday night at midnight, Nate removed the cuffs from the girls' wrists and ankles, signaling the end of their punishment. 

Briana was more docile for the rest of the week, less spirited. The mood between mother and daughter had chilled considerably. Many hurtful words were left unresolved, and many unspoken words went unsaid. That didn't stop Nate from enacting his daily lovemaking rituals with both girls. Martha was confined mostly to oral sex during her menstruation period, with one night of anal. Briana made up for it with lots of fucking in every conceivable position. 

The news finally came late on Thursday afternoon. Nate received an email from Brandt -- the AeB had acknowledged Briana's disposition of her school debt, and she could leave as early as Saturday morning. The flight left for Toronto very early, and the paperwork would not be ready for a Friday departure. He said Briana would have to come to the AeB Directorate late on Friday afternoon. He would have all the paperwork ready. She needed to bring the 5,000 Euro fee in cash. The AeB would hold Briana in custody overnight, and would transport her to the airport on Saturday morning. Someone from the AeB would watch her get on the flight, just like in the old days. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 11



There are no flights from Hamburg to Toronto, so Briana would fly Lufthansa to Frankfurt, and then connect to a Toronto flight. Another AeB agent in Frankfurt would ensure Briana transferred to the correct transatlantic flight. They were taking no chances after Pavlina's embarrassing disappearance. 

"So tonight is the last night with all of us together," Martha declared after Nate relayed the news. 

"A celebration is in order," Nate nodded. They had never made it to the Brazilian restaurant on the ground floor of his apartment building, so Nate declared tonight was the night. Martha wore her black backless dress again, and Briana wore her yellow sundress. Nate wore black pants, a white shirt, and a blue/grey sport coat.

Nate led them down the interior stairs, making sure to never step outside the building. By early evening, the restaurant was primarily a steak house. Nate ordered a striploin steak, which is called a filet in Germany, with a peppercorn sauce. Martha had a bacon wrapped filet mignon, and Briana had a beef stroganoff. 

Nate led them back up to his apartment after dinner. He decided to get some work done if he was going to take Friday afternoon off, so he retreated to his office and left the girls alone together on their last night together in Germany.

He was still on a roll at 11 when Martha poked her head in the door. She had changed into her grey dress. "We're going to bed," she smiled. "Thanks for a great dinner." 

Nate nodded. "I'll be an hour. I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed," he said. He watched her turn around and walk away.

Nate woke early and went to the gym on Friday morning. When he returned, he showered, dressed, and then woke the girls, shaking them gently. 

"I'm going to work," Nate explained. "I will be back by 2 in the afternoon. We will leave around 2:30." The girls nodded. He left them in bed, and took the subway to work.

Nate worked right through until 12:30, and realized he was hungry, and he still hadn't been to the bank. Before he left, he spoke with his client, and arranged to take another week off work. His client was both relieved and concerned, but agreed as long as Nate could continue working part time from home, as he did last time. 

He went to the bank, withdrew 5,000 Euro in 100 denomination bills, and then stopped for a sandwich on the way home. He arrived at his apartment late, at 2:15. Briana and Martha were watching another episode of Walking Dead. 

Nate went to his office and retrieved Briana's AeB certificate. He also opened his safe, and pulled out $500 in Canadian currency. He went to the living room, and asked the girls to stop the movie.

Nate first set the pile of fifty 100 Euro notes, and asked her to count it out loud. She counted 5,000 Euros. Then he returned her AeB document. She tucked everything into the duffel bag Nate bought for her long ago. Finally, Nate gave her the $500 Canadian, saying it was spending money to help her land on her feet when she got home. 

Nate pulled Briana into a big hug. "Good luck," he said.

"You're an asshole," she smiled, "but if I ever meet you in a dark alley again, I pray to God you're still on my side."

"I'll always be on your side," he smiled, "even if you think it doesn't feel that way." Martha nodded with the seasoned intuition of a parent.

Nate did a final checklist, and then sent an email to Thomas Brandt -- they were on their way. The three of them set out toward the Baumwall subway station, and climbed the stairs to the elevated platform. They took the subway eight stops to the Uhlandstrasse station, and walked to Thomas Brandt's office. They arrived early at the second floor waiting room. Thomas was engaged with another client. They waited in the small reception room that served about twelve lawyers. 

Ten minutes later Thomas came out to meet them. "You know Fraulein Evans," Nate re-introduced Briana, "and this is her mother."

"Ah, yes," Brandt shook Martha's hand. "We spoke on the phone." 

Thomas waived them into his tiny office, and once again Nate stood behind the industrial padded steel chairs while the two girls sat across from Brandt. Thomas asked Briana to count the money out in front of him, and she counted out exactly 5,000 euros, and then put it back. He had her sign six documents in 23 different places, Nate counted. 

He filed away his documents, and handed one final document to Briana. "This one," he pointed, "is proof that the European Court has recorded the disposition of your London of Economics School debt." Briana filed it in her duffle bag. 

"And now," Thomas stood up, "I take Fraulein Evans to the AeB."

"We don't go with you?" Martha asked.

"I am afraid that is not permitted," Brandt explained. "Only officers of the court are permitted to accompany AeB subjects through the release process." He paused. "You can walk us across the street, and we will say goodbye at the entrance to my garage."

"What!?" Briana looked from Martha, to Nate, to Brandt. "Mom's not coming with me?"

"No," Martha reached across and touched Briana lightly on her jeans covered thigh. "I will follow in a week or so."

"A week?! What will you do for a week?"

"It's part of the plan," Martha evaded the answer. "You go, and I will see you soon." Briana felt like everyone was in on a joke except her, except this wasn't funny. 

Brandt sensed it was a good time, so he took his briefcase, stood up, and ushered the three of them out of his tiny office. They followed Brandt down the stairs to street level. They crossed the street to the glass and steel door that led into Brandt's underground parking garage. Martha and Briana hugged for a long time. 

"You take care," Martha whispered. "I'll see you soon."

"You too, Mom," Briana cried. "I'm sorry I've been such a disappointment my whole life."

"You were never a disappointment, you're just ..." Martha searched for the word, "uniquely focused. We'll talk when I get home."

Brandt led Briana through the glass door. Martha watched the door close, and stayed there until they disappeared around a distant hallway corner. 

"What now?" Martha sighed at Nate, not trying to hide her dread at the coming week.

"Whatever you want," Nate offered. "Dinner, quiet night at home ..."

"How about you take me out get me hammered," she said, "and how about you give me the night off."

"I know a good Irish pub within staggering distance from the apartment," Nate smiled. 

"Okay," Martha wagged her finger at Nate, "but I don't want some drunk, horny Irish German guy groping me."

"They'll have to get through me first," he assured her.

"Works for me," Martha shrugged. "Lead the way." They took the subway back the way they came, but went stayed on at the Baumwall station and continued to the St. Pauli station, the eastern gateway to the famous Reeperbahn. From there they walked back toward Nate's apartment, and then deaked into a small cluster of side streets. 

Nate didn't know the name of the place. It had an unassuming front entrance. Anyone could easily walk past without noticing a restaurant. It had a well-established local clientele, which is the best kind of place to go. While not a regular, Nate had been there enough times to know his way around.

It was still early in the evening, and he easily found a table at the back corner. He told Martha to sit with her back to the window, and he sat with his back to an adjacent wall, giving him a full field of view of the room, ready to intercept any drunk, horny, groping Irish Germans. 

They ordered pints of beer on tap, and looked at the menu. Six hours later, Martha was leaning into Nate's chest, her words barely perceptible. She needed to go to the bathroom. Nate called the waitress over. He said his friend needed to use the toilet, but probably needed some help. He slipped the waitress 25 euros, and told her there was another 25 for Martha's safe return. Nate paid the food and bar bill while Martha was in the toilet.

After the waitress returned Martha to the table and claimed the back half of her tip, Nate walked Martha out of the restaurant, and helped her home as Martha staggered and stumbled most of the way.

In the apartment, Nate helped Martha up the stairs. He sat her on the edge of the bed and pulled her dress over her head. Then Nate laid her on her back, removed her shoes, and pulled down her underpants. He pulled the duvet over her naked body. Nate retrieved a bucket from the hallway closet, and set it on the floor beside Martha, preparing for the worst. 

Nate went back downstairs to his office, and opened his personal laptop. He browsed for an hour until he found what he was looking for, and made some online reservations. 

When Nate awoke in the morning, it was past 9. He had uncharacteristically slept in, which was not a problem on a Saturday morning. Martha was purring gently beside him. Nate slipped quietly out of bed, noticing the bucket on the floor was untouched.  

He checked his email. Brandt relayed that the AeB reported Briana had boarded her 6:30 flight to Frankfurt. 

He made coffee and buttered some croissants with jam. Nate brought breakfast upstairs, and gently woke Martha up to the smell of fresh coffee.

"What time is it?" she asked. Nate told her 9:30, and explained Briana was in Frankfurt. Just as he spoke the words, his cell phone chimed again. He checked his email from Brandt again. "She just boarded the ten o'clock flight to Toronto," Nate read out. 

"So it's over," Martha flopped her head back onto the pillow, rubbing her eyes. 

"For Briana it is," Nate nodded casually. 

Martha opened her eyes and looked at Nate. "Right," she remembered her obligation to him didn't end until he receives his bond money back.

"Coffee?" Nate offered her a cup of espresso. 

"I need that," she reached for the cup and saucer. "I don't remember coming home last night."

"I walked you home," he explained, "and put you to bed."

She looked under the duvet, realizing she was naked. "Thanks, I guess," she offered dubiously. 

Nate ignored the slight. "Have some breakfast. I'll take you to the gym later. It's good for a hangover."

"Could we do a run instead?" she asked. 

"It's already hot out," he warned. 

"I'm okay in the heat," she let her head fall back to the pillow. 

An hour later Nate led the way up the gentle slope of the park, and then stopped and waited while Martha stretched for five minutes. He normally avoids hot days, but her pace was slow enough to allow him to adjust comfortably. They circumnavigated half of the botanical gardens again and returned home in an hour. Martha thanked him for the run -- she really needed that after all that time cooped up inside his apartment. 

Back in the apartment, she stripped off her running gear and grabbed the enema kit. Nate touched her gently on the hand. "No more enemas," he said softly, "unless you like them". "And the bathroom is your sanctuary. Close and lock the door if you want."

Martha didn't ask why. She stepped into the bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the toilet in peace. When she was done, Martha started the shower. After she dried off and left the bathroom, Nate hugged her, pulling her naked breasts into his chest, then he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, and Martha kissed him back while he tenderly ran his fingers up and down her spine. Then Nate entered the bathroom, and ran the shower for himself. 

When Nate came out of the shower, Martha was downstairs. He dressed and packed a suitcase, and carried it downstairs. He went to his office, and packed his two laptops in his case, and retrieved Martha's purse, money, and passport from the save, and stowed them in a fat manila envelope in his suitcase. 

Martha was sitting on the sofa watching broadcast TV. She was wearing her spandex white top and the white denim jacket over her dark red skirt. Nate walked behind the sofa, leaned over her, and slipped his hand underneath the jacket, but still over the spandex fabric, and gently caressed her right breast in his hand. Leaning over her from behind, he kissed her mouth upside down, and she returned the kiss.

"Go upstairs and pack," Nate said after he broke his kiss and pulled his hand from her breast.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not hiding her surprise. 

"You said you wanted to go to Rugen Island."

"You're taking me there?" she asked. He nodded. Martha had looked up Rugen Island on Nate's laptop when she was allowed to use it. It sounded beautiful. "When are we leaving?" Martha asked. 

Nate leaned over again, this time capturing both her breasts in his hands and kissed her again. "When you finish packing," he smiled. 

"For how long?" 

"For as long as you want." Martha smiled.

"What should I pack?" she sked.

"Everything," he answered, and kissed her gently. She smiled and went upstairs.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 12



Life, or Something Like it

The trip to Rugen took a few minutes short of three hours in the Audi Q7. As they drove east on the A20 autobahn, Martha asked how fast they were going. Nate had put the cruise control on 220, he told her, or about 130 miles an hour. He'd driven faster, but he feels comfortable at this speed on long trips. What impressed her more was how many other cars passed them at considerably higher speeds.

This long stretch of A20 ran without speed limits, and they were able to make good time until the Rugen cutoff, just before Greifswald. They followed the E251 into Rugen, and then Nate navigated to the Strand Promenade along the water. They found the Prince Spa and Hotel, and Nate pulled the car into the semi-circular driveway. It was wide, square horseshoe shaped building, with the open front of the horseshoe facing the Baltic Sea. The driveway and entrance were on the backside of the square horseshoe.

At the two ends of the horseshoe were square three-story towers that rose above the rest of the building - each floor in each tower was just large enough to house a suite. Nate had booked the upper floor of the south tower. He asked the porter to show Martha to the room while he checked in. He tipped the porter, who thanked Nate and led Martha toward the elevator.

After he checked in, Nate asked the hotel to keep a valuable package in their safe. The clerk charged Nate 120 euros. Nate would get a 100 euro deposit back when he returned the key. The clerk brought Nate around to their secure area. Nate signed out a safety deposit box, and received a key. He opened the box, and deposited the manila envelope in that contained Martha's passport, purse, and money, and then locked the box. 

Nate made his own way to the suite, where Martha was already unpacking. The tower room was L shaped, with the waterfront and outside walls windowed, and the tower's stairwell and elevator shaft blocking the inland view across the main building. Being on the top floor of the tower meant the cathedral ceilings were higher, giving a spacious and grandiose feeling. 

Martha had instantly fallen in love with the view overlooking the sandy beach to the Baltic Sea. She turned to Nate as he stepped in the room. "As long as I like?" she smiled.

"Absolutely," he assured and kissed her. She kissed him back willingly. 

"What's the catch?" Martha asked skeptically. 

"There's no catch," Nate held his palms out, showing he had nothing to hide. "You can stay here, or anywhere, as long as you like."

"And you'll pay for it all?"

"Ah!" Nate held up a qualifying finger. "I will pay for as long as our deal is in place."

"Okay," Martha nodded, feeling stupid for falling for his simple trick. "And how long is that?"

"Brandt said these things usually take a week."

"And so you and I are staying here for a week?" Martha checked.

"If you want," Nate nodded.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then we'll go where you want, within reason," Nate qualified. 

"But the deal is still on until you get your money back," Martha checked.

"Of course," Nate offered neutrally.

"And once the deal is off, I am cut off," she worried.

"I'm not going to leave you stranded somewhere," Nate assured her. "Once my money comes in, we will proceed at whatever pace we choose together to whatever place you want to go, within reason, and I will get you there safely." 

"Okay," Martha nodded. "Why do you keep saying 'within reason'?"

"Because if you say you want to be taken to the Taj Mahal," Nate explained softly, "that's a bit out of my range." 

Martha nodded. She turned to look out the window to the sandy beach. "I need a bathing suit," she declared. 

Nate walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her tummy. "At least two, I should think" he offered, and Martha smiled and put her hands over his. "It's four o'clock. We can go shopping now while we stroll around," Nate offered, as they looked upon the beach together.

"Okay," she turned to him. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

They left the hotel and strolled down the promenade hand-in-hand. There were shops, cafés, and restaurants everywhere. And people everywhere. Happy couples and families were ambling along. 

After ten minutes of window shopping, Martha saw a bathing suit store she liked. They had already passed a half dozen of them that all looked the same to Nate. He followed her into the seventh store. And then Martha froze in the store. "Do I ... ah ... have to pick what you say?" she whispered. 

"Pick whatever one you like," he offered, "and I'll do the same." Martha nodded, now understanding his comment 'at least two'. 

While Martha focused on an assortment of one-piece bathing suits, Nate confined his search to bikinis - not just bikinis, but string bikinis - the kind where a string threads through the bottom of the breast cups, letting the cups adjust their position and width. He was torn between an all-white, all-black, or a burnt red design with dark grey trim. 

Martha was still musing over one-piece styles when Nate walked over to her. "I like that one," he pointed to a black one-piece on a mannequin. Martha hadn't noticed it before, but she agreed - it looked nice. Part of the fabric was see-through, and the solid fabric curved up the body and covered the important parts. It was both risqué and modest at the same time. In the end, it was the one she chose. Then Nate brought her over to the bikinis, and he showed her the three choices: white, black, or burnt red/grey. She chose the red/grey one, but in a cup size larger. Nate also took the white bikini, and paid for the three bathing suits. It always confounded Nate how so little material could cost so much. The three items came almost to 200 euros.

They sauntered aimlessly along the busy tourist streets, and Martha stopped to look in nearly every shop window. She spied another bathing suit store she liked, and went inside. After 20 minutes of browsing, she selected a white, long-sleeve, sheer, tunic beach cover-up. It was slightly see-through, letting on onlooker just barely see the bathing suit beneath. Nate thought it could be a fun addition to her at-home ensemble, imagining what she would look like naked underneath. He happily paid for the cover-up, which cost less than any of the bathing suits, and had more fabric than the three of them combined. 

During another hour of strolling, they bought beach towels and a large beach blanket. It was becoming cumbersome to carry all the purchases, so they circled back to the Prince Hotel and dropped their parcels in the room, and returned to lazily browse the streets. They walked hand-in-hand while Martha took in more window shopping. Martha settled for a seaside restaurant as hunger overtook her shopping instincts. Just after they ordered their meal, Nate's cell phone chimed. He told Martha an email from Briana announced she had arrived in Toronto and was staying with friends for a few days. Martha rested her head back, closed her eyes, and let out a long, cleansing breath. 

"Do you want me to send a reply?" Nate asked.

"Tell her I am vacationing in Rugen Island, and I will be home in a week." Nate typed in the message as a third person, as in 'your mother is vacationing ...' and he sent it. 

A moment later, a new email arrived. "Is she still with you because of me?" is all it said. He read it out to Martha.

"Might as well tell the truth," Martha said. "There's nothing she can do now." Nate typed the one word 'yes' and pressed the reply button. There were no more messages. 

After dinner they strolled along the promenade, holding hands. The air was electric with street artist and performers, music, dancers, and throngs of tourists. After watching the performers for nearly an hour, Martha said she wanted to go back to the hotel. They walked together slowly, arriving in their room in a calm, relaxed atmosphere. 

Martha used the bathroom and locked the door. When she came out five minutes later, Nate was reading a book on the bed. He patted the bed beside him, and she lay down on her back. Nate leaned onto his elbow, raised his head over hers, and kissed her softly, and she closed her eyes and kissed him back. He lowered a hand to her tummy and gently brushed his fingertips up and down her flat, firm belly while they still kissed. He broke off his kiss on her lips, and moved down, planting gentle kisses on her neck has his hand moved over the spandex fabric, finding the shape of her firm breasts. 

Nate sat Martha up and pulled her white denim jacket off her shoulders, and then he grabbed the bottom of her spandex top and lifted it up. Martha helped by raising her hands over her head, and Nate pulled the top inside out over her upstretched arms and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Martha lay back topless, her firm tits pointing to the ceiling, and Nate gently kissed all around her nipples. He felt them stiffen, and he tenderly suckled on one, then the other, before slowly moving his kisses down, down, down the midline of her tummy. He rolled Martha over gently, and she helped. Nate pulled down the zipper on the back of her skirt, and then rolled Martha back on her front, and she lifted her hips off the bed while Nate grappled the sides of the skirt and pulled it down her thighs. She slowly lowered her ass back to the bed, and Nate pulled the skirt off her legs and tossed it beside her top.

Martha lay naked on the bed while Nate stood up, and removed all his clothing. He returned to the bed, and softly kissed her left big toe, then her foot, then her ankle, and slowly worked northward until he gently brushed his puckered lips dead on Martha's pussy, and she let out a deep sigh. He started at the right toe, and again worked his way up her leg, until this time, he let his tongue dive between her lips, and he tickled her clit ever so gently. Martha moaned appreciatively.

Nate spread her legs gently, and took up a position between them, and started tonguing her sweet pussy in earnest. Martha closed her eyes and rested her hands on the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. She wasn't even aware her hips had started to rock gently, assisting Nate in his cunnilingus. Nate tickled Martha's side ribs with his fingertips as he tongued her clit more forcefully, and the combined sensations of tickling and tonguing vaulted Martha into a new level of excitement, and she started moaning louder. 

Soon her hips were thrusting too much, and Nate lost traction on her little spitfire. He grappled his arms around her thighs and pulled them down, dampening her thrusting motion. Martha curled her fingers around his hair and started gripping tightly as Nate found his rhythm, and was quickly tonguing her clitoris toward detonation. With his hands around her thighs, he now pushed his face hard into her pussy, and she welcomed the intensified sensation with a loud cry.

Nate broke for the finish line - he used his chin and tongue together to maximize the force he could press onto the tissues protecting her clit, and his efforts quickly paid off. Martha heaved her hips skyward as she wailed a sentence with no intelligible words while her clitoris flashed a million volts of orgasmic energy through every nerve in her body. Her spasms spread to all her muscles, and Martha clenched in a body-wide release. 

When Martha at last relaxed, she loosened her grip on Nate's hair, allowing him to move freely. He climbed up over Martha, and rested his body gently on hers, using his knees and one elbow as ground points to reduce the weight he pressed on her chest. With his free hand, Nate pulled the bed spread beside them and wrapped it over his back, until it fell down the other side, cocooning the embracing pair in a warm pocket. 

They lay in naked silence, him over her, while Martha absentmindedly traced her fingernails up and down Nate's back with a lover's touch. Lying naked on top of Martha brought Nate's senses to life after five minutes, and he felt his cock growing with purpose. When fate could no longer be denied, Nate raised himself onto his hands and knees, and positioned his aching member between her open legs. The tip of his cock touched her opening, and her natural lubrication invited him in.

Instantly Nate was sliding in and out of Martha's hot pussy, and her fingernails started raking his back with conviction. He fucked her slowly, gently, with bridled passion. She stretched her head back, and he kissed her exposed neck, then tracked down her chest, to her breasts, and focused on her erect nipples as he continued his slow, tender lovemaking. 

Martha lowered her hands, and gripped his solid muscle ass cheeks, and dug her fingernails in. Nate took that as license to increase his tempo and force, and he started thrusting inside Martha with greater authority. She moaned in appreciation to his heightened energy, and pulled his ass in toward her body on each stroke. Soon Nate was driving hard into her pelvis, and Martha rewarded his efforts with moans at each thrust. 

Nate's slow start had awoken a monster that was demanding release, and Nate quickly felt his balls approach critical mass. The monster took over, and Nate slammed hard into Martha's hips, and Martha's moans became cries. At last the monster burst free, and Nate drilled his cock deep inside Martha as the first waves of convulsive jets sprayed hot cum against the deep end of her tunnel. She felt her pussy fill with his warmth, and Martha dug her fingernails as hard as she could into his ass.

Maybe five or six waves of orgasmic spasms pumped Nate's semen into her hot pussy before Nate finally relaxed and pulled out. He rested on his side beside Martha with his arm draped over her chest, just below her breasts. Nate cocooned them both under the bedspread again. They lay together in blissful, warm silence for a long time. 

"Don't take offence," Martha finally broke the silence, speaking quietly, "but how can you be a dominating master one moment and a tender, spectacular lover the next?"

"I was spectacular?" Nate chirped, feigning childlike delight. 

She slapped him gently. "Yes you were, just now," she said, "but you were mean and rough at other times."

"I don't think there is just one way to have sex," Nate offered. "I think people fool themselves when they talk about 'normal' sex." 

"But sex doesn't always have to be about power, or control," Martha said.

"I agree," Nate said. "Sometimes it is about tenderness, and love. Sometimes it's nothing more than a quick fuck. Sometimes it's slow. Sometimes sex is about sharing, sometimes it is about selfless giving, and sometimes it is about selfish taking." Nate paused. "It is all those things. Some people are into pain - to them pain and sex are two different points on the same scale. Some people are into humiliation. Some people are into domination. Some people like being in power, some people like others holding power over them. I think a good lover is someone who can do a range of those things - who is willing to experiment, both for themselves and for their lover."

"So you like to do all those things?"

"Me?" Nate asked rhetorically. "No, not all. I am not into pain that much, although I had a girlfriend who liked pain, so I experimented both ways. And I don't really for humiliation. I especially don't get scat or golden showers."

"What?!" Martha asked. "What are those?"

"Scat is sex play with poop, and a golden shower is letting someone piss on you."

Martha sat up in the darkened room. "Are you fucking serious? People do that?"

"Hey," Nate held his palms up, "it's not for me, but like I said, there is no such thing as normal sex." 

"So you're saying" Martha thought, "if my partner wanted to piss on me, I should let him do it because we should be good lovers and try different things."

"No," Nate shook his head. "There have to be boundaries. You have to know and say what your boundaries are, and you have to respect each other's boundaries."

"So if your partner said her boundaries were missionary sex only, you'd respect that?"

"I'd respect it," Nate said, "but it's unlikely we would stay together very long, or at all."

"Because she won't put out for you," Martha snapped.

"No," Nate replied calmly, "because the kind woman who insists on missionary sex only is probably not as adventurous as the person I would want to share my life with."

"So when you aren't forcing women to have sex with you ..."

"I never forced you or anyone," Nate interrupted sharply.

"My mistake," Martha restarted. "When you don't negotiate a certain arrangement in advance, what kind of sex do you have?"

"Every relationship is a negotiation about sex," Nate pointed out. "In our case, we were just honest and explicit about it."

"You're not answering my question," she complained.

"Yes I did," Nate retorted. "You need to get past some mythical notion that 'real' couples have 'normal' sex. Everyone negotiates, everyone has limits, and everyone does something they don't like doing in order to please their partner. You said so yourself," Nate pointed out, "you started out not liking anal sex. Someone asked you to do that - someone pushed your boundaries, and you did something you didn't like to, and you learned something from it."

"Supposing," Nate offered, "your faithful and loving husband of 20 years, whom you adore, came home one day and said he really wanted to piss on your tits." Martha wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You would do it, or you would refuse, but you would think about it, and you would discuss it with him, because if it is that important to your life partner, then maybe you can see your way through it." Nate paused. "Most men bring up a three-way at least once in their marriage, and most women refuse, but at some point in their relationship, they negotiate it. All relationships involve a negotiation about sex. The only less common element about us is we explicitly negotiated sex at the very outset. You wanted something, I wanted something. We negotiated. Most couples wade into the negotiations more organically, and over a long time."

"So you would call this - us - a normal relationship," Martha challenged. 

"In case you haven't been listening, I am saying there is no such thing."

Martha was angry. She was angry at Nate, but not sure why. He was right, but he had to be wrong. She was angry at herself for even bringing it up. A perfectly beautiful evening had been spoiled - again. 

"How many other women have you done this with," Martha asked. She figured the night was ruined. Nate looked at her uncertainly. "I mean, had sex with them because they asked you to help them."

"First of all," Nate replied calmly, "I never asked. Both Briana and you offered. Both your offers were explicit and clear."

"Okay, okay!" Martha cut in. "How many times have you been propositioned for sex in return to help them?"

"Twice," Nate nodded. "Briana and you." She looked at Nate incredulously. "Look," Nate defended, "it's not as though I go out looking for this. I bumped into Briana by total coincidence, and she offered, just as you offered. This is all new to me."

"And so you just happened to record her? That was new to you too?"

"No," Nate answered. "I recorded her, as I did you, because any time I am alone in my apartment with a woman, I record it until I know what is going on. It's for my own protection."

"Seriously?" Martha rebuked. "What kind of women do you hang out with?"

"Well, Briana for one," Nate replied without hesitating, "who lied about what I said and did." Martha fell silent. 

"I'm sorry I brought this whole thing up," she finally said.

"Well listen," Nate offered, "I was just trying to defend and explain myself. I wasn't trying to ..."

"No," Martha interrupted. "That's not what I mean. We had a very nice night tonight. You were very kind, and I ruined it. I'm sorry for that."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 12



Nate gently pulled her chin toward him with his thumb. "You can never ruin something by being honest," he offered softly, and then kissed her. 

Martha kissed him back with purpose, and wrapped her arms around his head. "You are one warped motherfucker," she smiled. 

"You know," Nate mused, "you've called me that before. Seeing that you're a mother, that would make you the ..."

"Shut up!" she smiled and kissed him. "Take me out and buy me some really expensive dessert."

"Clothing optional?" he smiled.

"Boundaries," she wagged her finger back at him as she climbed off the bed and fished out her black backless dress from her suitcase. 

- - -

Martha awoke Sunday morning in a disorienting fog. Finally she recognized the lavish décor of the Prince hotel, and she remembered where she was. She looked beside her, and Nate was not there. She got up and padded naked to the bathroom. He wasn't there either. She started to panic. Did he abandon her here? No, he promised her he wouldn't do that.

Back in the bedroom, his suitcase was still here, and his trousers with his wallet and keys. What could he be wearing? And then she realized he must be out for a run. She was annoyed he didn't wake her and invite her to join him. Martha dressed in her grey dress - her go-to clothing. 

She wanted coffee. She didn't know where the dining room was, and she spoke no German. She turned on the TV, and watched some news, most of which she didn't understand. Angry looking mobs marching down a street. She channel surfed, and found a German dubbed version of a movie called Wall-E, about a robot stranded on a planet. It was quite watchable, since there was so little dialog to be dubbed. 

Half an hour later, Martha heard a noise at the door, and Nate walked in. His shirt was soaking. "Been running?" Nate nodded, nearly out of breath. "I wish you'd woken me ... I would have gone."

"We can go out now," Nate offered, still panting. 

She looked at him gravely. "Do I run that slow?"

"No," he walked over and kissed her on the lips, "I'm that good!"

"We'll see about that," she cocked a smile, and stripped off her dress. She walked to her suitcase and pulled on her running clothes and shoes. "You gonna change?" she asked him, nodding to his shirt.

"Yeah, maybe," he pulled the soaking wet shirt off his chest, tenting the fabric. Then he reached down and hauled the three pound shirt off his body and hung it up to dry in the shower stall. Nate pulled on another shirt just while Martha was lacing up her shoes. 

"No," he shook his head. "Don't wear socks. We'll run down the beach." Now Martha knew why he had sweated hard, and she started regretting insisting on a run. 

She pulled her shoes and socks off. "I need some flip flops for the beach," she said.

"We'll get some after the run," he offered, no longer panting. 

They left the room together, and walked down to the beach hand-in-hand. They kicked off their shoes, and Nate watched as Martha took five minutes to stretch before her run. Nate led her North on the beach at a slow pace. Even so, Martha found the sand running much more difficult, and she asked Nate to slow down a little. He was barely jogging, uncomfortably half walking, when he decided to turn around and go backwards. 

"Show off," Martha jibed at him. 

"I get to see more of you this way," he smiled, staying slightly ahead of her, checking behind him every few seconds. 

After a couple of kilometers, he turned forward again, and Martha asked to stop. "I never thought beach running would be this hard."

"I used to do five miles every day for 2 years," Nate nodded. "I really miss it."

She asked to turn back, and they did. Occasionally she'd slow to a walk, and Nate coaxed her to pick up the pace again. By the time they returned to the Prince, she was exhausted. 

"How far did you go earlier," she asked Nate as they washed off their feet under the outdoor shower. 

"I'd guess 4 K's out and back - about 5 miles," he pointed the other direction, south of the hotel.

"And you ran that?"

"As hard as I could," Nate nodded. Martha looked at his shirt. There was not a drop of sweat on it after his run with Martha. She thought about the story Briana told her, when Nate took on three armed Romanians in a dark alleyway, and Briana described it as nowhere close to a fair fight. Martha always thought Briana embellished the story to make it sound more dramatic, but now she wasn't sure. 

They walked back to the room together. Martha said she needed to shower, and so did Nate, so the solution was to shower together. After they lathered and rinsed their hair, Nate's hands grew frisky, and he started gently caressing her breasts. He kissed her, and she kissed him back obediently. 

Nate reached his left hand down her back, to her ass, and landed his middle finger on her rosebud. Then he reached his right hand down her front, and pressed his three open middle fingers over her clit, and started massaging both hands up and down, delivering double duty sensations on both her ass and clit. The combination quickly awakened Martha's libido, and soon she stood with her back against the wall, toes pointed and heels raised, while Nate massaged intensified his dual-point pressure.

Martha felt the pressure building up inside her clitoris, and she started rocking her pelvis against his front and back hands. Nate started lifting as well as massaging, digging his fingers deeper into her tender tissues, doubling the explosive tension in a hurry. 

Now Nate alternated his hands - he lifted up on her pussy, pushed down on her ass, and then reversed, and the back and forth motion sent tingling waves through Martha's womanhood. Her breathing quickened, and Nate started sucking on her nipples, pulling them into his mouth.

Martha closed her eyes and started groaning the echoing shower as the pressure between her legs grew critical. Sensing her impending release, Nate doubled the intensity of his dual clit/anal massage, and Martha arched her head back as the orgasmic ripples started. Martha had never had a stand-up orgasm before, and when she came, her legs buckled, causing Nate to lift her up by her clit and asshole, and Martha nearly fell over. The extra sensations of his fingers digging into her sensitive tissues overloaded her erotic senses, and she unleashed a high pitched scream inside the shower stall, letting the echoes linger for several seconds. She felt the second wave coming, and she braced for the delirious onslaught. This time Martha managed to stay upright. After the third wave Martha collapsed into Nate's chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He released his grip on her nether regions and hugged her gently, letting the hot shower water gently wash away her orgasmic afterglow.

Nate kissed her, and she kissed him back hard, darting her tongue into his mouth. "Let's dry off and see if you find something else to do with that tongue," Nate whispered, and they stepped out of the shower. Nate was rock hard, so Martha squatted low and took him into her mouth for a good, long suck. Then she took her towel and dried off while Nate did the same.

"Any preferred way," she asked invitingly, crawling onto the bed. 

Nate lay down on his back in the middle of the bed. "I love 69 blowjobs in the morning," he said, and waited for Martha to straddle her knees across his head, and then lean forward and she began teasing his granite cock with her tongue. Nate lifted his head up and dove his tongue up her split pussy, and Martha accepted his action as her cue to take him deep, and she began sucking him hard while she jerked his seven inch shaft with her encircled thumb and finger. 

Nate probed deeper up her fuck hole while Martha intensified her sucking and jerking. Soon Nate felt his balls start rumbling, and he brought his hand around to her rosebud, and started playing gently. He wanted to stick it in, but he hadn't prepared for this - his KY was still in his suitcase. So instead he repositioned his head, and started rimming Martha's asshole with his tongue, and he was rewarded instantly by harder and faster sucking. Nate alternated between rimming her rosebud and ramming his tongue right up her freshly showered chute while Martha sucked him toward euphoria. 

Finally Nate felt his balls ready to blow, and he jammed his tongue up her anus as far as he could. Nate blasted load after load of hot jism into Martha's still sucking mouth. She swallowed each load down, and then sucked out the next. When his final wave ended, Nate relaxed into the bed while Martha delicately sucked and licked his still hard cock.

She continued sucking and kissing him gently, until the tip of his cock became too sensitive and he quietly asked her to stop. She dismounted him, turned end for end, and lay beside him, resting her arm over his chest and her head on his shoulder.

He used the bedspread to cocoon them again and rested his arms over her chest. In her post-orgasmic, post-beach-running exhaustion, Martha fell asleep in his arms. He listened to her gentle breathing, feeling her breasts press on his chest with each breath she took. 

Martha woke up 45 minutes later. "Wow," she whispered. "That was quite the workout."

Nate squeezed her in his arms and she sighed. She wished this was real. 

- - - 

By Tuesday afternoon Nate and Martha were beginning to look well-tanned. They ran the beach together every morning, then they sun tanned on the beach. By noon it was too hot in the sun, so they took a nap, often complimented by some bedroom pleasures. By midafternoon they would hit the pool, and some more sun tanning, and then out to dinner, and followed by some in-bed carnal dessert. 

It was 3:30 on Tuesday afternoon, and they had just come out to the pool. Martha ordered her usual pina colada, and Nate had a beer. The waiter brought their drinks in plastic cups by the pool. 

"Did you say you would take me anywhere?" Martha asked.

"No," Nate said. "I said when our deal was over, I would take you anywhere within reason." 

"No, but you said you would take me here or anywhere I wanted to go."

"What did you have in mind?" Nate asked.

"This is beautiful, and I am not sure I have ever seen a more spectacular beach vacation ..."

"But ..." Nate jumped in.

"I really wanted to see Berlin. I've never been."

"When would you want to go?" 

"I don't know," she said. "How long does it take to drive there?"

"About three hours," Nate guessed. "We could be there by eight."

"Tonight?!" Martha asked with surprise. 

"Why not?" Nate said. "We probably only have two or three more days together."

"You'd do that - pull up and go just for me?"

"Why not?" Nate shrugged. "It seems to me all you've been doing is things for other people. Why not let me do something for you?"

"And we'd still be on our deal?" she asked, wondering if Nate was willing to go that far in doing nice things for her.

"Of course," Nate shrugged.

"Have you been to Berlin?"

"Many times," Nate nodded. "I could show you around."

"I'd like that." She paused in thought. 

Nate hesitated before broaching the next subject. "As you know, I am in the counter terrorism business. And in that business, we have access to various kinds of information." She waited, saying nothing. "After we met, and after you made your proposition to me, I ran a routine background check on you."

"Why?" 

"Because," Nate explained, "I didn't know who I was dealing with. I already had a run-in with one family member who lied about me in a potentially damaging way. I wanted to know if you were part of a shake-down - a scam."

"You think by offering," she looked around, realizing someone could be listening, "you know, that I was trying to scam you?"

"You'd be surprised," Nate nodded, "what people would go through to try to extort money out of someone."

"I suppose," Martha thought, but that only applies to someone with a lot of money or a lot of power, she didn't say. "Why are you telling me this?" Martha asked instead.

"I saw your credit report. I know you are going back home to a mortgage you can't pay and high interest credit card bills coming out your ass."

"What's that to you?" she complained.

"Because I want to help you, and before you get up and walk away, it's not what you think." She waited. "Here's my offer, and hear me through to the end. I can buy your house - contents and all. You'd have to move out, unless you can pay the rent, which I don't think you can, but here's the thing - I will hold on to your house and, when you're ready, when you get your feet back on the ground, you can buy it back, and I won't charge you profit."

"So how does that help me?" she asked.

"I'm not done," he said. "Once you move out, come live with me. Not as my subservient," he added quickly, "but as my friend."

"As your GILR-friend?" she challenged, emphasized 'girl'.

"I'd like that, but we would have to take it one step at a time," he said, "but ultimately it's up to you. Get out of that mess you're in. It must be eating you up inside. Clear your head and take a break for a while. Travel around and see Europe with me on weekend trips, and the occasional week long trip like this. Then, when you get your feet back on the ground, buy your house back, or go somewhere else. The point is, you will not live under a cloud of debt that never goes away."

"I thought you were going to offer to pay me to stay here and have sex with you."

"I can see why you thought I was headed that way," he nodded. "It's why I wanted you to hear me out completely."

"And while I'm here, what would I do."

"I've spoken to my client. You can work part time for them through my company," Nate said, "doing real work that pays real money. They're always looking for smart, educated English speaking people."

"But what if I wanted to stay here and get paid for having sex with you?"

"I ... ah ... suppose we could ... maybe ...," Nate faltered, mostly because he had no intention of continuously paying out as much money as he did in the past month. 

"Joking!" she sang out with a gotcha smile, and then her face turned serious. 

"Wouldn't I need a super-top-secret security clearance to work with your client?

"Not at first. I'll admit, without a security clearance, your job will be pretty menial. But you can get cleared through my company, and it wouldn't need to be top secret to do some pretty interesting stuff. We can put a rush on the processing - it's not something most companies can do, but because of my NATO connections, it would only take a month or two to get it. Plus it's worth having one anyway."

"It's a lot to think about."

"I know," Nate nodded. "But I want you to be certain my offer is serious."

"I know it is," she looked at his eyes. "That's why I have to think about it so carefully." She paused. "What about Briana," 

"What about her?" Nate wasn't sure where Martha was going.

"Where would she live after I sell the house?"

"Martha, she's 28 years old," Nate pointed out the obvious.

"I know, I know."

"Tap, tap, tap," Nate said as he tapped himself on his chest.

"Let's not go there," Martha snapped with a bitter tone.

"Okay, look," Nate raised his palms in surrender, "I've made my serious offer. I won't bother you about it again, but I will answer any questions you have."

"Okay," she nodded. She took another sip of her drink. "If it is okay with you, I would like to go to Berlin tonight."

Nate stood up from his lounge chair by the pool and extended his hand to her. She was reclined in her chair, wearing the white bikini he bought for her at the store. She protested it was too small, but Nate genuinely thought it was just right - not at all revealing, but showed off her attractive curves. 

She put her pina colada on the small table beside her chair, took his hand, and pulled herself up. Then Martha pulled on her beach cover and slipped on her flip flops he bought for her. They walked hand-in-hand to the hotel elevator with their drinks.  

Once they arrived at the room, Martha needed to use the bathroom, and while she did behind the locked door, Nate retrieved his cell phone and checked his messages. When Martha came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing only her see-through beach cover the way Nate had told her, Nate was still preoccupied with his cell phone. She could see he was not reading email anymore - he was tapping buttons, using some app.

She stood momentarily in her see-through cover, when Nate looked up at her with a whimsical expression. "What?" Martha asked, checking her single piece of clothing for a stain or defect.

Nate walked to her, bent forward, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You're free," he announced quietly.

"I'm free? What is that supposed ... Oh my God! Nate, do you mean ..." Nate just nodded. "You received your payment?" she asked, verifying what she already understood.

"I got the email from Brandt while we were at the pool," Nate nodded. "I just read it now. I just checked my bank balance - it's all there."

"So I don't have to ..." her words were arrested by the magnitude of her newfound splendor.

"You don't have to do anything." She hugged him hard, and then went to her suitcase. She stripped off her pull-over, and rustled through her suitcase for some sensible underwear. Nate watched with melancholic anticipation, wondering if this was the last time he'd ever see her naked. Martha wore the dark red skirt Nate bought for her long ago. Next she fastened a bra around her beauties, and finally pulled a white T-shirt over top. Nate had to admit, she looked good.

Martha was still beaming with a smile when her expression collapsed into concern again. "What am I going to do?"

"We can still go to Berlin. I'll pay for everything, and you just be my guest," Nate offered, "we can stay here as we had planned, or I can take you to an airport."

Martha sat on the corner of the bed and rested for a long time in deep thought. "If I suggest a different option, will you hate me?"

"Highly unlikely," Nate smiled.

"Oh, wait!" Martha slapped her forehead. "It won't work. My passport and purse and money are in Hamburg."

"No," Nate corrected her. "I brought them here in case something like this came up."

"Where?!" Martha looked around the room worriedly. 

"They are locked in the hotel safe downstairs." Martha nodded, realizing of course that's what Nate would do. "So what's your plan that I will hate."

"Take me to Berlin," she said, "and leave me there - alone. I have so much to think about - not just about you. I need space - on my own. I'll fly home from there."

"That sounds like a very smart plan," Nate conceded. 

"You like it?" she smiled.

"Yes," Nate lied, "because it is the best thing for you." 

She stood up from the edge of the bed and hugged him again. "You are one warped motherfucker," she said, still holding him tight, "but your heart is in the right place."

"So," Nate pulled away, "we leave for Berlin tonight."

"Yes, please," she asked softly, looking into his eyes. Without a word, Nate started packing, and then so did she.

As they checked out of the Rugen Prince hotel, Nate retrieved Martha's valuables, and returned his key for the safety deposit box and got his deposit back. Then he asked the concierge to book a room for Martha for three days in Berlin. "Make sure it is a nice room in a nice hotel," he told the concierge, "and pay for all three days and breakfast in advance on my credit card," he instructed. 

They drove to Berlin, listening to Nate's playlist on his phone. Martha was deep in thought most of the trip, but at one point she looked at Nate.

"I am not saying I will, but if I come to live with you," she announced, "there would have to be certain conditions."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 12



"Such as," Nate prompted. 

"First, you have to delete every copy, every record, every print-out, every picture and every video you ever took of Briana and me, separate or together. No back-up copies, nothing left."

"Okay," Nate nodded.

"Second, we would have to have a balance about power - and I mean about everything, not just sex. It won't be your way all the time." 

"We can work that out," Nate assured her. 

"And if you do something nice for me, there will be no automatic understanding that I owe you, or have to pay you back somehow."

"Sure," Nate looked at her briefly as he drove.

"You promise?"

"I do," he nodded solemnly, realizing only afterward the double entendre of that phrase. 

After another half hour of music, she asked "What's in it for you to buy my house?"

"It's a good investment," Nate suggested. "I've only seen it twice, but unless things have changed, I can make more money on rent than I am with my investments now." He paused. "You're in a good location. I am sure I can find a junior diplomat who will rent it fully furnished."

"How will we settle on price?"

"You get two appraisals," Nate shrugged, "and I'll get two appraisals. We'll take the average." 

Martha nodded, understanding the concept, but unclear on the hidden implications. "I need to think about that," she warned. Nate nodded, and Martha fell silent again.

An hour later they pulled up to the Radisson Blu Hotel in Berlin. "Oh, Nate," Martha protested as he pulled the Audi up to the building, "I can't afford a hotel like this."

"I've already paid for three nights and breakfasts," Nate offered as he pulled the car up to the front doors. "I figure if you need to time and space to think, then you can't be worried about how to pay for it." He stepped out of the car, walked around, and opened her door. 

"Thank you," she stood out of the car and hugged him, "for everything, asshole," she only half smiled. 

"I seem to get that a lot," he observed sardonically as he opened the back door and retrieved her suitcase. 

"You're a warped motherfucker," she nodded.

"You swear a lot more," he observed. 

"The new me doesn't care as much about what other people think," Martha intuitively gazed into the distance. 

"Good to hear," Nate smiled. He looked her in the eyes. "You take care, and tell me what you decide."

"I promise," Martha smiled, and without another word, she turned and walked away, carrying her suitcase and purse. Nate watched as the doorman opened the door, and Martha disappeared into the hotel. He got in his car, and drove home.



Mothers and Daughters Pt. 13



Nate's plane touched down at Fiumicino Airport at 1410, or just past two in on Friday afternoon. There were no direct flights out of Hamburg, so Nate flew Swiss Airline through Zurich. After turning of the runway, the aircraft crept along the maze of taxiways to Terminal 1. 

Since the flight was entirely within the European Union, it was considered a domestic flight for customs purposes. There were no passport checks, no declarations, and no delays. Nate walked past the throngs of weary travelers who were waiting seemingly forever at the baggage carousels. He headed for the main doors with holding his carry-on suitcase in his right hand and his laptop case was strapped over his left shoulder. 

A friend from work recommended he use Uber, so he pulled out his smartphone and called up the app he had installed in Hamburg. He had never used Uber before. Germany's reception to the upstart taxi company was cool at best - outright hostile in some cities, and so there was no opportunity for Nate to test the service before this trip. He typed in Piazza di San Pietro as his destination, and the Uber instantly displayed a driver named Fabio would pick him up in a green Fiat in four minutes. The app estimated the fare to would be 42 Euros and would take 41 minutes, which Nate understood was about half the regular cab fare. 

He pushed open the heavy glass doors, and stepped on to the curb of the airport arrivals lanes. The bedlam of Italian traffic assaulted his senses with acrid exhaust fumes and an unending din of motors and agitated voices. The October afternoon was on the cool side of warm. His smartphone read 22 degrees Celsius - perfect tourist weather. Nate had checked the Rome weather before he left Hamburg. It was supposed to be like this for a week, and he packed accordingly. As he waited for the Uber taxi, Nate pulled up Martha's new cell number on his contacts list, and sent a text. "Just landed. ETA St Pete Sq 45 min."

He switched back to the Uber app to check on Fabio's progress when his phone buzzed with an incoming text. "Great!" was her instant reply with a smiling emoticon. A rush of memories flooded back to Nate at seeing her happy message. It had been three months since he watched her disappear through the doorways into the Berlin hotel. He had been busy since then. Sarah and Dillon visited him in August. In September he flew to Washington for a weeklong conference, and from there he flew to Canberra, Australia. Although not part of NATO, Australia shares strong ties with the North Atlantic defense alliance, and has seen its share in global cooperation in counterterrorism. 

When he returned to Hamburg in late September, the post-summer work cycle was in full swing at the office, and Nate has been running ragged since. He welcomed the break to see Martha, although his client was less enthused with this vacation plans, even though he had re-accrued all the overtime he had burned off when Briana and Martha were in Hamburg. 

Somehow during that frenetic period, Nate found time to purchase Martha's house in Canada. He worked through a real estate agent, his bank, his accountant, his lawyer, a house appraiser, a property manager, a painter and light contractor, and a home stager. Thankfully the real estate agent was savvy enough to handle a lot of the initial grunt and coordination work until the property manager took over after the sale, but it still left Nate sifting through dozens of emails and faxes that demanded his attention at every hour of the day between the European, American, and Australian time zones. 

Martha decided she wanted to move out before the snow flies, and so she picked September 30 as the closing date. Nate gave the property manager the first two weeks of October to fix up the house with help from the cleaners, the painter/contractor, and the home stager. With luck it would rent by November first. As of October 24, it was still on the market.

While Nate did not have much time to dwell on memories of Martha, he still couldn't shake a few steamy images. For some reason, the visual that haunted him most frequently was Nate lying on his back when Martha fucked and sucked him while Briana kneeled over him on all fours, letting him suckle those big, juicy, hanging tits while he finger fucked Briana's pussy. 

Standing at the outdoor arrivals, Nate grew self-consciously aware his forbidden mother-daughter memories were firming up a hard-on. He shook off the mental image, and stepped diagonally sideways a few times, hoping the movement would smooth out anything resembling a bulge in his pants. Nate looked up the multi-lane roadway, and picked out a green car slaloming between parked and slow moving cars with no regard for the lane markings. As it drew closer, Nate recognized the Fiat emblem on the front of the hood. He raised up his hand up toward the driver, holding his Uber app smart phone to draw attention. 

The green car veered left, away from Nate, cutting off a vehicle in the lane beside him, and disappeared behind a parked bus, and moments later, the green car nosed around the front of the bus, obstructing all hope of escape for the much larger vehicle. The green car came to a stop at a 45 degree angle to the curb. Nate picked up his suitcase with his laptop case still strapped over his shoulder. The young fellow hopped out of his car and burst into a staccato of Italian words, not one of which Nate understood. The driver was no more than 25 with black hair in shiny, tight curls. He had a rough, unshaven beard that didn't work with his face. His dark brown eyes scanned Nate while he continued chattering with hyperactive abandon. He wore a plain black T shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His twitchy, wiry body exuded the kind of restless energy that never stops. If ever there was a case for Riddlin, Nate thought. 

"Uber?" Nate asked, holding up his cell phone to the driver, hoping no further translation was required. Nate's one-word utterance catapulted the already agitated driver into a hysterical tirade Nate didn't understand, but at least the manic driver gestured Nate to come toward the car as he popped open the trunk. Nate set the small suitcase in the empty trunk, but he kept his laptop case with him. Nate opened the back right door, and settled into the seat while the driver continued jabbering excitedly. He continued ranting even after Nate closed the car door and it was obvious no one was listening. Nate looked around at the vehicle's austere interior. At least it was clean.

The animated driver sat in his seat and closed his door, still chatting endlessly, not one word of which Nate recognized. The car, which was angled parked in front of the bus, lurched forward toward without warning. Fabio yanked the steering wheel hard left, narrowly missing a young family waiting for their own ride, and raced away from the arrivals curb, evidently unaware or unsympathetic to the single family holocaust he nearly committed. Nate understood that, by having typed in his destination on the smartphone app, the driver already knew his destination, which was one of the great advantages of Uber in a city with a foreign language. 

Fabio continued his excited one-sided discourse as he careened the car left and right, accelerating into traffic gaps Nate would have guessed were too small, even for the compact Fiat. Nate pulled his seatbelt over his shoulder, and secured it tightly across his lap, and checked it several times during the trip. 

Once they reached the A91 six lane highway, Fabio seemed to relax, and his driving improved to only treacherous. Nate followed their progress on his GPS smartphone app, and he verified they were headed in the right direction. After about ten minutes the driver took the exit to the A90 north, and ten minutes later, he exited to another six lane highway marked the SS1 on Nate's GPS map. Ten minutes again, Fabio made several turns, and soon Nate realized they were driving alongside the outside wall of Vatican City. He put the GPS away and enjoyed the view. The massive stone wall made several sharp angled turns, and Fabio zipped around the blind corners that hugged the wall without slowing down. 

They passed an arched gateway on the right with the words Musei Vaticanai inscribed across the top of the arch. Even Nate knew that translated into the Vatican Museum. A long line-up of people waited to pass through a smaller entrance. The line-up extended far down the road's sidewalk. Nate guessed these were visitors of the museum, and was surprised to see so many at three in the afternoon. Street vendors scattered around the triangular shaped parking lot next to the larger museum entrance. Fabio continued down the road, past the museum as he raced beside the line-up of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Thankfully a railing separated the road from the sidewalk, sparing the pedestrians from an untimely fate as Fabio sped past. The little Fiat came so close to the railing, there was no room for Nate to open his passenger door if he tried. 

They made another high-speed sharp right turn around a corner of the Vatican City wall, and passed another entrance into the city that was gated barred by heavy wooden doors. Soon the wall retreated to the right, and Fabio plunged the compact car into a maze of tiny streets. It was here that Nate appreciated the benefit of driving a small car. A larger vehicle could not have squeezed between some of the parked cars. 

Fabio wheeled the car into a left turn, and a right, and then another left onto a short cobblestone road. Ahead Nate saw the street end at a forest of concrete pillars. Fabio stopped the car. Nate noticed an alert policeman observe the stopped car, and he walked toward the car. Fabio jumped out and called something to the policeman, who halted his advance, but watched carefully. 

Fabio opened Nate's door, and announced some grand proclamation in Italian, which Nate took to mean they had arrived. He pulled his laptop case strap over his shoulder, and stepped out. Fabio had already dropped Nate's suitcase on the ground beside the car. Nate closed the passenger door, and Fabio climbed into his driver's seat, still yapping at no one in particular, and the Fiat lurched into a U turn and roared back up the cobblestone road. 

Nate walked the rest of the way down the cobblestone road, and passed through the forest of pillars, He found a steel railing circling the perimeter. He walked along the railing until he found an opening, and there before his feet lay St. Peter's Square - strangely named, because it was round. The famous basilica loomed high at the far end. Nate had seen the square in pictures, on the news, and in movies, but nothing did justice to the experiencing vast magnificence in person. 

At least a thousand people milled and stood around the plaza. It would take Nate hours to find Martha. 

"At St Pete Sq - where are u?" he texted to Martha. 

"@ obolik" she replied instantly. He assumed she meant the central obelisk that rose above the round plaza. Even in the crowd, the towering needle was always visible. As he closed in on the stone monument, he saw several groups of tourists snapping photos at its base, and then finally he saw Martha scanning the crowd without seeing him. He had forgotten how lovely her face was. Her hair was both shorter and lighter color than he remembered - it accented her high cheek bones nicely. 

She was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a thick white T shirt, and a white short sleeved cotton shirt over top, which she casually unbuttoned down to her bosom. He noticed she wore comfortable runners on her feet. He closed within ten feet and then she saw him. Her smiling face lit up the afternoon sky. He dropped his suitcase at her feet, and they spontaneously embraced each other like lifelong friends. They finally pulled apart, and she reached up to meet his lowered head and they kissed each other's cheek. Nate moved over to kiss her other cheek, but she misinterpreted his intent, and she opened her mouth and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. It was awkwardly clumsy. Nate held her face in his hands, and he kissed the first cheek again, and then the other, and she returned each quick kiss. "That's how we do it in Italy," he smiled. 

"You look good," she raised her eyebrows appreciatively as she pulled back, but still holding on to him.

"You should know," he smiled, "you are stunningly gorgeous." 

She reached behind his neck, and pulled him in, and kissed him long on the lips. "That's how I do it in Italy," she whispered as she drew back. They looked into each other's' eyes until the public intimacy turned awkward, and they ached for a segue. 

Martha pulled her arms away. "Good flight?" she asked with a forced neutral tone.

"Flight was fine," Nate nodded, "but the taxi ride here damn near killed me." 

"I can't look" she nodded sympathetically. "I just pull out my phone and Google something."

"Have you been here long," he asked, picking up his suitcase.

"A few hours," she nodded again. "I'm ready for a coffee."

"You're the expert," he offered sincerely, "lead the way," he pointed vaguely by lifting his hand holding the suitcase. She smiled at his joke. Even though she arrived in Rome only yesterday, she knew that was a day longer than he had ever spent in the city. 

"I saw a couple of coffee shops that way," she pointed back to the direction Nate came from. "I think it's, like, a federal crime or something to open a Starbucks here." They turned and walked together toward the entrance Nate came from, and she took his free hand in hers.

"Right!" Martha exclaimed, remembering Nate's kids were due to visit them over the summer. It was half an hour later. They were sitting at a sidewalk café on Via della Conciliazione, just outside the square. The restaurant catered to the hordes of tourists, which is to say the service lacked any semblance of charm or efficiency. But they were enjoying coffee and pastries at a sidewalk Rome café. "How did your visit with your kids go? I forget their names."

"Sarah came out first," Nate explained. "She stayed with me two weeks. After the first week, Dillan flew over, also for two weeks, so we had one week all together." Nate paused. "It was great, but my God they grow so fast."

"Tell me about it," Martha nodded. "I can't believe Briana's twenty eight."

"How' she doing?" Nate asked genuinely. 

"We're kind of off again," Martha sighed. "I guess that's not a big difference from before, but I had hoped we could talk about things after ... you know." Nate understood Martha referred to their reluctant three-way tryst with him in order to rescue Briana from jail. 

"So," Nate paused, "you don't resent me for doing what I did?"

"I did for a while," Martha conceded, "but the more I thought about it, the more I realized Briana brought this whole fucking thing on herself." She spat out the last few words bitterly, not realizing the double entendre she made. "I don't know," Martha paused, looking across the street at nothing in particular. "Maybe it will be good for her in the long run. I can't tell." She took a sip of her coffee. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized you were right."

"About what?" Nate asked, genuinely curious.

"Everything," she offered neutrally. "I really thought hard about what you said about respect. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was not respecting myself or Briana. Only make promises you will keep - that's what you said, right?" Nate nodded. It was a paraphrase of half of what he said, but close enough. "Well, one thing I figured out in Berlin was I had to stop rushing to Briana's rescue all the time, and promise to be there for her to clean up her mess. I mean," she shook her head, "I tried the tough love thing, but I think I went about all wrong once I started thinking about respect and promises."

"So what's changed?" Nate asked warmly. 

"Well, for one I say 'no' to Briana a lot more. I think that's partly why she doesn't talk to me." Martha paused in thought for a while. "You know, she did some horrible things to me - some disgusting things - I didn't know about before. I realized she did those things because she didn't respect me." Martha drew in a big, cleansing breath, "In the end, I was the one who had to make a change." She tapped herself on the chest, mimicking the time Nate had tapped her on the chest until she screamed at him to stop. 

She took another sip of coffee and checked her cell phone. Finding nothing of importance, Martha continued. "Like I said, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was Briana, not you, that fucked this whole thing up. I mean," she paused in thought, "if it weren't for Briana, none of this ever would have happened in the first place. And later I realized, if it weren't for you, she would probably be getting raped by some neo-Nazi skin head dyke prison gang."

"You have changed," Nate nodded at her. 

"That's what Briana kept on telling me. I've changed. I've changed. I kept on telling her 'no' when I wouldn't make a promise I couldn't keep, and she accused me of being a bad mom. Finally, she called me an asshole and she said I had become just like you."

"Ouch! That's gotta hurt," he smiled wryly. 

"It did at first, but then the more I thought about that, the more I realized it was a wake-up call. Yeah, I changed - I wasn't fixing her mistakes all the time." 

"So" Nate asked the big question, "why did you decide to come over and meet me."

"Well," she sighed, "in part, I need the money. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I actually enjoyed parts of being with you, just not when I had to babysit Briana all the time. That time in Rugen," she smiled, "was fantastic." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Even the sex was great."

Nate smiled, deciding there was no response to her compliment without it sounding cheesy. "And now ..." Nate prompted, letting her finish the sentence. 

"And now," she took in a deep breath, "I'm here sipping coffee with my former dominator, wondering if it is possible to drop the bad stuff and keep the good."

"You were smart to choose Italy," Nate complimented her. "Neutral ground."

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "I was worried if I just went back to Hamburg, I'd slip into old habits, and put my hands behind my head and spread my legs." She realized she said that last sentence too loud. Martha sheepishly looked around to the other tables, but no one seemed to have taken notice. She looked back at Nate embarrassedly.

"So do you thing that's possible - can you separate the good from the bad?"

"That's up to you," she didn't hesitate. "I figure I've got nothing to lose. If it doesn't work out, I'll go back home, live in a cottage by the sea, and paint."

"You're a painter?" Nate asked with surprise. 

"Not really," Martha smiled, "but hey ..." Nate realized it was a metaphor. 

"Well, I've been thinking about it too," Nate leaned toward her. "Ever since you agreed to sell your house and come here, I've been trying to figure out how to make this work."

"And ...?" Martha invited. 

Nate offered "I remember you saying there had to be a balance of power between us." Martha nodded. "I was worried that will trip us up. I think it's really important for you to know you have an equal say in things, especially after our one-sided relationship."

"Me too," she half smiled, appreciating the direction he was taking. 

"So I did some research," Nate continued, "and I found this interesting article online. It's called 

My Turn - Your Turn. The author is some psychologist, and she claims this program restores balance into a relationship." Martha remained silent, waiting to hear more. "Couples take turns being in charge," he explained. "One week, he's in charge, and she has to do everything he says, and the next week she's in charge, and he's the one doing everything. According to this article, couples learn how to be both selfish for their own desires and selfless to please each other. Considering our history, I thought that might work for us."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 13



"So," Martha paused with her eyebrows furled down, "you want to go back to a dominating relationship?"

"No," Nate shook his head. "I want to prove to you that, when we put our mind to it, we can be good for each other." 

Martha paused in thought for a long time. "Why not just agree on everything?" she offered a counter proposal.

"Because that never works," Nate spoke from experience. "If a couple has to agree on everything, either they never agree, or one of them always capitulates to prevent a stand-off."

"So let me get this straight," Martha crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, distancing herself from him. "You want to go back to our old ways, and expect me to enjoy it?"

"No," Nate didn't take offence to her mischaracterization. "It won't be the old way at all. It will be a new way where we learn to trust and respect each other, as equals."

"I like the sound of that," she remained with her arms crossed, "but I don't get how your little article does that."

"Remember half the time, you're in control, and I trust you to do the right thing," Nate pointed out. "And when I'm in control, you will learn to trust me to do the right thing too."

"And if you do make me do something I hate?" she played devil's advocate.

"Then you go home and I lose."

"You lose ... what do you lose?" she challenged him cynically.

"You." He wasn't smiling. Martha looked deeply into his eyes, and she saw a fire. She had seen that fire before. He was deadly serious. She shivered, wondering if that Romanian rapist saw the same fire the instant before Nate killed him. Martha closed her eyes and shook her head, returning her thoughts to the here and now, and opened her eyes again.

"Nate," Martha sighed, unfolding her arms and leaning forward again, "I don't want this to get complicated ... fuck that!" Martha blurted out, rolling her eyes, "it's already way past complicated." Martha paused, arguing something privately with herself until she decided to just say it. "Nate, I know you were hoping for something more, but I did tell you I was just coming here for a vacation and some fun. Nothing else. I don't mean to be a bitch, Nate, but I'm not sure I can live with you. Now or ever." 

"I know," Nate leaned forward to meet her across the small table. Their heads were nearly touching. "But I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't try."

They locked each other's eyes in silence for a long while. Martha thought about all the things Nate did for Briana and her - the money, the Hamburg hotel, the lawyers, the school fee, the AeB bond, Rugen Island, the berlin Hotel. She thought about Nate overpowering those three armed Romanians and saving Briana from certain rape, and much worse. She thought about Nate's code of honor - only promise what you can do, and do what it takes to keep your promises. She thought about a lifetime of men letting her down, and now she was inches away from the one man she knew she could count on to keep his promises. She wondered why that terrified her so much. 

Martha sensed she was standing on the edge of a cliff. She thought about what Nate just said about regretting it for the rest of his life. It resonated with something her father always told her. 'In life,' her father would say, 'you only regret the things you didn't find the courage to do.' She could make a leap of faith, or she could safely back away from the cliff and take the sensible way home. Only one thing was certain to Martha. If she didn't jump off the cliff during this Rome trip, she would never again have the chance. All she was lacking was the courage. 

"You are one warped motherfucker," Martha finally whispered with a shaky voice, and leaned into him and kissed his lips.

A few minutes later, Nate paid the bill. They decided to go back to her hotel, drop off his suitcase, and then go out for supper. Martha said the hotel was too far to walk, so Nate called up his Uber app, and this time his smartphone showed Giusy would arrive in a white Renault in three minutes. They saw the white Renault pull up, and to their surprise, Giusy was a woman. 

The drive to Martha's hotel was better than Nate's earlier trip, which is to say it was somewhat less heart-stopping. The hotel was small - a squarish three story building. Martha's room was barely large enough to fit the double bed, but it had a private bathroom, which not all rooms did. 

Nate dropped his suitcase on the floor on a narrow strip of carpeting on the far side of the bed, out of the way so they wouldn't trip over it. Martha said she needed to use the bathroom, so Nate rested on the edge of the bed, having nowhere else to sit. 

Nate heard the toilet flush, and the water run, and Martha remained in the bathroom a few minutes longer. Then the door pulled open, and Martha stepped out buck naked. How he longed for those firm breasts and her slim figure. Her pussy wasn't shaven clean anymore, but it was neatly trimmed into a triangle. "I can't stop thinking about your special massage," she smiled, and walked to Nate, who was still seated on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around his head, and gently pulled his face between her perfectly sculpted tits. 

Nate wrapped his arms around her naked back as his manhood sprang to life. He gently kissed the skin between her breasts. Martha pushed forward, rocking Nate onto the bed, and she collapsed on top of him with a playful shriek as he sank into the mattress. Martha slide down Nate's body until they were face to face, and they kissed each other hungrily. Nate ran his hand down her back, and pulled her ass inward, simultaneously dry humping her crotch. Martha felt Nate's bulge rub against her naked pussy, and she heard herself moan in delightful anticipation. She sat up and unbuttoned his shirt as he began gently caressing her lovely breasts. 

With his shirt open, Martha planted kisses on his chest, and slowly moved down, gently kissing his tummy, then lower, until she reached his pants. She undid the belt buckle and opened up his zipper, and then Martha pulled them down enough to reach in and pull out his throbbing love piston. Without delay, Martha engulfed his rigid cock into her loving mouth, and sucked on it heartily.

She pulled away, and grabbed the sides of his pants. Nate lifted his hips to help, and Martha tugged his pants and underpants to his knees. She pulled his shoes off, and then the pants and underwear came off. Nate scooted backwards to the center of the bed, and Martha crawled over him, positioning her hips over his saluting flag pole, and she lowered herself onto him. Martha let out a deep sigh when her eager, wet pussy engulfed him.

They started rocking their hips in unison. Martha sat up, and Nate grabbed her tits as they started fucking earnestly. Nate enjoyed the visual of Martha riding him, but the position wasn't working - he wasn't getting enough traction. After a few minutes, he reached up and grabbed both her sides, and in a single quick motion, Nate pulled Martha off to one side and rolled on top of her. She squealed with delightful surprise when she landed on her back. Nate positioned himself between her opening legs, and gently re-entered. 

He stroked inside her slowly, carefully at first, and once her natural lubricants eased the way, he started fucking her hard with purposeful abandon. Martha moaned in carnal pleasure as Nate rhythmically rammed his piston deep inside. Nate's balls responded with the promise of rapture, and Nate heard himself grunting on every stroke. As his climax grew closer, Nate's grunting turned deeper, more menacing. Martha dug her fingernails into his back, and that only provoked Nate to thrust harder. 

He felt it coming, and Nate rammed her in a savage race to the finish line. She barked out little cries on each stroke. At last Nate unleashed his first salvo. He drilled his cock deep into her pussy and bellowed out a low growl. Martha let out a guttural, animalistic moan, and she raked her fingernails hard down his back. Nate pumped dose after dose of his love potion deep inside Martha, and she sighed hoarsely as she felt her vagina fill with his warm elixir. 

When Nate's last orgasmic spasm finally faded, he stayed on top, keeping his cock inside Martha. He kissed her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around his head, and squeezed him tight. 

Nate felt his member begin to wither. He pulled out of Martha, and lay on his side facing her, resting his right hand on top of her left breast. "God I needed that," Martha sighed. 

"YOU needed that?!" Nate shot back incredulously. He rose to his knees, and started tickling Martha's naked sides - first the left, then the right. She burst out laughing, unable to stop. "No!" she hoarsed between giggles, "please stop!" she continued laughing. Each time she tried to cover up one side with her hands, he switched to the other side, and her laughing became louder and more agonizing. 

"Oh please stop!" she cried again, this time with a hint of desperation in her laughing voice. The next time Nate switched from left to right, he didn't - in an instant, he flashed his right hand between her thighs, and started massaging her pussy, right over her clitoris. Martha's transformation was instantaneous - she went from laughing uncontrollably to rigidly holding her breath as Nate started rubbing his fingers up and down over her hypersensitive clitoris. 

She lifted her back slightly, and Nate reached beneath her ass with his left hand, and planted his middle finger on her asshole without going in. He alternately massaged her ass and pussy - as he rubbed her clit up, he pushed her asshole down, and vice versa, creating a see-saw motion that stimulated her entire pelvic region. The dual-action massage drove Martha's senses wild, and she felt a massive climax approaching in record time. 

Martha arched her back sharply as every muscle in her body clenched when her clit flashed out an orgasmic blast through her quivering physique. Her eyes slammed shut and her mouth grimaced ungracefully as enrapturing wave fronts tore through every living tissue. Nate dug his massaging fingers deep against her clitoris, and the extra pressure yielded an orgasmic aftershock nearly as powerful as the first. Martha realized she was still holding her breath, and at last she exhaled a loud puff through O-shaped lips. When her orgasmic ripples finally washed away, Nate lay down beside her again, and gently cupped her breast with his hand. "I really needed that," Nate declared, and they both giggled in post coital euphoria. 

As euphoria gave way to fatigue, Martha fell asleep with Nate's hand on her breast. He realized she was in day two of jet lag recovery, so a little nap couldn't hurt. He rested beside her with his eyes closed and listened to her soft breathing. The post orgasmic release must have sapped his energy too, because Nate sensed he was waking up when Martha rolled onto her side, with her back to him. He lifted his hand up as she rolled, letting her breast slip away unmolested. 

Nate pulled up a quilt that was folded at bottom of the bed, and covered them both. Then he cuddled behind Martha in spoon formation, resting his hand on her shoulder. Nate felt Martha silently take hold of his hand, and she guided it over her chest and rested it on top of her breast again. They fell asleep together under the quilt. 

Nate wasn't sure how long they were asleep, but when he awoke, the light was fading through the window. He guessed between six and seven o'clock. He pulled away from Martha, and rolled her onto her back. She drew in a deep breath as she awoke. "What time is it?" she half whispered. Nate didn't answer. Instead he slipped his right hand down her tummy, and landed his fingers over her soft pussy, and started massaging her clit again. "Oh my," Martha smiled, "is it that time already?"

Nate sat up on his knees, next to Martha's head, and he continued massaging her pussy toward her second orgasm of the afternoon. She closed her eyes and arched her back slightly. His own love rod was responding to the excitement. With his left hand, Nate gently turned Martha's face toward him, and with his cock right there, he touched it to her lips, and she welcomed it in while he continued the clitoral massage. 

Martha turned her shoulders toward Nate to get a better oral purchase on his love machine while Nate increased the speed and pressure over her clit with his right hand. Martha moaned softly with Nate's cock deep in her mouth as she felt her clitoris building toward its impending release. Her breathing deepened and quickened, and Nate heard the breaths rush in and out her nose as Martha continued sucking heartily on his erect rod. 

Nate quickened his tempo again, and he saw Martha's left hand clench into a fist. He could see pre-orgasmic tension mounting through her whole body. She sped up the bobbing of her head up and down his shaft. "I want to be inside your mouth when you cum," he whispered, and he heard the hoarse breathing through her nose grow louder as she approached detonation. 

One final push - Nate increased the pressure on her clit - and that was all it took. Martha let out a long, cock-muffled moan as her hips rose high off the bed, and she locked a deep-space vacuum on Nate's member as orgasmic waves rippled through her flesh. Nate dug his fingers into her clit, launching a second fiery orgasmic wave through Martha's trembling body. Her moan escalated to a loud throat growl, but she didn't release the suction on Nate's cock.

At last her ecstatic climax subsided, and Martha returned her hips to the bed. She pulled away from Nate's cock with a smack of her lips. "I think this buddy could use some 69 action," she said, rising to her knees. 

"Too soon," Nate shook his head, knowing his body well enough that he could not climax only an hour or two after his last orgasm. "I just wanted to feel my cock inside your mouth when I made you cum," he explained softly. They were both on their knees now, on the bed. He moved toward her and kissed her lips. Martha kissed him back lovingly, wrapping her arms around his back, and closed them in a light bear hug. 

"I need a shower," Martha whispered after she pulled away. Now that she was upright, Martha could feel Nate's cum from the earlier fuck trickle down. She leaned forward again, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He kissed her back, and soon they found themselves locked again with their arms wrapped around each other. Finally, Martha pulled away with smiling eyes and climbed off the bed. She padded naked into the bathroom, and closed the door. 

When Martha returned to the room twenty minutes later, she had a towel wrapped around her body. Nate was lying naked on the bed checking his cell phone for emails and news. "You hungry?" Martha asked. Nate didn't say a word, but scooched over to the edge of the bed, sitting up. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her in close. Nate tugged the towel loose, and let it fall to the floor. He locked her in his embrace, and Nate delicately kissed her right breast, then her left. Finally Nate looked up into her eyes. "Yeah," he smiled, "I'm hungry," and returned to planting light kisses on her nipples. 

Martha shooed him away with a smile, and went to her suitcase to pull out some clothes. There was no dresser or any other furniture in the tiny room - just a bed with a deep headboard that extended two feet wide on either side with cubby holes built in to store things. That was the closest thing the room offered to dresser drawers. She opted to just leave her clothing in the suitcase. 

Nate opened his own suitcase, and pulled out a fresh set of clothing after his flight. He pulled on a long sleeve blue shirt and black jeans. Martha wore blue jeans and a long sleeve white button-up blouse and the white denim jacket Nate bought her in Hamburg. He packed his used underwear and socks in a suitcase pocket he repurposed as a laundry hamper, then he folded the pants and shirt he wore earlier, and slipped them into one of the cubby holes of the headboard. Those were articles that were wearable a second time. 

As part of their arrangements, Martha insisted she pay for the hotel in Rome. She warned it would not be as nice as the hotels she stayed in Rugen or Berlin. He understood Martha wanted to exercise some authority and control over their rendezvous, and Nate happy obliged. 

Martha checked her maps app. There were lots of restaurants in walking distance. Last night she went to a small place called La Villetta. They checked the ratings. Martha suggested they try a place called the Crème Caramel. It looked nice, and there were several other restaurants in the vicinity in case they ruled it out. It was only six small blocks away - an easy walk, especially with Nate by her side. 

They locked the room and head down the stairs. Martha's budget didn't include a hotel with an elevator. As they stepped out to the street, Martha took Nate's hand and they strolled through the night air to the restaurant. Nate asked about Briana, and Martha filled him in on what had happened in the past three months.

The friction between Martha and Briana was palpable when Martha returned to Canada. Briana barely spoke with her mother, and wouldn't say why. Martha tried to explain that their time in Germany, while far from ideal for either of them, was considerably better than Briana being held in prison for months, or years. In the end, Martha stopped trying to coddle and accommodate Briana, and she chose to live her own life, which is when she decided to accept Nate's offer and sell the house to him. Briana flew into a screeching tirade when Martha told her about the decision, and the two have not spoken since. Although she saved Briana, Martha feared she may have lost her only daughter. 

Nate ventured Briana would come around given time. He guessed she was conflicted by feelings of guilt, anger, fear, and remorse. Even Briana's early-life crush on Nate might play into her feelings, Nate offered. Martha admitted that was a huge obstacle in her accepting to stay with Nate - apart from her own serious reservations. That Nate was the object of Briana's teenage crush factored heavily into Martha's outlook on the whole situation. The last thing Martha wanted was to become one of those predatory bitch moms who steals her daughter's boyfriends. 

"Remember, Briana and I never had a relationship back then," Nate reminded her. 

"I know," Martha nodded. "But in Briana's mind, it was different." Nate sensed, the great sex notwithstanding, Martha was nowhere close to agreeing to returning to Germany with him. 

They enjoyed a nice dinner at Crème Caramel. Nate chose the veal scaloppini and Martha had a spinach stuffed chicken breast. Over dinner they talked about Nate's trips to Washington and Australia. 

"That's on my bucket list," Martha mused. "I'd love to go to Australia."

"I probably have to go back next year," Nate offered. "You're welcome to join me."

"Seriously?" she asked skeptically. 

"Sure," he shrugged, trying not to oversell it. "It's not a great time of year - it's their winter, which feels more like our fall," he commented, "and it's rainy season."

"So you're going back next year?" she asked inquisitively. 

"Too soon to tell," Nate qualified. "You know how it is, everyone says it was a great trip, we'll have to do it again next year, but then once budgets set in and schedules fill up, you never know." Nate paused. "If I were a betting man, I'd say there's a sixty percent chance I'll go back next year."

"Do you have any other trips coming up?"

"I'm going to Canada for Christmas," he nodded, "to see my kids. And I have to go to Florida, probably in February, for meetings," he added. 

"Florida in February ... too bad," she smirked sarcastically. 

"It's not what it sounds like," Nate countered. "We work all day, get some dinner, and never get out. Spend the whole time in an air conditioned building."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 13



Nate paid the bill and they walked back to the hotel. It was nearly ten o'clock when they entered the room. Martha was still tired from the jet lag, and she wanted to put in an early night. Flying in from the same time zone left Nate fully charged, not to mention his nap in the afternoon. In the hotel room, Martha casually stripped off her clothing and changed into her nightgown in front of him, then she went to the bathroom. "One advantage of already having every possible kind of sex with you already," Martha observed, as she stepped out of the bathroom, "is we we're passed that awkward sexual anxiety."

"Right," Nate nodded. "Now the anxiety is just the good kind." 

Martha half smiled, and then frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," she critiqued. 

"Well, I don't know about you, but I still feel a sexual tension between us, but a good one."

"Yeah," Martha nodded lightly and then kissed him gently on the lips. "I'm going to bed."

"Good night," Nate kissed her again. "I'm going to take my laptop down to the sitting room downstairs. I'll take the key, if that's okay with you."

"Sure," she pointed to the built-in shelf at the far left end of the bed headboard, "it's right there." He looked over. It was a hotel relic - an actual key. Nate couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed in a hotel that still used mechanical keys.  

As she tucked herself under the covers, Nate retrieved his laptop case from the far side of the bed. He leaned over the bed and kissed her one last time, and she kissed him back. He turned out the lights, and slipped out the door, locking it with the key. 

On the main floor was a combined sitting and breakfast room. It was empty at this hour. Nate found a table near a power outlet, and connected his laptop. He didn't know the wifi code for the hotel, so he left the room, walked over to the lobby, and asked at the front desk. A polite young man with sandy brown hair and round glasses knew just enough English to understand Nate's question. He wrote down the wifi name and password on a hotel notepad, and tore off the top sheet, and handed it to Nate. Nate returned to the sitting room, and connected his laptop to the wifi. 

Shortly after he started reading his news clippings, the same clerk entered the room. Using his fractured English, he asked Nate if he would like a drink. The man explained through gestures and single words that Nate was to help himself to anything at the bar, and write down what he took on the ledger. It was an honor system that probably lost less money than it cost for an extra staff. Nate helped himself to some local Italian red wine, wrote down his name and Martha's room number, and made a mental note to pay Martha for the drink that would show up on her hotel bill.

Nate spent nearly an hour reading news and email. Then he put away his personal laptop, and pulled his work laptop out of the other side of the case. After passing through all the security challenges, he connected that laptop to the wifi, and started wading through dozens of emails. Before he knew it, it was past one in the morning. He returned his wine glass to the bar, which he had refilled twice, and packed up his laptops. 

Upstairs, Nate unlocked the door as silently as he could, and softly entered the room. "It's me" he whispered into the darkness, not wanting to wake her, but if the opening door already awoke her, he didn't want her to fear who was entering her chamber. There was no reply. 

Nate carefully put his laptop case down next to the door, making no noise, and then locked the door again. He stripped off his clothing, and piled his things on top of the laptop case. Then he tiptoed two steps across the carpet, and found the bed. There was barely enough light to see the outline of her body under the covers, so he pulled the blankets back on his side and slipped into the bed. 

The double bed felt tiny compared to Nate's king size mattress. He lay on his back with his arms folded tight against his sides, trying not to disturb Martha. She was lying on her side with her back to him. Nate closed his eyes, and waited for a sleep that didn't come. 

Maybe ten or fifteen minutes passed while Nate lay perfectly still. Except for her silent breathing, Martha hadn't made a noise or moved a bit. And then, "Nate" she whispered, with her back to him.

"Yeah," he whispered back casually, not sure why they were whispering anymore. 

"Am I an unfit mother?" Unfit is one of those strange words. It means out of shape, slightly off, or not exactly right. Unless it refers to parenting. Then, 'unfit' is one of the most repulsive, sickening words known to anyone who has raised children. 

"What?" Nate asked more loudly now. He turned on his side to face her, but she kept her back to him. "Look, Briana is twenty eight years old. That had nothing to do with parenting."

"No," Martha spoke softly now, just above a whisper. "I'm not talking about that, or at least," she qualified, "not only that." Martha paused. "Briana told me some awful things - things she did when she was younger. She told me she did them because of me - because of who I am."

Nate thought for a long time in the dark. "I don't know what these things are," he finally offered, "so I can't comment on the specifics. But Martha," he offered sincerely, "you are a caring, loving parent with only the best of intentions. I'm pretty sure that goes a long way to making you a fit parent." He paused for a moment longer. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Martha rolled over to face him. As she did, he moved his arm below her head, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He actually did it because the bed was so small, but he realized it also added a nice touch of intimacy and caring. As she placed her head on his bare shoulder, he was certain he felt tear drops fall onto his skin.

"Have you been crying all night?" he asked softly, stroking her hair gently. 

"No," she sniffled. "I woke up maybe an hour ago, and I couldn't sleep. My mind just started racing, and it kind of crashed here."

Nate nodded absentmindedly in the dark. "Do you feel like talking about it?"

"Not the details," she warned quietly. 

"Okay," Nate offered, trying to say his next words perfectly. "I'm here for you - for whatever you feel comfortable in sharing. I promise I won't judge you."

Martha stayed silent for so long that Nate thought she had either changed her mind or fallen asleep. "Briana told me when she was a teenager - I think maybe sixteen," Martha finally broke the silence, "she had boyfriends who asked her to do things."

Nate had no idea where this was going. He remained quiet until the pause became awkward. "Are you able to tell me any more?" he asked gently. 

"She tells me she didn't actually do anything, until the day she turned eighteen. Then she would have ..." she couldn't finish. Nate continued stroking her hair supportively. "Nate," she sobbed out loud, "she had sex with them while they fantasized about me."

That was so weird. Nate wasn't sure how to respond. He thought about he would feel if Sarah confessed that to him. How did Nate feel knowing Briana was babysitting his kids? "You must have felt horrible when she told you that," he offered.

"Oh God Nate!" she burst open crying now. "There were days I wanted to die. I feel like I molested my own ..." She couldn't finish the sentence. 

Nate wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight while she sprinkled his shoulder with new tears. Now he understood her question about being an unfit parent. 

"Did you do anything to encourage it," Nate asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"No!" she nearly screamed. "I didn't even know it was happening. She never told me until we were in Hamburg together."

"Did you have any reason to suspect anything like that might be happening?" She just shook her head no on his shoulder.

Nate got up off the bed and turned on the light. "Why are you naked?" Martha asked. 

"I couldn't find my stuff in the dark," Nate replied casually, and then considered maybe this was not the perfect moment for him to be nude. He went around the bed to his suitcase, retrieved some underpants and a T shirt, and pulled them on. By now Martha was sitting up with tear stains streaming down her cheeks. Her hair was a knotted mess.

Nate sat back on the bed. "I turned the light on because I want you to see my face," Nate told her quietly. She sat in silence while Nate climbed back on the bed. He cupped her face with both his hands, and said "Martha, I am going to tell you the most important thing you will ever hear in your life." He waited until she half nodded mutedly. "Martha," Nate declared boldly, his words annunciated slowly, "it ... was ... not ... your ... fault." 

Martha looked into his eyes, and she saw the fire. She saw the same fire when he told her earlier today he did not want her to leave. She saw the fire that killed the depraved degenerate who aimed to sadistically rape and mutilate her precious daughter. She saw the fire of an elite warrior who never breaks his promises. And in that instant, Martha realized she saw the sacred fire that burned for his lost soulmate, Stephanie.

Martha burst into a loud wail of uncontainable grief. She wept heavily, her shoulders heaving loud breaths as Nate wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She rested her hands on his shoulders, too weak to hug him back. Her loud sobbing slowly moderated over the next few minutes until she was mostly sniffling. He continued holding without speaking. 

Several minutes later, Martha was at last regaining her composure. She drew a deep, cleansing sigh when a loud three-strike knock came at the door. Nate jumped off the bed, went to his suitcase, and pulled out a long flashlight - the kind cops use. Then he retrieved four D sized batteries from the suitcase side pocket, loaded them into the round handle, and screwed the cap back on. He held the heavy flashlight in his right hand, and walked toward the door when a second knock sounded, now with a commanding sounding Italian voice. 

Nate put his foot behind the door with his bare toe pointing upward, so if they tried forcing the door open, he could brace it shut without breaking his foot. He held the flashlight behind the door with his right hand, out of sight of whomever was knocking on the other side. He unlocked the door with his left hand, and opened it a crack. Nate dragged his right foot forward and pressed his big to against it, not allowing the door to open any further. It was the same sandy haired desk clerk with glasses from downstairs. This time, a much larger man stood behind him, who wore a dark blue nylon coat and a dark blue cap with the English word "SECURITY" embossed across the front in white letters. 

"Much noise," the Italian clerk said. "Problema?" he asked.

Nate thought a moment. "Five secondi," he held up his five fingers, hoping he remembered the right word for seconds. He closed the door, and put the flashlight down beside his laptop case. He put on his pants, and then he pulled out his smartphone, and called up Google Translate on the web app. He typed in "just received news of a family emergency," and Nate opened the door again, this time wider. He showed the two men the smartphone display - notizie appena ricevuto di un'emergenza di famiglia - and instantly their demeanor melted from professional nuisance control to personal sympathy. Nate opened the door wider again, and they saw Martha sitting on the bed with her tear stained face and tousled hair. 

"So sorry," the Italian clerk said to Nate, and then he repeated it louder through the door to Martha. Nate closed the door. 

"What did you do?" she asked him, not hearing him say anything to them.

"I told them you just received word of a family emergency," Nate explained, holding up the Google translated Italian message. Martha posed her chin as she nodded appreciatively, wondering if she could have thought that quickly on her feet if she weren't such a blathering idiot.

"Are you telling me I cried so loud they called security?" Nate nodded with a grin. "Oh God," she buried her head in her hands. "I'm so embarrassed." 

"Don't be," Nate soothed, and sat down on the bed beside her. "You know I spoke the truth, right?" Her eyes welled up, and her throat tightened into a lump. She couldn't speak. She squinted her eyes into scrunched slits to prevent herself from crying again, but the tears flowed anyway. "You know I spoke the truth, right," Nate repeated more forcefully. This time he looked directly into her eyes. She looked back, and saw the fire again. Martha nodded and burped out a single sob. 

Nate held her tight, and she cried again, this time softly. When the tears finally stopped, Martha rose off the bed and went to the bathroom, leaving the door open. She washed her face and looked in the mirror, and was shocked by the horrid state of her hair. As she brushed out the maze of tangles, Martha realized the running water made her need to pee. When she finished her hair, Martha closed the door and tinkled on the toilet while Nate stripped off his pants, and climbed on top of the bed. 

Martha opened the bathroom door, and kneeled upright at the foot of the bed, facing the headboard. She stiffened her back and let herself tip forward on her knees without bracing herself, falling like a tree, until she bounced face first into the mattress with a soft thump. Nate got up again and turned out the light. He climbed back into bed, and lay on his back. She rolled onto her side, facing him, rested her arm over his chest, and then gently pulled his face toward him. She kissed him tenderly, and they held each other's kiss in the darkness for many seconds. 

"Goodnight my warped motherfucker," she whispered gently after she pulled away.

"Goodnight," he whispered back. She snuggled against him and let out a sigh. 

Sometime later Nate became aware of her in the night. He had fallen asleep. She rolled over, and that had awoken him. The double bed left little room for movement. He fell back asleep. As the subconscious mind goes, it seemed to Nate like only a few minutes later, but was in fact seven hours, she woke him again with her movement, but this one was different. It felt more purposeful. 

He felt her hand slip down his underpants and wrap her slender fingers around his sleeping cock, and Nate was instantly awake. She squeezed his member, and then slowly started jerking him. He opened his eyes and saw her kneeling naked beside him. She flashed him a quick smile, and then she leaned forward, and took his growing manhood into her warm mouth. She sucked him hard for a few strokes, firming Nate to full girth. 

Martha pulled away, and tugged at his underpants. Nate indulged her by lifting his hips, and she slipped them off his legs. "Slide down the bed," she whispered, and he obeyed, scooting a couple of feet toward the foot of the bed, bending his knees to keep his feet on the mattress. "Someone once told me you love a 69 blowjob in the morning," she whispered, and without another word, she straddled her legs over his head, and lowered her pelvis toward his face while she pivoted forward and drew Nate's mission ready love tool between her lips. 

Martha wasted no time. She sucked eagerly around the head while rubbing an encircled finger and thumb up and down the shaft. Nate returned the favor by flicking his tongue between her pussy lips, until he tired of teasing her and jammed his tongue up her fuck hole as far as it would go. He felt his balls rumble to life as Nate pulled out and started teasing her clitoris. She rewarded her efforts with a welcome groan and quickened her sucking tempo. 

Nate brought reinforcements in, and started rimming her rosebud with his finger while he continued focusing his tongue on her pussy. Without lube, he couldn't penetrate her ass, but he played with the puckered sphincter which seemed to bring more moans of appreciation from the far end. 

Nate's balls were building a serious overpressure with Martha's relentless oral ministrations. Nate brought his other hand in, and began fingering her pussy while flicking his tongue over her clit. He continued rimming her rosebud with his right hand. Martha redoubled her efforts with the Nate's erotic trifecta, and his balls approached critical mass. 

He felt his pre-release trigger, and Nate pressed his tongue hard against her clit and drove his finger up her fuck hole just as his love cannon fired its first salvo into her sucking mouth. She sucked harder, drawing the nectar out of his pulsing member. Nate ejaculated four more waves into her warm mouth. After his last convulsive fountain, Martha swallowed him down and dismounted his head, careful not to kick him as she spun around. She turned around with her feet toward the bottom of the bed, and lay down, resting her head on Nate's shoulder. 

Nate pulled the bed sheets over both of them, and he wrapped his arms around her, and they lay entangled in blissful silence. Nate must have dozed off, because he awoke when she moved her head on his shoulder. "I gotta say," he ventured, "I like this Italian wake-up ceremony." She smiled and kissed him. 

"Breakfast and a run?" she asked. 

"What time is it?"

"Probably about six. I'm still on home time, so I've been awake for a while."

"I saw a park nearby on the Google map," he offered.

"Yeah," she nodded, "the little round one."

"We could circle it a hundred times," he smiled. 

"Let's get some breakfast," she prodded him with her finger, and stood up. Nate watched her pad naked to the bathroom, remembering his last day with her in Rugen, wondering if he'd ever see her body again. She closed the door behind her. Nate decided he'd shower after their run. He got up and dressed. When Martha came out the bathroom, it made us of it himself. 

They walked downstairs together. The early bird breakfast crowd had nearly filled the same sitting room Nate used his laptop in the night before. More people were sitting at tables on an outdoor patio Nate hadn't noticed in the darkness. They found the last indoor free table in the corner of the small room. 

A six item postcard sized menu was printed on both sides in Italian, German, French, and English. One of the items was a help yourself buffet, where Nate spied some pastries, fruit, and cereal. A cross looking, stout Italian woman in her late fifties with dark hair and a slight limp crossed the room to their table. Nate pointed to item 3 on the menu - a cheese omelette. Martha ordered the buffet pastries, and they both ordered espresso coffees. 

Five minutes later, their coffee arrived, and a tall man in his mid-fifties and balding hair walked over to their table. Nate guessed was a manager. His English was reasonably good. "Good morning," the man smiled nervously at both Nate and Martha.

"Good morning!" Martha cheered back. 

"We are very sorry," he apologized. "Will you be checking out today." He seemed to be tell them more than asking.

"No!" Martha blurted out. "I paid for six days."

"Oh, but of course," he bowed, "I will give you money back. We are very sorry."

"I don't understand," Martha became cross. "You're kicking us out. This is wrong!" she nearly shouted. Other patrons stopped talking and turned their heads toward Martha's raised voice. The man grew very agitated, spun on his heel, and left without another word. "What a strange little man," she complained after he left, even though he was quite tall.

"I'm guessing," Nate ventured, "he was referring to Uncle Snuffy."

"Uncle Snuffy?" Martha asked, firing an accusing look across the table to him. 

"You remember Uncle Snuffy," Nate smiled, anticipating the next moment, "you know - the family emergency last night."

"Oh my God!" Martha's eyes burst open with shock as she drew her hands to her mouth. "Oh, they must think I am a cruel, heartless bitch!" She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. Now playing back the conversation in her head, she realized how accommodating the manager was being - he was offering to refund her non-refundable advance payment for the hotel room. "I feel horrible," she spoke into her hands. 




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 13



"Stay here," Nate said, "I'll be right back." He got up and crossed the small dining room, and spoke with the man quietly. The tall Italian nodded and smiled. Then Nate grabbed a plate, and put some pastries and an orange on it, and returned it to Martha, so she didn't have to get up.

"What did you tell him," Nate asked.

"I told him you have dementia, and this happens all the time," he offered casually. 

"Nate NO!" she yell whispered at him with wide, horrified eyes. He beamed a huge smile at her. "Oh!" she grinned evilly back at him, "you are so dead!" She paused. "So really, what did you tell him?"

"I told him we had received a false alarm - that Uncle Snuffy was actually fine, it was all a big mistake, and there was no emergency. I told him how upsetting the whole evening has been for you, and to please accept your apologies."

"Please don't tell me you actually said 'Uncle Snuffy'," she chided. 

"Well, no," Nate looked offended she even mentioned it, "I used his full name of course, Snuffiloppigus." 

"You're bad," she smiled. She looked into his warm eyes. "Thanks." They fell silent for a moment as she pushed her pastries around her plate. "Hey," her eyebrows furled as she remembered something, "why did you get out a flashlight last night?"

"You'd be surprised how much damage you can do with one of those old fashioned police issue flashlights," Nate explained quietly. "You can knock someone out cold in one blow," Nate added, "and they let you take it on a plane." Martha nodded thoughtfully. 

They finished breakfast, and went back to the room to change into their running clothes. The nearby circular park was larger than Nate had envisioned - perhaps a 100 meters in diameter. You could almost fit a football field inside. Walking paths crisscrossed the park, with a single perimeter path running around the edge. A hip-high iron fence circled the perimeter of park with several entrances. Nate and Martha ran fifteen revolutions side by side around the outside track, which was just inside the iron fence. Nate guessed it was a four kilometer run. Back at the hotel, they took turns in the shower - showering together was not an option in the tiny bathroom. 

Martha had already planned to see the Coliseum on Saturday. She explained she booked ahead for a private tour, and the tour operator would meet them there at 8:30, when the doors opened. They Ubered their way to the Coliseum, and as Martha suggested, they Googled about the coliseum to distract themselves from the traffic. Nate had to admit, for all his concerns about driving in Italy, everyone seemed to remain alert and aware of their surroundings - certainly more so than the half asleep drivers back in North America. 

As they stepped out of the car, the first thing that impressed them both was the size of the coliseum. It was massively tall and wide. From all the pictures he'd seen, Nate had no sense of the magnitude of the architecture. The second thing that struck him was its complete shaped and form - he thought it was a ruins. The entire exterior structure was being rebuilt. It appeared mostly finished, however there were still insanely high construction scaffolding assemblies that workers used to reconstruct the arena walls.

The crowds were already amassing when they arrived at a quarter past eight. Tour operators and vendors were hustling the tourists, but Nate had Martha ignored them, and they headed for the Arch of Constantine, where Marina, their hired tour guide, would meet them. Martha said they were to look for a woman wearing an orange hat. They people watched while Nate remained alert for pickpocketers and other risks. Martha was explaining how much work was involved in moving out of her house. When you live in one place for twenty years, she explained, it is incredible how much junk you accumulate. In the end, she threw most of it out. She put some in storage, and donated or sold the rest. A friend of hers worked with an international aid agency, and was travelling to Afghanistan to help build some water treatment system. He let Martha use his house for a few weeks until she flew over to Rome, and it would still be there if she needed it after the Rome trip. Nate didn't point out the obvious - she had a place to stay with him. He figured the nearby vendors were pressing enough of a hard sell for one person to take.

Shortly after 8:30 they spied a woman wearing a bright orange baseball cap. They presented themselves to Marina. She removed the orange cap immediately, and pocketed it in her beige cargo shorts. She could not have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. She was short and petite. Marina wore a loose fitting short sleeve pale blue shirt. Her long, thin, wavy brown hair fluttered freely in the light breeze. 

Marina spoke with an obvious Italian accent, but her English was excellent. Martha had paid for the tour in advance by credit card. An advantage in hiring a private tour was bypassing all the line-ups. Marina led them through a separate door and flashed her badge at a doorman and announced she had two visitors. The gatekeeper noted something in his ledger, and let them pass. 

Over the next two hours Marina walked Nate and Martha through the publicly accessible areas of the Coliseum. It felt even bigger once they passed inside. There were two levels the public were allowed to access. Marina explained the history of the coliseum, its architecture, its use, popularity during the Roman Empire, and its more recent restoration. 

Inside the coliseum floor was missing, long ago worn away by the eroding forces of nature. Instead they viewed the labyrinth of ruined catacombs, called the hypogeum, that originally housed the soldiers, gladiators, slaves, lions, and other creatures held in waiting for the spectators' viewing pleasure. Marina explained the underworld had access to the main coliseum floor through a hundred elevators, which the entertainers used to choreograph the arrival of lions, condemned prisoners, gladiators, and other live actors into the arena. 

According to Marina, the coliseum originally had a 87,000 person capacity, although few events drew crowds more than 50,000. They weren't seats so much as benches, and each section, row, and bench was numbered. Spectators had 'tickets' which were actually pottery shards with their seat assignment inscribed into the clay. She pointed out the reserved boxes with proper seats for the emperor, the senators, and the vestal virgins. The rest of the seating area was divided into sections by class - the nobility and knighthood class, the wealthy class, the poor class, and lowest class reserved for slaves and women. Martha raised an eyebrow at Nate, warning him not to get any ideas.

At the very end of the tour, Marina pulled aside a rope line preventing people from entering a narrow passageway, and she beckoned Nate and Martha to follow. She restored the rope line behind them to discourage common tourists from following. Marina led them up a narrow curving stairway into an open terrace above the floor they had just been on. I looked upon the same open area they had just viewed, but with a semblance of privacy. Marina explained this small area was where injured or sick spectators were brought for medical attention, such as it was in those days. She said the tour was over, and she invited Nate and Martha to remain here as long as they liked, but she had another tour to conduct. Martha passed her a generous tip, thanking Marina for an excellent tour. Nate nodded in agreement - her tour greatly exceeded his expectations. 

There were a couple of wooden crates, just the right size for sitting on, and Nate and Martha rested on them, looking upon the colossal ruins. They both agreed how much they liked the tour, and how spectacular the coliseum was. Nate was glad he had seen it, and was sure more people would put it on their bucket list if they knew how impressive it was. 

Conversation wandered, and they sat comfortably in each other's company, squirreled away from the masses. Eventually the topic of Briana came up, and Nate returned the conversation to the source of Martha's outburst last night. She knew talking about it would make her feel better, so Martha pressed herself to continue. 

"I was really shocked," Martha was explaining her reaction to Briana's behavior. "Nate, the things she did were ... I don't know what they were," she was lost for words. 

She paused, waiting for the courage to continue. "She denied it in Hamburg, but later she told me she took pictures of me - naked pictures. I don't know how she took them, but they were all of me in my bathroom, usually stepping out of the shower, or standing at the sink." Martha paused again. Nate took her hand and held it on his knee. A single tear trickled down her face. "She would show the pictures to her boyfriends, and then ... she would ... she fellated them while they stared at my naked body." Nate fell a chill run up his spine. It's one thing to pose for an internet site, but for a daughter to secretly do that to her own mother. It was perverse. 

"We had a big argument one night in my house just after I came home from Berlin," Martha continued. "She told me she did this, and I told her she was lying. She promised me in Hamburg she didn't do that. So Briana went upstairs to her old bedroom - Nate she hasn't lived there for six years. She went to her old bedroom, and came back down with a stack of full-size pictures - eight by tens - of me naked. Each one was in a plastic sleve, so they were well preserved. Briana told me she put plastic covers over the pictures so it was easier to wipe off the stains." Martha pulled her hand back from Nate. "Nate there were over fifty of them. What kind of daughter ..." she didn't finish the sentence. 

"I don't know," Nate rubbed her back gently. "I'm not going to bullshit you and tell you it's alright. I'm kind of horrified."

"Me too," Martha cried silently. She sniffled a few times, and wiped the tears off her face. "Later, she told me she fucked those boys as well. And also ... you know ... anal." Martha paused again. "I couldn't tell if she was lying, trying to make me feel worse, or if she was just revealing a little bit more each time. I still don't know." Nate guessed Briana was lying about the anal, because she didn't at all seem experienced about it when Briana had anal sex with him. 'Oh, by the way, I'm pretty sure your daughter is lying, because I popped her anal cherry' wasn't something Nate was prepared to offer, so he just listened. 

"Every time we talked about it, her story got more elaborate and more disgusting. The last time, she told me she laid down a dozen or more of pictures of me on the floor, and did two or even three boys at a time. She said she did one in the mouth, and two behind." Martha shook her head. "She made a point of telling me the boys always finished by ... you know ... on my face, or on ... or on some other part of me in the pictures. That's why she had plastic covers." Martha drew a deep, troubled sigh. "I just don't know what to believe."

"Martha," Nate announced softly, "Briana needs help."

"Do you think she's sick?" Martha asked. 

"I don't know if labels like 'sick' helps or makes a difference," Nate offered gently. "I think she put herself through some very damaging stuff, and she needs someone who can help her heal."

"Well, I can't afford a psychologist three times a week, and neither can she."

"Send me the bill, or better yet, have whoever it is direct bill me." Martha looked at him. He wasn't joking. 

"That's a very generous offer," Martha nodded, "and even if I thought it was appropriate, I don't think I can convince Briana to do anything right now. She's not talking to me."

"Try," Nate prodded her. "It's worth it."

"Why would you even foot such a bill?" Martha asked, almost complaining.

"Because I promised you I would not hurt you or Briana, and I can't be sure now what I did to both of you might not have deepened some darkness inside her." Nate paused. "It's part of my promise."

"But you didn't know," Martha was wondering why she was defending Nate as she said it.

"Neither did you, but look at you - your still trying." Nate paused, thinking about what Martha said. "Something troubles me," he warned. Martha looked at him. "You said after six years of not living there, Briana went upstairs and found old pictures. I'm wondering what else might be in there before I rent the place."

"I tore her room apart," Martha said. "I took all the furniture to the dump, in case it was, I don't know, stashed inside of something. There's nothing left."

Nate nodded. Still, he wondered if it was worth having someone crawl through the whole house, looking for hidden cameras and caches of naked photos. It was a delicate problem, one he might have to review with his lawyer.

"Are there any electronic copies of the photos," he asked. 

"Briana said no," Martha knew where Nate was going. She pursued the same line of questioning with Briana. "She might be disturbed, but she's not stupid. She knew if she emailed a picture to a boyfriend, it was out of her control. She kept the only copies of the actual photos, so they always had to come back to her."

Nate wondered if there was video. They might never know. 

"Did she do anything else?" Nate asked.

Martha dropped her head. "She said she brought boys around to the back yard when I was watching TV. They'd look through the picture window at me while she ... you know ... on her knees." Nate shook his head in disbelief. "And there's something else," Martha started shaking. Nate held her hand. "I think ..." she breathed in deeply and cried, and buried her face in her hands. At last she looked up, and stared off to where the lions dismembered the unfortunate. "I think she might have drugged me," she almost didn't finish the last two words. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, but her voice held steady. "A few times," she swallowed hard, "three that I can think of - after supper, I was so tired, I just fell asleep, and I woke up the next morning with a weird taste in my mouth and I was really thirsty." Nate knew that some sleeping pills can make you thirsty. "I didn't think anything about it at the time, but now that I look back ..."

"Did you ask her?" Nate inquired. 

She just shook her head no. "I didn't have the nerve," she whispered. They sat in silence a long time while Nate held her hand. "I'm tired," Martha complained softly. "I need some air," and she stood up.

They descended the curved staircase together. Nate returned the rope line after they entered into the general area, and they exited the coliseum together. As they walked around the grounds aimlessly, the way tourists do, Martha took his hand. "Briana said one thing true," she finally broke the silence. Nate waited. "If I ever meet you in a dark alley, I pray to fucking God you're on my side."

"Count on it," Nate guaranteed without hesitation. She looked into his eyes and saw the fire. 

- - - 

(Ten months later)

"Did you bring more water?" Dillan asked, walking beside Nate. 

"I got lots," Nate nodded. They were cresting the Katoomba Falls hiking trail, and the Three Sisters rock formation was coming into view. Nate carried a back pack with two full litres of water, and he had two more litres in various pockets in his cargo pants. It wasn't a long hike - 5 miles return trip - but it was actually hot on this winter day. Water was essential. "Let's wait here," Nate stopped on the trial, and he took out a near-empty plastic water bottle and drank. He handed it to Dillan, who finished it off. 

Dillan was as tall as Nate. His youth offered him a leaner, cleaner physique, but like Nate, he was considerably stronger than he looked. He had dark brown, nearly black hair with a gentle wave. He had his mother's green eyes, and much of her temperament. He seemed to lack the killer instinct Nate possessed - that went to Sarah.

Nate heard the girls' voices before he saw them. He watched Sarah and Martha round the corner on the trail behind them. They were too far away for Nate to make out all the words. Sarah was relaying a story with animated gestures, her hands sweeping in large circles. Martha was grinning and nodding, and suddenly they both bust out laughing as Sarah reached the punchline. Martha looked up the trail and saw Nate and Dillan waiting for them, and even in the distance Nate could see her eyes sparkle as she smiled at him - not a laughing smile anymore - a warm, affectionate, loving smile. He smiled back automatically without realizing it.

"I thought it was supposed to be winter in August," Martha complained as she and Sarah closed within speaking range of the men. 

"A bit of a heat wave," Nate shrugged. "Global warming."

"Is that the Three Sisters?" Sarah asked, pointing at three vertical rock formations rising above the ridge that made up the mountain top below. Sarah stood five foot eight with straight brown hair to her shoulders, which she often tucked behind her ears. Sarah was attractive without being girly. A firm build with solid hips, and shoulders broad enough to gracefully carry her C cupped breasts. Her slightly squared jaw and long face gave her the look of someone strong, which she was. She had Nate's brown eyes. 

"That's them," Nate nodded. 

"This wasn't hard at all," Sarah commented on the ease of the hiking effort. She pulled out her camera and set up a shot. 

Ahead, off the trail to the right, a lookout platform rested atop the edge of the cliff where tourists could view the legendary Three Sisters rock formation from a closer distance. Being mid-winter, few tourists were on the trail today, even though the temperature was 25 degrees on this unseasonably warm day. Nate handed water around, but the women had their own, so Nate pocketed is new bottle of water led the way down the other side of the crest toward the lookout platform. 

Only two other couples were on the lookout platform when Nate's gang arrived, and both couples left shortly after, leaving Nate, Martha, Sarah, and Dillon alone with their thoughts. They rested their crossed forearms on the railing, looking over the short valley to the Three Sisters. 

"How's Briana," Sarah asked Martha, quietly. They were standing next to each other. Nate was standing to the right of Martha, and Dillon to the right of him.

"She's fine," Martha offered noncommittally. 

"Is she still in Toronto?"

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "She has a job there and a new apartment." And a therapist, Nate didn't add. He was receiving the doctor's monthly bills. 

"You know," Sarah confided, "she called me up last year. It must have been September, because I just started my Masters degree. I guess she looked up my Toronto number. Anyway, she invited me out for drinks."

"She mentioned that," Martha smiled. "She really loves you guys."

"So," Sarah pressed on, "we went out drinking just this one night. Anyway, she must have had a lot more to drink than she thought or something, because ... well ... she told me Dad killed some dude."

Martha turned her head away from Sarah to Nate, who was standing next to her on the other side. They exchanged a long, hard look. Sarah, to Martha's left, could no longer see Martha's face, but now looking at Nate, Sarah saw an expression in her father she had never known. 

"Dad?" Sarah pressed, concerned by her father's mysterious expression. Martha and Nate had discussed this again and again. They both realized that, eventually Briana might tell some or all of what happened in Hamburg. They agreed to deal with in only if it came up. 

"Honey," Nate started, and then he stopped. Nate stepped backward four paces from the railing, so he could speak to Sarah and Dillon together. All three turned around to face him. Sarah and Dillon flanked Martha on either side. "About a year ago I met Briana in Germany. She was just passing through - neither of us knew the other was in Germany."




Mothers and Daughters Pt. 13



"And ..." Sarah insisted. 

"I took her out to a restaurant. We were just leaving when three armed men attacked us."

"They were going to rape Brianna and kill both Briana and your dad," Martha interjected. 

"You killed one of them?" Sarah verified. 

"There is an ongoing investigation in Germany, so you can understand why I am not able to share any details." 

"But you did it, right?" Sarah persisted. 

"It was self defense, Sarah."

"I flew over as soon as it happened," Martha filled in the half truths they rehearsed. 

"Wait," Dillon interrupted. "You said there were three of them, and they were armed?" Nate nodded. "With guns?"

"Your father can't go into details, and he's already told you why," Martha jumped in. "Let's just say there is one less murdering rapist in the world today."

"Fucking A!" Dillan cheered with a fist pump.

"Dillan," Nate scolded, "you can't tell anyone. Ever. I mean never, ever. There is no statute of limitations on murder in Germany. You both have to take this secret to your graves. It was in self defense, but only Briana and I know that. The case is still open in Germany. If they learn I was connected with that death, even remotely, they could extradite me to Germany and I could stand trial for murder."

"But you didn't do anything wrong," protested Sarah.

"Sarah," Nate lectured her, "you're old enough to know how the world works. Being innocent is not always enough. So you tell no one. Never, ever, ever. Do you both promise?"

"I promise," Dillon nodded. 

"Me too," Sarah agreed. "But what about Briana? She told me, didn't she?"

"Briana was a bit of a wild card," Martha explained, looking straight ahead so she spoke to both Sarah and Dillan, who flanked her on both sides. "But she's much clearer about things now, and she understands now why it is important, to her and to Nate, not to tell anyone else." 

"So," Sarah was connecting the dots as she looked at Nate, "you saved Briana's life, and then Martha flies over to Germany, and you two hit it off?" Nate and Martha both nodded. "And you and Briana didn't even know each other were in Germany until you met?" Nate nodded again.

"Small world," Dillon observed. 

Sarah now turned to Martha. "So you just flew over to Germany, gazed into my dad's eyes, and the rest was history?" she challenged incredulously.

"Well," Martha defended herself, "It wasn't quite that simple. It wasn't until later when your father and I went to Rome that we ..."

"Rome!?" Sarah and Dillon interrupted together with surprise.

"You didn't tell them about Rome?" Martha turned to Nate.

"Slipped my mind, I guess."

Now Martha squared off against Nate. "It slipped your mind!" she challenged loudly. "When we decided I would go back to Canada, sort out Briana, and I would come back to Germany and we would live together. That slipped your mind!?"

"Not that part," Nate defended himself carefully. "Only that it happened in Rome," Martha looked unconvinced, "and only when I was telling the kids."

"It's true," Sarah came to her father's defense, gently touching Martha on the shoulder. "He kind of told me the way you guys just said, but he left out the Rome part." 

"Can we please get back to the point," Dillan complained. 

"What is the point?" Nate asked. 

"I think you made it already," Sarah tried to broker a truce.

"Warped motherfucker," Martha whispered to herself, too loud.

"Excuse me!" snapped Sarah. She turned to face Martha, with her flash temper showing. 

"Oh!" Martha apologized, and turned toward Sarah. "I didn't mean you. I have this ... this term of endearment for your father."

"You call my dad a warped motherfucker, and that's supposed to sound nice?" Dillan cross examined Martha from behind.

"Guys," Nate barked out, raising both his palms up to all three. "We're spiraling out of control, here. So everyone listen up." He waited until all three faced him again and he had their full attention. "I'm going to say this once, so listen carefully. I met Briana in Hamburg by sheer luck. Martha flew to Hamburg after Briana was attacked. Then she went back to Ottawa to be with Briana. Then Martha and I went to Rome together, and while we were there, we decided to live in Hamburg together. Martha went back to Ottawa, sold her house, and sorted things out with Briana. The Australians liked the work I was doing, and my contract with the Germans was coming to an end anyway, so now I work here. Martha moved with me to Canberra. And now you guys are here visiting." Nate blew out a big sigh. 

The Australia contract could not have been better suited. Not only did it come just as his German contract was winding down, but the Australian's limited budget and international considerations mandated a leaner role. Consequently, Nate was contracted for only three days a week. Occasionally his work surged to full time, for which he was paid extra. It was a perfect transition toward his retirement. The expenses package was nowhere near as sweet as the Hamburg deal, but Nate had a lot more time to spend with Martha in a country they both wanted to explore together. It was a no-brainer.

"Have I left anything out?" Nate asked Martha, knowing she understood he was talking about his editorialized version.

"Well, the part about ... you know ... the part we can't talk about," Sarah added coyly.

Martha stepped forward, closing the distance to Nate. She put her hand behind his head, and pulled him into a tender kiss on the lips. "You left out you're one warped motherfucker," Martha smiled, and kissed him again. 

"Sarah nodded to herself. After a moment's reflection, she added, "you guys have a pretty weird relationship."

Nate and Martha looked at each other, and simultaneously burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. 

Nate and Martha stopped laughing, and turned to face Sarah and Dillon, who were staring at them with bewildered concern. Sarah complained, "what part of that was funny?" 

"All of it," Nate smiled as Martha giggled. "All of it."

They decided to head back. They took one last look at the Three Sisters from the lookout platform, and then they retraced their steps down the walking trail. Nate and Martha held hands, and Sarah and Dillon followed a few steps behind. 

As they rounded the first corner on the trail, Sarah asked form behind, "So when are you guys getting married?" Martha looked at Nate, and Nate looked back at Martha, and Sarah recognized in Nate that same, unfamiliar expression she witnessed for the first time on the lookout platform. 

"Dad?" she warned angrily. Martha and Nate stopped together, turned around, held hands and faced the children. 

"Well," Nate paused, "we're not going to get married, because we're kind of already ..."

"DAD!" screamed Sarah three octaves higher than Nate knew was humanly possible. She actually stomped her foot. "You are not telling me you got married without telling anyone!" Her face turned red with anger. Sarah's eyes were wild with fury. Her nostrils flared open and hissed with each heavy breath.

"Honey," Nate started, "it was the only way I could bring Martha into this country to live with me. We waited for you two to arrive before announcing a proper ..."

"So what," Sarah yelled, interrupting him, "it was just a convenience - some piece of paper - a travel document. That's all marriage means to you? Is that how it was with you and Mom? Just a technicality? Is that why you let Mom fuck some guy with her wedding band still on?"

"Sarah, it isn't like that," Martha soothed, stepping toward Sarah, "we really ..."

"You shut the fuck up!" Sarah snarled at Martha. She stabbed her index finger toward Martha like a dagger, and took a menacing step toward her freshly minted stepmother. Martha froze dead in her tracks, for all she saw was a fire in Sarah's eyes Martha had learned to love, but this time Martha's heart turned cold with fear.

Nate's first instinct was to lambast Sarah with all cannons ablaze, but his better judgement prevailed. Sarah had been devastated by his divorce to Theresa. He hadn't considered this reaction, but in retrospect, it was all too obvious. There was no way Nate could back Sarah down off her fiery rage. She was going to have to find her own way.

Sarah bolted forward, rushed past Nate and Martha, and she ran down the hiking trail alone. Nate nodded to Dillon, and without needing a word of confirmation, he broke into a full sprint. With his stronger and longer legs, Dillan easily caught up with his sister and stayed with her.

"She'll be okay," Nate said softly to Martha, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. "It will take a while, but she'll come around."

"Daughters," sighed Martha shakily, still reeling from Sarah's sudden ferocity. She took his hand again, and they walked briskly down the path.

'Mothers and daughters', Nate wanted to say, but he held that thought to himself, and he squeezed his wife's hand instead. 

- - - The End - - -