Storiesonline.net ------- Chad Johnson: Year One by Hawklu Copyright© 2004 by Hawklu ------- Description: Chad Johnson, a former assassin for the Clandestine Youth Agency, has chosen to leave the only home he has known for his entire life. However, adapting to and living a normal life is not as easy as it would seem as he discovers real friendships and, more importantly, love. Note: Appendices have mild spoilers, so please read up to their associated chapters before accessing them. Codes: mf mF ff slow harem humor rom 1st teen cons inc les bi het D/S safe oral ------- ------- Copyright © 2004 - 2005 Hawklu. All rights reserved. Edited by LeRoy, VegasHarv, and KB ------- Appendix The number refers to which chapter that is being appendices. It is strongly advised to read that chapter before viewing the appendix. Consider yourself warned. Appendix 14   --   Appendix 30 ------- Prologue "Hi! My name is..." - S. Shady My name is Chad and at age fifteen, I was a washout. "No longer able to fulfill possible mission objectives" was the phrase that the Agency used. Since my specialty was assassination and I had become a pacifist, well one can see the conflict. I was a part of an ultra top-secret Agency that started as a department of the Central Intelligence Agency. They created it in the mid 80s because of intelligence that the Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti, KGB, was running a program of raising children to act as agents. In order to counteract this threat, the CIA "adopted" twelve one-year-olds; four Asians, Blacks, and Caucasians, to be raised to be secret agents. The children divided into two categories, ABCs and 123s. The ABCs were made up of a boy and girl of each race and rose to operate as a team. The remaining children trained to operate solo, in a pair, and as a trio. Every trio was composed of a member of each ethnic group. The 123s were also used to augment an ABC team. Every four years, another six one-year-olds were acquired to form 123s and every five years for the ABCs. With the fall of the Soviet Union, it was discovered that there was not a program there after all, but it was chicken feed, false information fed to the CIA so the KGB could trace double agents. The Federal Bureau of Investigations, the ones responsible for all U.S. counterintelligence within the Western Hemisphere, became aware of the scheme that the KGB used. The FBI decided to do some probing, and in the late 90s, they found out the CIA program. The FBI did not so much 'blackmail' the CIA, as they insisted that they be able to utilize the agents. Since the CIA is unable to operate in the US, the program spun out into its own organization, the Clandestine Youth Agency, with funding split from both the FBI and CIA under their "special projects" fund. The training changed to cover domestic situations, as well. I was the solo of the second batch of children for the 123s. My training was more geared to operate alone without support. While I trained like the rest, I did learn a specialization: assassination. That is the extent of what I know about the history of the CYA. Since we agents only had confidential clearance, the lowest level, we were not privy to the detailed history of the Agency. The Compound, a set of buildings where we were housed, taught, and trained, was believed to be near The Farm, the training school for the CIA recruits in Virginia. ------- Chapter 1 "Today is the first day of the rest of your life." -C. Dederich It was surprising that, instead of removing me from operations and transferring me to intelligence or teaching, they simply cut me loose. They allowed me to leave the Compound that I had lived in for fourteen years for the first time -- excluding training missions -- and to begin my new life. The process of leaving took quite a long time. After going through countless debriefings, they blindfolded me, drove me off the Compound, and took me to an airfield. There, I was loaded into a small jet and flown to three different airports before arriving at my final destination. After disembarking from the plane, I was loaded into car, and in less than a half an hour, the car pulled into a garage. Guided from the car, they took me into the house that attached to the garage and helped me to a seat. I waited fifteen minutes, as I had been instructed to, before I removed my blindfold. I sat in a kitchen -- actually, starting that day, my kitchen. I chuckled to myself, because the layout was exactly like House Nine at the Compound. A section of the Compound had a neighborhood set up for training exercises, and this kitchen matched the one there almost perfectly. I guessed that my new home was one of the government's safe houses. I did not even have to look any further to know the exact layout of the house. I began to wonder if the government constructed House Nine to match their safe houses, or if they just reused architectural floor plans to save money. I just hope that not all of their safe houses were exactly the same; part of the problem with the government was that they would sometimes sacrifice safety over money. Two things stood out in my kitchen that separated it from House Nine: One, the walls did not appear to have any traces of bullet damage; something that House Nine had plenty of. The second thing was the dossier that contained my new life laying on the table. The clock on the wall read 4:25. I did some quick calculations and guessed that I must have been in the Pacific Standard Time Zone. Even with all the precautions that the Agency took to make sure that I could not backtrack to them -- placing me in an isolation cell fifty-two hours before the debriefings, the blindfold, traveling at night -- I still had a good idea of where the Compound was located. After all, they trained me my entire life for circumstances like the one I was currently in. Though, I figured that a quicker way to discover where I was would be to open the dossier. The dossier contained my legend, a false biography for deep-cover work: birth certificate, set of keys, identification card, passport, couple of credit cards, ATM card, checkbook, wallet containing five hundred dollars, emancipation papers, and other miscellaneous papers that I would need for my new life. My last name was now 'Johnson' and my birthday was February 13th. Since I was unaware of when my real birthday was, that day should work as well as any other day. I was able to switch my identification card to a driver's license in about five months when I turned sixteen. The deed for the house stated that I lived on 1342 Evergreen Drive in Central City, California. I had to think for a moment to recall any information I had on Central City. It was located along the central coast of California, its population was around thirty thousand, and it was mostly a service city -- it catered to tourists that came there for the beach. I put the identification card, credit cards, and ATM card into the wallet and gathered up the contents of the dossier. As I left the kitchen, I decided that I should at least turn on the lights as I made my way back to the master bedroom. It was a good thing that I did, since the living room and hallway contained empty moving boxes. At least the government went through the charade that I had just moved in. I wondered how the neighbors would take to a lone teenager living next to them? Inside the master bedroom, I found a few surprises. On the bed sat a brand new Gateway M675XL laptop computer. Also, the computer desk in the corner of the room actually had a working computer hooked up to it, along with a cable modem, wireless router, and docking station for the laptop. I tossed the dossier package on the desk along with the wallet and house keys. A grin spread across my face when I turned on the computer monitor and saw that BitComet was running and already downloading and seeding several anime that I had yet to acquire. Now I knew where Bob had gone before I entered the isolation cell. Bob was a fellow agent, whose specialty was computers. He knew that I enjoyed Japanese anime, and I would have bet the $500 that was in my wallet that one of the hard drives in the computer had my favorite series. I turned off the monitor and stripped out of my clothes, then went to one of the two walk-in closets in the master bathroom to discover that most of the wardrobe that I had at left at the Compound was there, along with some additional clothing. I guess the rest was in the dresser in the bedroom. At least the government was smart enough to figure out that somebody snooping around would be suspicious of anyone who only owned new clothes. I went back into the master bedroom and noticed there was a picture on the bedside table with my 'parents' and me that was taken three years ago. The Clandestine Youth Agency tried to make sure everything was covered for its agents, including cover stories that would stand up to the most intense background checks. That included photos of us at different ages and stages in life. The adults that were with me in the picture were instructors from the Compound. Their features were altered in such a way that they could pass for my parents. The fact that I was an orphan and raised my entire life by a government Agency would be much harder to believe when there was 'proof' like pictures. I turned off the lights and crawled into the king-sized bed, naked. Even before I had fully lain down, I felt it. The good mood that I started to feel left me rapidly as I reached between the mattresses to withdraw a Glock 17. I knew from the weight that it was fully loaded. I checked, and sure enough, there was a blank in the chamber as well as a blank in the clip, followed by standard 9 mm ammo. Even though it was unmarked, I knew it was my personal one, its balance and sighting custom-tailored for me. I had left it back at the Compound, swearing that I would never see it again. The Agency knew I was now a pacifist and had no need for anything whose sole purpose was to take life. Maybe they thought I was going through a phase and that is why they were willing to let me walk away from the Agency. I quickly stripped down the weapon in the dark and placed the parts on the bedside table next to the family photo. I then drifted off to sleep. ------- I awoke six hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed. My stomach growled, reminding me that I had not eaten anything since I left the Compound. I made my way over to the window to open the blackout curtains. They were quite effective, because the room was pitch black. After I opened them, I quickly slipped into a sweat suit and headed to the kitchen, pausing along the way to open the remaining blackout curtains. The kitchen cabinets and refrigerator were fully stocked with both standard staples and perishables, I discovered. I debated if I should eat a protein bar or make myself a decent breakfast. Since it was my first day of freedom, I decided that I might as well go all out. I made myself a Denver omelet, hash browns, toast, and a large glass of orange juice. I was glad that there was a juicer, since I would not want to have done it by hand. Forcing myself to eat slowly, I savored the taste instead following my usual practice of devouring meals quickly. After finishing breakfast, I went ahead and cleaned up after myself. After drying all of the dishes and oiling the cast-iron skillet I had used, I headed back to the master bedroom. I grabbed the laptop that was still lying on the bed and booted it up. It appeared that the laptop had been already configured with the wireless server. After disabling the laptop's wireless connection, I opened up the encrypted file that would contain my legend and information I would need to know for my new life. Glancing at the right bottom corner of the screen to note the time, it took me about ten seconds to figure out the key I would need to open the file. After typing out the 47-character alphanumeric key, I waited until the time changed to 11:54 before hitting enter. I let out a sigh of relief as the file opened up. If I had entered the wrong key, then the file would have deleted itself and unleashed a virus in the computer, as well as sent off a warning message the next time the computer had accessed the Internet. I had two minutes to read the entire contents of the file before it would delete itself. Since I had been trained to speed read and had a near-photographic memory, I read it twice just to make sure I had everything committed. I watched the file delete itself while I went over some of the details I had just read in my head. My parents, Dwayne and Linda Johnson, were jetsetters. Linda was a computer programmer who had been able to cash in on the computer boom of the 1990s. She had cashed out before the bubble burst, and she and her husband decided to travel the world. They decided to travel with their daughter, Cindy, and let me attend high school, something that I had not done because up to now I had been home-schooled. I had been emancipated to make life easier for me. There were a savings and a checking account set up at a local credit union, and it already possessed my signature card. A thousand dollars would be automatically deposited monthly into my savings account. The PIN numbers for the ATM card and credit cards were 1701. I was sure Alan must have had a hand in coming up with my background. Alan was a fellow agent whose passion was everything Star Trek. I felt slightly sad that I might never see any of the agents that I had trained with again. We had been taught that personal attachment was dangerous because it could affect a mission when one of your teammates was captured or killed. But that did not stop kinships from developing. I enabled the wireless connection and launched the Firefox web browser. Bob even had my startup page set up to mirKx, a site that indexes Anime and Manga BitTorrents. I saw there were a few titles that I did not have, so I went ahead and selected them. I decided I might as well save them to the laptop, so that I could access them when I was on the go. I hooked up the laptop to the docking station on the computer desk, and I went to the living room. When I saw that there was a 50" high-definition plasma TV screen mounted on the wall above the pellet stove, I decided that I should fully explore the house to see what other surprises there might be. The entertainment rack contained a sound system, DISH satellite receiver, a DVD recorder, and a Gateway Media Center PC. I grabbed the TV remote and turned on the plasma. I had to grab a different remote to turn on the satellite receiver, and after a while, I found out besides the regular channels, it also had a wide range of international channels, including some in a few languages that I had not mastered yet. I tuned into JapanTV and looked around the rest of the room. It appeared that my DVD collection had followed me here, as well, because they were in a bookcase. I decided that I should take a full tour, so I went to the front door. I started at the foyer and looked right through the archway: it lead to the dining room. The thing that stood out in that room was the large table surrounded by twelve chairs. I checked out the study to the left of the foyer, and just about everything that I thought I had abandoned at the Compound had migrated into there. From there, instead of going back to the living room, I cut through the study into the hallway that went to the master bedroom. There was a bathroom and two bedrooms flanking the hallway. I paused at one of the bedrooms to find it contained furniture and décor that would match a female teenager. I guessed that would be my sister's room, and wondered if a real one would be joining me. I was the first agent to leave the Agency, so maybe they were just being prepared in case another decided to leave as well I walked back to the living room and went upstairs. The stairs opened up into an empty game room. Two bedrooms that shared a bathroom connected to the game room; the hallway on the other side lead back to another bedroom that had its own bathroom, as well as a second bedroom on one side of it, a more public bathroom on the other, and what was a pull-down ladder up to the attic. Since everything so far matched House Nine, I assumed the attic here also opened onto a couple of small, recessed balconies at either end and had ladders attached to the walls for access to the widows walk (a flat walkway with some iron filigree railing lining it) on the ridgeline. All of the bedrooms (save for my sisters' and the master bedroom) were pretty sparse: they contained only a bed, dresser, and desk. I headed downstairs to check out the rest of the house. The kitchen was rather large, third only to the living room and the master bedroom. There was a kitchen table in the breakfast nook. The door in the kitchen lead to the garage, and there was an archway that lead to the dining room. In back of the kitchen, off the living room, were a laundry room and a half-bath. Before looking out back, I recrossed the living room and glanced into the utility room I had passed as I went to begin my tour. It didn't have much in it, though, mostly just the A/C and some water tanks I recognized as being connected to hydrogen cells. House Nine did not have a swimming pool, but this house did -- along with a very spacious hot tub. I thought about taking a swim, but decided that I had better finish exploring the house. It was almost disappointing to discover that the garage did not have a car, but since my documents said I was fifteen, I should not have expected one. There was a bicycle in there that had a basket attached to the handlebars. At least I had somewhere to put groceries when I went shopping. At the back of the garage was a large storage area that had a few items in it, mostly for lawn care and such. I headed back to the master bedroom, stopping off at the kitchen first to grab a Zima and a protein bar. As I started through the living room on my way to the master bedroom, I thought I had better check the basement. Access to the basement was through the closet underneath the staircase. I pressed on some paneling on the left side of the closet, and the hidden door popped open. I flicked on the light switch and descended the stairs to the subterranean room. The first thing I noticed was that the gun safe that should have been here was gone. Actually, the basement level was void of everything save for a weight bench in the corner of the back room, an old bed in a nook beside the foot of the stairs, and a couple simple water fixtures. In what probably was supposed to be a pantry, there was a full-length mirror on one of the walls with a hidden alarm control panel to the left of it. I went over to it and entered the code to access the panic room that was beyond the mirror. The six-inch thick steel door that the mirror concealed slid open to reveal the ten-foot by ten-foot panic room. Along the back wall of the panic room was a rack of monitors, nine of them. I did not need to turn them on to know what they would show. I closed up the panic room and headed back upstairs to the master bedroom. I went over to the bedside table and gathered up the parts of the Glock 17. I carried them over to the computer desk and set them there. I sat down in the chair and stared at the disassembled firearm for a long time, trying to figure out what to do with it. Two choices: I could either destroy it or hold on to it. I decided to hold on to it and spread out the parts in different drawers in the computer desk. That led to a pleasant discovery, as I found a carton of Camel Wides in one of the drawers, along with my lighter, cigarette case, and ashtray. Bless Bob; he knew how to take care of me! I also spread out the contents of the dossier across the desk. I lit up a Camel and opened up a Zima I had grabbed as I went through the kitchen, earlier. After a long drag (it had been over four days since my last cigarette!) I just about inhaled the Zima. I then got up and went into the master bathroom. Even the toothbrush that I had at the Compound was in a cup next to the sink. I drained my bladder and washed my hands. I looked into the mirror and looked at my natural face. Whenever deployed into the field, we altered our appearances. My blonde hair and blue eyes could be changed with hair dye and contacts. With the right combination of makeup, Botox, and collagen injections, I could pass myself off as countless nationalities. My five-foot, ten-inch frame held 190 pounds of muscle and very little fat. An agent always tried to blend in and appear as plain and normal as possible. Taking one final drag on the cigarette, I tossed it into the toilet. I then stripped and took a quick shower. After I made sure I had washed all of the soap and shampoo off my body, I drew a hot bath. I had a nice long soak, thinking about what I needed to accomplish for the remainder of the day. I needed to figure out where 1342 Evergreen was compared to Central City High School. It would be also helpful to figure out if there was a market nearby, as well as the general layout of the town. Google Maps should be useful for most of that. I also should greet my neighbors. I was almost certain that one of them would be monitoring me for the Agency. I knew the entire house was bugged and cameras were set up in every room and covering the outside, as well. Besides being recorded on the bedroom computer's hard drive and sent down to the panic room in the basement, I was sure that all of the feeds were sent to the CYA. I pulled the plug and allowed the water to drain from around me before I got up and headed back into the bedroom. I gathered up my clothes from last night, as well as my sweat suit, and tossed them into the laundry hamper. I shut down BitComet and unplugged the cable modem. After making sure that the computer was no longer connected to the Internet, I accessed the program that records the feeds. Sure enough, there was a thirty-second clip of Bob sitting at the computer from two days ago. He turned to wave at the camera before it ended. None of the other feeds started to record until about twenty-five hours ago. They were all low quality, and they would record a frame every five seconds. At 4:00 this morning, the cameras for the front of the house and kitchen went black, only to resume at 4:15. The feed from the kitchen switched to high quality, thirty frames a second, to record me sitting in the chair with the blindfold on. I fast-forwarded through everything until it reached the live image of me sitting naked in front of the computer. I went ahead and deleted everything, including the clip of Bob. I also double-checked the firewall and the security logs. Everything seemed to be in order, so I decided that I would not go through the trouble of disconnecting from the internet in the future. I went ahead and plugged the cable modem back in and re-launched BitComet. I pulled up a map of Central City from Google Maps and studied it for about five minutes, trying to make sure I had the layout committed to memory. It would have to do for now until I could get some actual maps of the town. Since I was less than two miles from the high school, I would not have to worry about riding a school bus. Good; I was not fond of being anywhere that did not have an easy egress. Deciding that I would use the bike to get to school, I thought I would do a dry run today to see what traffic was like; it was also a chance to be seen by my neighbors. I went to the dresser and found a tee shirt and a pair of bike shorts. I put them on, along with a pair of socks and sneakers. I also strapped on a fanny pack that I found in the desk and slipped my wallet and keys in it. I made sure that the alarm to the house was armed before I stepped into the garage. I had to adjust the height of the bicycle seat slightly and grabbed the automatic garage opener. Pausing for a second, I realized that it would be the first time I would be outside. Before, when I explored the house, I had only looked out into the backyard and had not actually set foot outside. This would be my first exposure to the real world, outside of training exercises and missions. The garage door opened, and I rode out into the driveway. The rest of the neighborhood looked nothing like the mock one from the Compound. I made a right at the end of the driveway and headed off to the school. It took me less than ten minutes to reach the school grounds. Biking around it, I found a bike rack and the administration building. I had an appointment at 7:15 tomorrow morning to enroll and take some tests to determine what classes I was to be placed in. The actual school term began on Tuesday. I then decided to ride around, just exploring the surrounding neighborhood. Stopping off at a gas station, I was able to buy a map of the town, as well as a county map. After an hour of riding around, I headed back home. Convenience won out this time around, so I grabbed a frozen dinner from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave. I then decided to take a quick shower. I thought that I would save anyone monitoring the feeds some embarrassment by wearing a robe after I was done with my shower. Then again, it would most likely be a fellow agent who had to watch the feeds, so nudity should not be a source of embarrassment. I headed back to the kitchen, grabbed the dinner, a fork, and a Zima, and went into the living room. I decided to watch a couple of episodes of the anime that Bob had downloaded for me. The media PC must have been connected via Ethernet, since I was able to grab them from the bedroom computer almost instantly. After I was done watching, I cleaned up my mess and shut down everything. As I started back to the master bedroom, the phone rang. I was rather surprised and picked it up after the second ring. "Moshi moshi," I said, figuring that it was highly likely it was a telemarketer and that by answering in Japanese it might just scare them off. I turned out to be wrong. There was only a slight hesitation before the voice on the other end of the line said, "Hello, may I speak to Chad Johnson?" "May I ask who is calling?" "Of course; my name is Roger, and I am calling on behalf of the local Green Party." "I'm Chad." "Good evening, Chad. As you should be well aware off, the climate of today's politics is volatile. This November, it is crucial that our voice be heard, and we are asking for your support. To get our message--" "I'm sorry," I said, cutting off Roger before he could launch into his spiel, "I am afraid that I do not take telephone solicitations. If you want, you can mail your information to me and I will look over it." "I understand and respect your feelings on this matter," Roger replied rapidly, reasonably reading his rehearsed rhetoric from a script. "Since mailing would be an additional financial burden, as well as the unnecessary use of natural resources, I can give you our web address as well as the address for the National Party if you have internet access." "Sure," I told him. After he told me the addresses, I promised him that I would check out the sites. I even ended my conversation with him with, "Good luck." While I might not agree with the Green Party's platform fully, I did share a few of their beliefs. I made sure to follow-up on my promise to Roger and did visit the websites he had given me. It only took me ten minutes to donate fifty dollars to both the local and national chapters, and after setting my alarm clock for 6:00 AM, I went to sleep. ------- Chapter 2 "The advantage of love at first sight is that it delays a second sight." -Natty B. I woke up at 4:30, my internal clock still not accustomed to being on the West Coast. I crawled out of bed and made my way over to the computer. I turned on the monitor to discover that Morning Sedition was already streaming and being saved to an MP3 file. I went ahead and turned on the speakers so I could listen to it while I went through my morning ablutions in the bathroom. I discovered that the intercom system set up throughout the house was also connected to my bedroom computer, so I was able to listen to the Air America program in the kitchen while I made myself a modest breakfast. After eating and cleaning up, I turned off the intercom and went into the living room to watch some television. I watched a NHK news program until it was time for me to get ready for my appointment at school. I threw any documents that I might need into a backpack and decided that jeans and a polo shirt would work for today. I went ahead and decided to wear a pair of Birkenstocks since it would fit into my role of a Californian. I left the house at 6:50, giving myself plenty of time to get to school. Did I want to excel or blend in at school? I had been told that I could keep this identity or choose a new one when I reached twenty-one. I had around six hundred thousand dollars in off-shore accounts and about one hundred thousand divided between my checking and saving accounts. The thousand a month that I got from the government was one-fifth my usual income, but that should cover food and utilities. In addition, in a couple of months, that amount might increase. The drawback with my current cover was that it would be difficult to get financial aid; so if I wanted to attend college, I would have to earn a couple of scholarships, unless I wanted to pay for it out of my own pocket. The best course of action would be to excel academically but try to avoid drawing too much attention. I planned to keep this identity unless something drastic occurred. I came to these conclusions as I pulled up to the bike rack. It took about fifteen minutes to complete all of the forms that they required, then I was ushered into a small conference room where there were already two other teens sitting at a table. We waited about five more minutes before a fourth teen arrived and a teacher made sure we were widely dispersed around the table. We were then given a booklet and an answer sheet, and we were told that we had an hour for this portion of the assessment. Even forcing myself to read slowly and to take my time, I was done in half an hour. I double-checked my answers and waited patiently for the hour to be over. The next two booklets were like the first, except the math portion had space to work out the answers. I went ahead and even wrote out the process for the ones that I could figure in my head. I even missed a few on purpose to make sure that I did not raise too much suspicion. The fourth booklet was on foreign languages, and since they were German, Spanish, and French, I breezed through it as well. We were allowed an hour lunch break, and then when we returned, we would meet individually with a guidance counselor. Miss Simms was the Honors counselor, and it was no surprise that I was assigned to her. She guided me into her office and asked me to take a seat. She was about five-foot-four and had long, straight, red hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. I estimated her to be in her early thirties, and I noticed that the third finger on her left hand had a tan line from a wedding ring that was slowly fading. It was when I figured that she was around just over fifty kilograms that I realized that I was automatically looking at her as if I was going to write up a report of our encounter. I made a conscious note to stop looking at people this way, but doubted if I could. Miss Simms said, "Chad, you should be pleased to know that you did extremely well on your assessment. You could enter as a junior or even a senior if you so wanted." I smiled and replied, "I would really like it if I could enter as a sophomore. I have not been in an environment like this and would like to at least be with kids my own age." Miss Simms agreed and suggested that I would be enrolled in Honors or Advanced Placement Math, English, Science and World History. I had to take P.E. and choose an elective. I had looked through the registration guide before, but I was still undecided. "I noticed that according to your file that you play the flute. Perhaps you might like to enroll in band?" she asked. I kept my expression neutral, but inside I was laughing. Alan knew that woodwinds were a weak point, and yet he included it in my background. "Sure, why not. Also, instead of P.E., could I take Dance instead?" "Well, Dance does count for P.E., but only for one semester. Also, are you interested in trying out for any sports?" Actually, that had not even crossed my mind. I know that my chances for scholarships would improve if I had extracurricular activities like band and sports. "Miss Simms, I had not really given it much thought," I replied. "Well, I'll go ahead and give you the forms you need to have filled out and signed. This evening, there will be physicals given here in the P.E. locker rooms, or you can always see a private physician, but you must have a physical completed before you can attend any practice sessions." As I was leaving her office, she reminded me that, besides offering career guidance, she was always available if I had any personal problems. She was aware that I was living alone and that I might need somebody to talk to. I told her that if I had any problems, I would let her know. When I got back to the house, I had to stop in the driveway to fish out the remote for the garage opener from my backpack. I detected movement from the house to my left. I glanced over and saw the curtains in one of the windows fall back into place. I went into the garage, and since it was a nice day, left the garage door open. I debated if I should mount the garage opener on the handlebars or not; it would make life a little easier, but then again, somebody could gain access to my garage if they pried off the remote from my bike. As I started to look through a workbench for the parts I would need, I was startled by a voice coming from behind me. "Hi. Do you live here?" I turned around to see a very pretty young girl. She was five and a half feet tall, early teens, with straight, shoulder-length brunette hair. She had a very nice figure -- I guessed her breasts were 32B, which fit her perfectly -- and had a very healthy tan. "Yes, I do. My name's Chad Johnson, and I just moved in," smiling at her as I replied. "Nice to meet ya. I'm Traci Caspar. I live next door to you." She must have been the one that I saw in the window earlier. I decided to give up on my current project and asked her if she would like to come inside. She looked slightly nervous but said, "Sure. Let me just go and tell my sister." "Okay. I'll leave the front door unlocked. Just come on in." She left, and I closed the garage door and entered the house. I quickly disarmed the alarm, went over to the front door, and unlocked it. I then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a Zima and a couple cans of soda. When I heard her come in, I called out if she wanted some potato chips and if she wanted regular or diet soda. Traci replied, "Chips sound good. I'll have a diet if you have it." I emptied a bag of chips into a large bowl and brought it, along with the diet soda and Zima, to the living room. I set them on the coffee table in the living room, then asked, "Would you like a tour of the place?" "Sure," she replied, so I showed her around the house. She wondered why the four upstairs bedrooms were barren except for beds, dressers, and desks. I explained to her that the previous owners had left them. When I mentioned that, she said, "You're the fifth family to move in here in the last five years, but I have never seen the inside before." "Well, I am the only one who will be living here, for now. My parents and sister are traveling right now. I think they are currently in Ireland. My sister might join me later on, so a bedroom is set up downstairs for her." We went downstairs, and I showed her the rest of the rooms, excluding the basement. She asked about my anime collection, and I told her that I was an "otaku". "What's that?" she asked. "It's a Japanese word. An "otaku" is an obsessive fan of any one particular theme, topic, or hobby. With me, it is anime, Japanese animation, and manga, Japanese comics." "Oh, like Sailor Moon or Cowboy Bebop," she smiled when she said that. "Yes. Have you watched Sailor Moon before?" I asked her. "Yeah, but it has been a few years. It was on the Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon. I liked it, it was pretty cool." A grin spread across my face as I said, "Then I have something that you might enjoy. Let's go back to the living room." It took me a few minutes to turn on everything and find the file that I was looking for. Luckily, I had a fansub (an episode that a group of fans had subtitled) besides the raw (an episode that was not modified) of the file I was looking for. I sat down next to her on the couch, started the fansub, and opened the Zima. After a couple of minutes, she started to laugh aloud. "Oh my God! Is this what I think it is?" "Yup. It is a live-action version of Sailor Moon," I grinned at her as I said it. I had already watched it, and since I knew Japanese, I did not have to look at the subtitles to follow the story. I was able to spend most of my time watching her reactions. She had a wonderful laugh, and when Luna, a talking cat, made her appearance, she really lost it. Half the time, they used CGI, and the other half they used a doll. She also enjoyed the transformation scenes. Traci asked me, "Why do they keep showing her panties?" "That's called 'fan service'. They like to do that in anime to appeal to horny guys like me." She laughed and asked me if that made me horny. I chuckled and told her no, it did not. I thought about saying the pretty girl sitting next to me did that, but I held my tongue. After the first episode was over, I asked her if she wanted to see the second episode. She said yes, so I started that one up and went to the kitchen to grab two more diet sodas. When I returned with the drinks, I had noticed that she had unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. Again, I paid more attention to her than I did to the episode. Don't get me wrong; the actress who played Usagi, a.k.a. Sailor Moon, was kawaii (cute). I just found Traci more interesting. She glanced at me a couple of times, and I was able to hold her gaze for a little bit before she smiled and returned to watching the plasma. When it was over, I asked her if she was attending Central City High. "I'm going to be a freshman. I have to stop by there tonight because I am going to try out for water polo and need to have a physical. I could have gotten one for free at the hospital that my mom works at, but I figured it would be easier to get it done at the school." "Oh? Does the school have a girls' team?" I asked her. "Sometimes they do. I don't think there are enough people interested in it this time, so I'll have to play with the boys." Passing the chance to point out what she had just said, I made up my mind that I would also try out for water polo. I knew the basic rules, but I had not trained in that sport. Part of the domestic training that we had to undertake was to be familiar with all types of sports, including lacrosse and hockey. There were times when our target might be part of a team, so we had to be good enough so we could be close to them. She grew excited when I mentioned that I was going to be in band and taking dance. "So am I. I play the piccolo, and I'm also taking dance." I smiled at her, but inside, my mind was going into overdrive. I was certain that I would be physically monitored, besides the electronic surveillance I was under. I knew all of the agents within Traci's age range, and there was no way she was one of them. Then again, there could always be a second program with another group of children, but due to the risk, I doubted it. Another possibility was that she was a child of an FBI agent and was just a pawn. Civilians were sometimes used like that in low-risk situations. I made a mental note to proceed with caution. I then realized that I was starting to develop clandestine mentality, paranoid behavior, and that it would be silly to waste physical resources to monitor me when they could just use electronics. "Looks like we might have a couple of the same classes, then," I said smiling. "Coolio. You might not have noticed, but the neighborhood is mostly old people who don't have any children our age. There was a brother and sister, who were a couple years older than me, that lived four houses down, but they moved last year. They were more Lori's friends than mine." "Lori is your sister?" I asked. "Yeah. She's okay. Actually, after Dad passed away, we've become closer. She doesn't bully me around too much any more," replied Traci. "Tell me about your family." Traci then went on to explain that her mother, Marge, and father, John, had met in Medical School. When Marge got pregnant with Lori, she had to drop out. They quickly got married, and Marge took care of Lori while John continued with school. Traci came three years later, and they moved to Central City when her father graduated Med School and got a job at the local hospital. Three years ago, Traci's father was diagnosed with cancer, and he died within eight months of finding out about it. The medical bills and school loans took a big chunk of their savings, so Traci's mom had to work. She was able to become a Registered Nurse quickly, thanks to her previous medical classes, and she was working at the hospital that her late husband once practiced at. "It's going to be the first time that I'll be attending the same school as Lori since elementary school. She has been telling me all of the tricks and what's in and what's not," Traci said excitedly. "Maybe you can tell me some of them, as well. Say, would you and your sister like to eat over here tonight? I was thinking about making some spaghetti, but it is kind of silly to make it just for one." "Well, I'll need to check with Lori," and with that, she started to reach for her cell phone. I stopped her and said, "Why don't you use my phone?" After I showed her where the phone was, I went to the kitchen to prepare the meal, just in case. I had just put a pot of water on the range when she came into the kitchen. "When will you have dinner ready?" Traci asked. "I think I can have it done in half an hour, if I use sauce from a jar." "Coolio," she said, and she went back into the living room to resume the conversation she was having with her sister. I sliced a loaf of French bread in half and spread butter on both halves. I only added garlic to one half, not knowing if the girls would enjoy it like I did. It was while I was tossing the salad that the doorbell rang. When I answered the door, I was greeted by another beautiful teen. She was not as tan as her sister was, but she did possess the same hazel eyes and brunette hair. The length was shorter than Traci's, but her breasts were larger -- 34C, I guessed. She appeared to be a couple inches taller than her younger sister was, but had the same athletic body. "Hi, you must be Lori. I'm Chad. Please, come in," I said, holding out my hand. She shook it rather firmly as she came in. She looked around, and then she looked at me, her eyebrow arching. "You live here all by yourself?" she asked me, not quite believing it. "Yup. The rest of the family is off seeing the world, so they bought me this house so I could attend school in a somewhat safe environment. I was living up in San Jose, but they thought there would be fewer distractions down here. If you want to check out the house, feel free. Traci can show you around. I would do it myself, but I still have some stuff to take care of in the kitchen," I told my new houseguest. I figured we might as well eat in the dining room, so I had the table ready and the dishes set out when they returned. "Does your mom mind if you drink wine with your dinner?" I asked the two of them. Lori replied, "I am not too sure if that would be wise. Traci and I are getting our physicals this evening, and I don't think it would be good to show up with alcohol on our breath. Also, I don't know what they test for when they take our urine samples." "That's right! The Athletic Code states that you can't drink or use tobacco products," I said, frowning. "Well, last year when the cops busted a party that had some football players at it, they got off with a warning, but that was due to them being in the CIF playoffs. I think if they were Junior Varsity or in another sport, they would have been kicked off the team," Lori explained. "Okay, how about juice or soda instead?" It turned out that Traci liked the garlic bread, while her sister stayed away from it. "You must have a boyfriend and will be seeing him later," I kidded Lori. She blushed a little, but insisted that she was not currently seeing a guy. I turned to Traci and asked, "And are you seeing anybody?" She looked down and said, "No." Her blush was harder to detect because of her tan. "What about you, Chad, you have a girlfriend up in San Jose?" Lori asked me. "Nope. I mostly stayed at home and studied. The only problem with home schooling is that, at the school dances, the only girls there were my mom and sister," I replied. I nearly spit out my juice when Traci told her sister, "Chad likes big-breasted women who expose their panties." A giggling Traci went on to explain about fan service and the anime that I watch, including the live-action Sailor Moon that we had watched earlier. After we finished our meal, the girls helped me clear the table. As I washed the dishes, Traci helped me dry them and put them away. It would probably have taken the same amount of time if I had done them solo, since I had to stop and point out to Traci where they belonged. Lori told her sister, "It's getting close to the time of the physical, so we better go home and change." "Could bum a ride with you two?" I asked them. A hopeful Traci looked at her sister at that; she smiled when Lori shrugged and said, "Sure. Fifteen minutes good enough?" "Yeah, I can be ready by then. I'll meet you in front of your house, okay?" They left, and after a quick shower and an outfit change, I met the two of them fifteen minutes later, wearing a tee shirt, shorts, and my Birkenstocks. We piled into Lori's Honda Accord and drove to the school. I sat in the back, while Traci sat up in front with Lori. I asked Lori, "What sport are you going to do?" "Actually, I'm going to be a cheerleader during the fall and winter. I might try out for track in the spring." The girl in the passenger seat said, "I also wanted to try out for cheerleading, but with water polo and band, it would be too difficult for me to attend the different events. Granted, I would have been on the Junior Varsity squad, but my plate would be rather full. I'm going to try out for the spring squad, instead." "What sport are you trying out for, Chad?" Lori asked me. Traci's eyes lit up when I said, "I want to give water polo a shot." Since we had to split up at the P.E. department, we decided to meet back at Lori's car, afterwards. It looked like the guys' line was longer than the girls', so I told them if they had to wait for more than ten minutes, they could take off and I could walk home. They said that they could not do that and promised me that they would be there. I was surprised how fast they were able to check everyone. It was like an assembly line. They had three doctors and, I guessed, a few coaches set up, so that you just stopped by each station, where they weighed you, recorded your height, checked your blood pressure, listened to your breathing, checked for hernias, and then had you piss on a stick. I think Lori's concern about the urine test detecting alcohol was not merited after seeing how they tested it. I turned in the completed release form after they noted on there how I was in peak physical condition. I jogged back to the car to discover that the girls were apparently not done yet, but I was only waiting there for a couple of minutes before they showed up. They explained that, while their line was shorter than the guys', it seemed to take twice as long. "Lori, can you give Chad a ride to school?" asked Traci, as Lori drove us back home. "I don't see why that would be a problem. Only thing is that I don't know when cheerleading practice will end compared with you guys' water polo practice. Also, you'll have to find your own way back home on days that I have to cheer in the away games." "Thanks, that will be cool. We can always play it by ear," I told my new chauffeur. When we pulled into their driveway, I saw late 90s BMW parked there. From what Traci had told me about her family, I had a good guess on whose it was. "Guess Mom's back. Would you like to meet her, Chad?" asked Traci. "I would love to meet the mother who created such beautiful offspring," I replied to the two blushing girls. Inside, I winced at what I had just said; I should have been able to come up with a smoother line than that. While it was easy to notice the resemblance between Traci and her mother, it was striking to see how identical Marge Caspar was to her eldest daughter. With matching figures, it would not be far off to imagine them sharing each other's wardrobe. Perhaps it was because of my upbringing, but I noticed that only a few minor alterations were needed for them to body-double for one another. The one thing that would be difficult to copy were the eyes. Marge's hazel eyes possessed something that her daughters' did not; hidden behind the warmth was a trace of great sorrow. I caught myself staring at Mrs. Caspar after our initial introduction, so I quickly apologized, "I'm sorry. I thought I was going to meet Traci and Lori's mother, not their older sister." Once again, I came up with a cliché remark, but Mrs. Caspar did not seem to mind terribly. Unlike her daughters, she did not have a tan, so it was much easier to see her blush. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she told me with a smile. "Guess what, Chad lives by himself," Traci eagerly told her mother, which caused her to arch her eyebrow like Lori's. "No," I corrected Traci, "I live 'by' you. I just happen to be the only one that occupies the house." Traci rolled her eyes at my silly pun, but Marge seemed intrigued. "So why is it that you are the only one occupying the house?" "It's a long and boring story, but let's just say it boils down to a difference of opinion between what my mom and IRS considers 'insider trading'," I replied. My explanation seemed to satisfy Mrs. Caspar, so I made some additional small talk with them for a while, then when I left, I told them that they should always feel free to stop by. Mrs. Caspar told me likewise. Since I had already showered, albeit a quick one, I went ahead and stripped for bed. I started to lie down when I remembered that I should check the video feeds. I scanned through them and found nothing out of the ordinary, so I deleted them. I selected a few new BitTorrents for download, and then I launched a media player and had it play back the portion of Morning Sedition that I had missed as well as Unfiltered. I set the alarm clock to 6:00 and soon fell asleep listening to it. ------- Chapter 3 "A child educated only at school is an uneducated child." - George S. I awoke a couple minutes before 6:00, my internal clock back on schedule. Morning Sedition was just ending and Unfiltered was about to start, so I did my morning ablutions, sans cigarette. I decided that I would try to adhere to the Athletic Code. Perhaps I would still have a cigarette or two on the weekend, but not on school days. Already, I was coming up with ideas on when it would be okay to smoke. Next, it will be okay to have a cigarette when I am in front of the computer. Then it will be okay to have one after sex. I paused while I brushed my teeth when I thought about that. Yesterday, I would have attended a sex workshop back at the Compound if I were still there. Each month, we would cover different aspects of sexuality so that it could be used as a tool in our arsenal. Sex was a weapon that was used with precision, but we were taught to approach it with personal detachment. Perhaps because it was sometimes used as an assassination technique, like the ones I was taught, or to gain favors with the other person involved, but there was no personal connection with the act itself. Do not get me wrong, I enjoyed the feelings of it, especially when it involved members of the opposite sex, but it was nothing special. I would sometimes get more enjoyment watching a new anime episode than sex. Perhaps I should see what it felt like in the outside world rather than what I experienced in the Compound or on training missions. I decided on jeans, a tee shirt, and Birkenstocks for my school apparel. It was not chilly enough for a jacket yet. I grabbed a beach towel and two pairs of Speedos, then tossed these in my backpack along with a school binder and a few pens. I had to search around for the flute and found it in the walk-in closet. I doubled-checked it to make sure it did not contain any "surprises" and added it to my backpack. After I ate a bowl of cereal with soymilk for breakfast, I grabbed a protein bar and a banana just in case the lunch at school was not appealing. I met Traci and Lori at Lori's car, and she drove Traci and me to school. When we arrived at school, we separated to get our class schedules and locker assignments. Traci was waiting for me after I received mine and wanted to compare it to hers. As we walked towards our lockers, Traci explained that she had taken English during summer school, so she was able to have two electives, Band and Dance, during her first semester. We did end up having those two classes together. When she saw that I was enrolled in Advanced Placement Calculus, she said, "You might be in the same class as Lori." Lori had gone off with some of her cheerleader friends and Traci had not seen what her class schedule had looked like. She then handed my schedule back to me and we had to part, since her lockers were further into the school in the freshman section. As I approached my locker, I noticed a rather tall girl squatting down, trying to open her locker. She finally stood up and gave the locker a kick while cursing at it. She was six foot, four inches tall and had blue eyes and long, straight, platinum blonde hair. Even with the baggy clothes that covered her milky white skin, it was not difficult to see that she had a very athletic body. Her breasts were between an A and a B cup, but they fitted her frame nicely. "Hey, do you need any help?" I asked her. She turned to look down at me and shook her head. "I'm just frustrated. This is the fourth year in a row that I've ended up with a bottom locker. Even in Junior High, I was rather tall and always got stuck with the bottom one." "Ah, I see. Do you do drugs?" A wave of confusion washed across her face. "No, why do you ask?" "Well, since my locker is on the top row, I thought I would suggest swapping, that is unless you plan on keeping drugs in the locker. Since it would still be under my name, I would be the one that would get in trouble when they brought in the drug-sniffing dog, which I am sure that this school does," I explained. "That would be totally awesome. You don't mind swapping? I promise not to keep anything in there that would get you into trouble," she said with a hint of excitement in her voice. I chuckled and said, "Sure, no prob." We swapped locker combinations, and I was able to find out from the paper she traded with me that her name was Francine Johnson. As I was transferring some of my stuff into the locker, I heard a voice behind me. "Hey Sis, whatcha doing with a locker above me this time?" "There was somebody who was courteous enough to swap with me, Bro," replied Francine. She glanced down to me and said, "This is my twin brother, Chuck." I closed my locker, stood up and turned around to meet Francine's "twin". He was a foot shorter than Francine, had dreadlocks, and weighed about two hundred and thirty pounds. He was also very black. "Hi. Name's Charles Johnson, but people call me Chuck. Fran and I have been going to school together since kindergarten, and since we both had the same last name and birthday, we started to call ourselves the Johnson Twins." I shook his hand and introduced myself. "Chad Johnson. I just moved down here from San Jose." "Cool, another Johnson. I think with you, we'll be up to eight Johnsons on campus," Chuck told me. "Six," Francine corrected Chuck. "Martha and Eddie graduated." "Yeah, but JJ and Madeira are freshmen this year, so they replace them. Plus, we don't know if there were any Johnsons from Paulding or additional transfers like Chad," Chuck retorted. From research I had done, I knew that Paulding was one of two middle schools that fed into the high school. From what Chuck had just said, I gathered that he and Francine had attended the other one, Judkins. Letting out a small snort, Francine told me, "Chuck is obsessed with the size of our 'Johnson'." I smiled in response to the weak pun. While I had only had my last name for a few days, the slang term was not lost on me. It would not be too far out of line to guess that whoever had assigned my name had some fun with coming up with it; a common name that could also refer to male genitalia. It could have been far worse: 'Chad Bush' was horrifying on so many levels. Chuck ignored Francine's dig and asked me, "You like anime?" I figured that my Witch Hunter Robin tee shirt had provoked the inquiry. As I nodded my head, a large grin erupted across his face, his bright white teeth contrasting greatly with his dark skin. Francine rolled her eyes and said, "Don't let him get started on that stuff. He goes on and on about it." "So can I," I informed her. "Well, thanks again for swapping with me. I don't know how I can repay you," Francine said. "Well, maybe you could wear a mini-skirt so I could check out your sexy legs and have a nice view when I have to open my locker," I said winking at her. Her shocked expression caused Chuck and me to laugh; before too long she started to chuckle, as well. "I should be upset at you, Chad. The only time I am ever taller than Fran is when her locker is below mine and she has to squat down to open it. However, you seem to be alright." We bid farewell to each other and headed to our classes. First period was ten minutes longer than the rest of the periods so that the teacher could read the school bulletins and take care of any special tasks. My first class was Honors English and the teacher was Mrs. Todd, an older woman in her mid-fifties with grey hair. It turned out that there had been some summer reading assigned to last year's freshman Honors class, and they were to turn in their reports and discuss what they had read. It turned out that I was the only one who had not had a chance to do the assignment, but since I had already read two of the three books she had assigned, she gave me a library pass so I could go there and work on it for the rest of the period. The library was mostly empty when I got there. After I gave the librarian my pass, I decided that I could spend my time a little bit more wisely. I found the school yearbook for last year and went about memorizing everybody's name and face. I did that for about fifteen minutes before I was positive that I would be able to recognize everybody. After I put away the yearbook, I asked the librarian if they had the local paper on microfilm. She said that they did not, but I could access previous editions via the Internet, pointing to one of the terminals. I thanked her and returned to my seat to read the book that I had not read yet. I was able to speed-read the book quickly, so when I finished, I started to think about the Caspars. Lori's junior picture was in the yearbook, and both she and Traci knew other students in the school. I had just about ruled them out as being agents, but I wanted to check the paper's obituaries from two and a half years ago to see if they listed John Caspar's death. I did not trust the computer, since it would be rather simple to insert false information into an electronic file. Even the yearbook could have been altered, since it was one the few copies I could easily get my hands on. I could almost rule out the Caspars unless they were deep cover, set up in this community whose sole purpose was to monitor the safe house, no matter who was living in there. I then decided that, even if they were monitoring me, I would behave just as I had planned. I had eight minutes from when first period ended to the start of second period. I already planned ahead and had my flute in my backpack, so I was able to walk from the library to the band room instead of trying to rush to my locker for it. We spent most of period playing scales and playing a simple piece of music. The music teacher, Mr. Foley, would have individuals solo certain sections to figure out what chair they should be. If woodwinds were my weak point, the flute was one of my weakest. I ended up being last chair in the flute section. The upside was I was sitting next to the first chair of the piccolo section, Traci. After band was over, there was a ten-minute break -- actually, eighteen if you included the usual eight-minutes they gave us between periods -- between second and third periods. The snack bar was open so that students could buy some food. Traci and I walked around the Quad, looking at all the people gather and hang out in groups. We talked about her day for a little bit until she spotted some friends and went over to say hi to them. Before she left me, she asked if I wanted to eat lunch with her. I said sure, then stopped by my locker to stash my flute and some books that I had acquired in English. A warning bell rang, telling everybody they had eight minutes to get to class, so I headed off to AP Physics. Miss Austin was the teacher, and she handed out a textbook and syllabus. She was attractive for a woman in her forties. I found myself thinking I might enjoy having her as a teacher. Most of the period was spent explaining what was expected from us and what type of questions we could expect on the Advanced Placement test. It seemed like time had flown by when the bell later rang, marking the end of the period. When I arrived at AP Calculus, I saw that Lori was already in the room. She was surprised to see me there, but gestured to an unoccupied desk next to her. I joined her, and we were able to talk for a minute before the bell rang, marking the start of the class. The Math teacher's name was Mrs. Hart, and we went through the same routine of receiving textbooks and the class syllabus. After she went over the syllabus with us, she started her lesson. I kept notes, even though I already knew how to do what she was explaining. I figured that I should at least keep up the appearance that I needed to learn what she was teaching. When fourth period ended, Lori and I walked back to the Quad together. I asked her, "How's the lunch here?" She shrugged and answered, "The only good thing that they serve at the snack bar is pizza, but the line can be long if you don't get there early. They do have a killer salad bar in the cafeteria that most students overlook. They used to charge $1.50 for a plate, but too many people were stacking their plates like a foot high, so they now charge by the ounce. I can't remember exactly how much they charge, but I think it's still is a good deal." "Guess I'll be eating salad, then. Thanks for the info." She smiled and nodded and, when I reached my locker, I told her that I would see her after school, and she continued on to her locker. I stashed my backpack in my locker and went over to the cafeteria to get a salad. After I got my salad, I looked around the Quad until I saw Traci waving at me from a table with three other girls at it. I joined them. "Chad, this is Rose, Pollyanna, and Michelle. They are my best friends from Junior High. Gals, this is my next-door neighbor Chad." I smiled and said hello to each of them. As I ate my salad, I only paid a little attention to the conversation while I watched the interaction between the four girls. After I observed Rose and Pollyanna for about five minutes, I was pretty positive that they were lovers. From the subtle body language, the way that they looked at each other, and slight brushes of hands, I had little doubt about it. I did not think that Michelle and Traci knew, either. I also could detect Michelle having more than just friendship on her mind when she would look at Traci, but Traci seemed to be unaware of it. While all four girls were quite pretty, for some reason, I found myself thinking that Traci was the most beautiful. It slowly dawned on me that I might actually be attracted to Traci. I started to think more about that when I heard Traci mention that I lived by myself. I smiled weakly and said, "Traci, I hope you didn't tell too many people about that. I don't think it would be a good idea if that information got around. I am sure that I can trust everyone at this table, but if word got out, I might be pestered to have parties or use my house for dates and whatnot because it would be devoid of parental supervision." "Oh, Chad, I'm sorry! I didn't think about that. I won't tell anybody else about it. I promise," said Traci, who sounded sincerely remorseful. Yup, this feeling must be attraction. Instead of getting upset at how my security had been compromised, I felt guilty because I had made Traci feel sad. I touched her shoulder lightly and told her, "It's alright, it's my fault, because I didn't tell you not to tell people about my living situation." The other three girls promised not mention it to anybody, and I thanked them. The rest of lunch continued, and we talked about our classes, and what we thought about the school. When lunch was over, I said goodbye to the girls and headed back to my locker to grab my backpack and clothes I would need for dance and water polo. Honor's World History had many of the same students as my English class, but luckily the instructor had not assigned any summer homework. Mr. Turner, the history teacher, seemed to get great joy in teaching. After handing out the syllabus and textbook, he explained that, since this was an Honor's class, that it would be more intense than a regular class. He would expect more from us, and our work would be held at a higher standard. After class was over, he asked me to stay behind for a moment. "Mr. Johnson, I understand that you are interested in trying out for the water polo team?" "Yes, Mr. Turner, I am," I replied. "Well, I am the Junior Varsity coach, so I was wondering how much experience you had." "Well, I know the rules and that I'm a good swimmer, but I have not actually played any water polo before." He nodded and told me, "I'll see you at practice after school." I had to hurry to the dance class, since it was on the other side of the campus. I made it there just before the bell rang. There were about two dozen girls and only three other guys in the dance studio. I had just walked over to Traci when a middle-aged woman strolled in. "Greetings, dancers. My name is Ms. McCann, and I shall be your dance instructor. If you did not bring anything to dance in, don't worry. For the first week, we shall be going over the history of dance. If you will grab your stuff and follow me, we will go to an empty classroom that we shall be using for the remainder of the week." We followed Ms. McCann to the empty classroom and grabbed seats. Traci made sure to grab a seat next to mine. Ms. McCann handed out her syllabus, as well as some handouts that would cover what we would be studying for the week. "We will be covering a different style of dance every three weeks. At the end of each course, there will be a written and demonstration test that will cover what we have learned." She then launched into a lecture about dance through the ages. She suggested strongly that we take notes, since the handouts she gave us did not cover everything that would be on the quiz she would be giving on Friday. After class, Traci and I walked together to the P.E. department. She went into the girls' locker room while I went into the boys'. Since I was not in P.E., I did not have a locker there, so after I changed into my Speedos and wrapped my towel around my waist, I threw my clothes into my backpack and took it with me to the pool. The swimming pool was in an "L" shape. It was twenty-five meters long and ten meters wide. It had eight lanes and went from three feet at one end to five feet at the other. At the five-foot end, it made a right angle and stretched twenty meters. After ten meters, it dropped from five feet to twelve feet. There was a low and high diving board at the end of the deep section. I tossed my backpack along the fence that surrounded the pool and did some stretching before Mr. Turner arrived. He asked those who had signed up for J.V. water polo to gather around him. He introduced himself as Coach Jack Turner and that he would respond to either Coach Jack or Coach Turner. I recognized six sophomores, one of them being Francine Johnson. There were five faces that I did not recognize who I guessed were freshman, one of them being a girl. We were told to dive in and to swim some warm-up laps in the first four lanes. When I removed my towel, I noticed Traci glancing at my groin. I think she was rather surprised, but she quickly dove in before I could fully gauge her reaction. I dove in, and since Coach Turner did not say how long we would be swimming, I started a slow-paced freestyle. After a few laps, he asked us to swim with our heads-up. I did not find it difficult at all, since I had trained to do that before. After a few more laps, he wanted us to swim all out with our heads down for five strokes, then to roll onto our backs and backstroke for five strokes, then to roll back onto our fronts and swim the rest of the lap heads-up. We did that a few times before he stopped us. We moved down to the deep end, and he went over the practice of "egg beating", treading water without using our arms. We did that for a while before he tossed in a half-dozen balls, caps with ear protectors for all of us, and then covered ball handling. We split into two lines and practiced passing to each other. We did that for about fifteen minutes before swapping with the varsity squad and returning to the five-foot section of the pool, where a couple of players got out and set up the goal cage. Fran got into the goalie position, and we took turns taking shots at the goal; Fran was able to block just about all of the shots. We had to drive towards the goal and then pull up and shoot. I did that twice and Fran blocked both times, but on the third time, I pulled up and shot with my left hand. She was not expecting that, and I was able to score. I mixed up which arm I used as my shooting arm and was able to score on her a few more times. We finished practice at five o'clock, and Coach Turner came up to me as I was drying myself off. "Chad, are you left- or right-handed?" "I'm right-handed, but I can use my left pretty well," I answered. Coach Turner said, "I might want to use you in the hole position. I think tomorrow, when we run a scrimmage; I'll have you try it out. You are picking up the game pretty quickly." "Cool. Thanks, Coach Turner. I hope I don't let you down." I headed back to the locker room and took a quick shower to wash off the chlorine. I quickly dressed and went out to wait next to the girls' locker room. Fran came out before Traci did, so I had an opportunity to talk to her for a little bit. "You're pretty good," I told the blonde Amazon. "You, too," she replied with a grin. "The way you kept mixing it up sure kept me on my toes." I asked, "So why is it you don't have a tan? This can't be your first time playing water polo." Still grinning, she answered, "Actually, it is. Last year, when I was on the volleyball team, I messed up my knee big time, and it had to be operated on. After I progressed to the point where I didn't need crutches, my doctor suggested swimming for rehab. The pool that I used was an indoor one, though, so no tan." Her grin faded slightly as she explained her ordeal. I thought I detected a trace of remorse in her voice, but if it was there, it did not last long, as she continued her explanation. "It's still too early for me to rejoin the volleyball team, so I thought that I would give water polo a shot. I had Coach Turner for Social Science last year, so I told him that I was interested in trying out for the team. He suggested that I would make a good goalie with my wingspan. I'm also used to having balls projected at me at a high velocity, but the idea of catching them is kinda freaky." "I guess there's no need for you to wear a miniskirt, then, since I'll be seeing your sexy legs nearly every day," I joked. Fran began to giggle, and I noticed some redness creeping into her cheeks. She was an attractive young lady, but it seemed as if she had not received many compliments. It was while Fran was giggling that Traci came out. I said goodbye to Fran and Traci and I went off to see if Lori was done with cheerleading. "What was Fran giggling at?" Traci inquired once we were out of earshot. I explained my encounter with her and her "twin" earlier in the day. We stopped by our lockers to pick up stuff we would need to complete the night's homework and then arrived where Lori had told us that the cheerleaders would be practicing. Nobody was there, so we headed out to the parking lot and found Lori at her car. "Practice ended a couple of minutes ago, so I was just bringing my stuff out to the car. You two ready?" Lori asked. Traci and I nodded and the three of us piled in, and she drove us home. Traci told her sister as much as she could about her first day of high school on the short drive, and when we pulled into their driveway, she asked me, "You want to come in and do homework together?" "Sure," I answered. "I just need to take care of some stuff first." Traci grinned, and Lori instructed me, "We'll leave the door unlocked, so just come right on in." I ran next door, undocked my laptop, and tossed it into my laptop case. Checking to made sure that I had a power cord in the case, I laid out my Speedos and towel to dry in the bathroom. I then headed back over to the Caspars' house. I entered their house and followed the sound of their voices to their dining room. They were sitting at their dinner table, so I joined them there. I set up my laptop and discovered that I could still pull down a decent connection from my wireless router. I decided to select a few more BitTorrents to download and then set about to write my English assignments. After I was done with that, I moved on to Calculus. I helped Lori with some problems that she was having with her homework, and when we were done with that, she got up and said she better start on dinner. "You're welcome to stay for dinner," Lori invited me. "Hmm. Go home and microwave a frozen dinner, or have a home-cooked meal made a sexy senior. I think I'll stay, thank you." Lori chuckled as she went off into the kitchen, and I noticed Traci studying me. When I raised my eyebrows, she asked, "Do you flirt with everybody? Hell, yesterday it seemed like you were putting the moves on Mom, even." I pretended to give her question some deep thought before replying slowly, "No, not everybody. I don't think I flirted with Ms. McCann or Mr. Foley." Traci was unsuccessful in suppressing her laughter. When she calmed down, she told me, "Probably because you couldn't get them alone." I chuckled, and we returned to our homework. I was able to finish it quickly, but I pretended to study while I contemplated about what Traci had brought up. Flirting, when done correctly, was an effective technique to ease a subject and have them lower their guard. It did not appear that Traci was annoyed with my flirtation with other women, mainly amused. I figured it was safe to continue my flirting with others. After Traci had finished her homework, we talked about water polo practice. We were discussing how our day went when Marge got home. She stopped by say a quick hello to us before going to her room to change out of her nurse uniform. When she returned to the dinning room, she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and baggy jeans. I think she was trying to tone down her sexiness, but failed. She had just sat down at the table to hear about our day when Lori called out that dinner was ready. Traci jumped up to help set the table, and when I started to rise up to assist, Marge told me, "Sit down and let the girls take care of it." As I stowed my books away, I asked Marge, "How was your day?" Marge seemed slightly taken aback and pleased that I was inquiring about her. "Good as can be expected. I had to work the Emergency Room today, but thankfully, there was nothing too major. There was a car accident, but it happened before I came on. Some drunken asshole plowed into a streetlight. They had to amputate his left leg, and if I would have had to assist, I doubt I would be in the mood to eat." Nodding, I said, "Hopefully he'll learn his lesson and not drink and drive." Marge let out a cynical snort. "More likely he'll just keep on drinking and learn how to drive with just his right. At least this time, nobody else was injured. I've lost count of how many times I've seen drunk drivers escape with minor injuries while the people they hurt fare far worse." Our conversation turned to more pleasurable topics, and even after our food arrived and Traci and Lori joined us, the four of us talked throughout dinner. When we finished, I insisted in helping with the clean-up. When that was taken care of, I was invited to watch television with them in the living room. I did not want to overstay my welcome, so I politely declined and said that I better head back home and take care of some stuff over there. Traci seemed a little disappointed, but said she would see me tomorrow morning. The DISH system had a built-in DVR, so I programmed it to record some shows, mostly news programs from the international channels. I also programmed it to record the September sumo tournament, since it was a two-hour broadcast that began at midnight. I watched a few of the recent anime downloads and read my World History textbook. I then retired to the bedroom and took a nice long bath. Before I got into my bath, I had the computer play back the Air America programs it had recorded that morning so I could listen to it while I soaked in the tub. After I was done with my bath, I checked the day's security feeds, deleted the files, and crawled into bed. I fell asleep listening to Unfiltered. ------- The next couple of days were pretty much the same routine. On Wednesday, Coach Turner was true to his word and tried me out in the hole position; it worked pretty well. That evening, the girls came over to my house and we did our homework together again. "When is your mom getting off of work?" I asked the two of them. "Not till eleven," Lori answered. I announced, "Okay, it's my turn to make dinner, then." Lori protested, "Oh no, you don't have to go through the trouble. I ca--" "Lori!" Traci interrupted. She glared at her older sister for a few seconds, and while I do not know if it was because they possessed a sisterly bond, but Traci seemed to communicate her objection wordlessly. Relenting, Lori told me, "I guess we're staying for dinner." Smiling, I said, "Good. I'll make sure to make extra so you can bring home a plate for your mom." Shaking her head, Lori explained, "That's not really necessary. You see, when Mom works late, she'll grab a bite to eat at the commissary or pick something up on her way home." "Okay, but let's try to alternate nights making dinner. I don't want to be mooching off you guys, and cooking just for myself is boring." "Guys?" Traci asked, arching her eyebrow. "Beautiful, attractive, young ladies," I corrected with a wink. That seemed to appease Traci, so I went into the kitchen to whip something up. Despite my protests, Traci and Lori both came in and assisted me with the cooking. After we ate, Traci insisted on watching the third episode of the live action Sailor Moon; she wanted Lori to see how funny it was. When it was over, Lori and Traci went home, and I decided to take care of the laundry that had accumulated over the past few days. After I watched the programs that the DVR had recorded for me, I took my bath and went to bed. Thursday morning before classes started, Chuck and I ran into each other at our lockers. He wanted for me to eat lunch with him and a couple of his friends. I told him sure, so he told me where they usually ate in the Quad. When I saw Traci in band, I told her that I wouldn't be able to eat lunch with her and her friends and explained that Chuck wanted me to meet some people. She seemed a little sad when I told her that. I said, "Tell you what; I'll make it up to you by having lunch with you on Saturday." Before she had a chance to respond, class started and Mr. Foley brought the class quickly under control. We had to do the school's football halftime show by the next Friday and march in Central City's Harvest Festival parade in a couple of weeks, so it was important we learn the music quickly. There were also a few pieces we had to know to play when we were sitting in the stands at the games. When class was over, Traci told me lunch on Saturday would be great. I found Chuck at lunch, where he was at a table with three sophomores and a junior. I already knew their names, since they were in last year's yearbook, but pretended to learn them for the first time when Chuck introduced everybody. John Kawano, a sophomore, decided to test me when he greeted me. "Konichiwa. Ogenki desu ka?" he asked. I replied, "Genki desu. Okage sama de. Anata wa Sansei desu ka?" "Iie. Yon, " he answered, holding up four fingers. I saw Chuck grinning, and he said, "I recognize some of those words, but not all of them." John and I ended up alternating our explanation, with him starting first. "I told him good afternoon and asked him if he was well." "And I said, 'I'm good, thank you for asking' and then I asked if he was third generation Japanese-American." "I said, 'no, fourth'." John then turned to me and said with a grin, "That's pretty much all I know." It turned out that everybody at the table were fans of anime; they were almost in awe when I told them that I had actually done some fansubbing in the past. Mike Richards, the lone junior, said, "It would be cool if we could start a school club for those who liked anime, but we would need to find a teacher to make it official." "Well, until then, why don't we meet every Thursday here and meet unofficially?" I suggested. They agreed, and we spent the remainder of lunch talking about their favorite old shows as well as current ones. Bill Thompson and David Wright liked sci-fi action, Chuck and John enjoyed the romantic comedies, and Mike liked horror/suspense. I told them I liked just about everything, but did seem to enjoy the romantic comedies the best. When lunch was over, I told them I would see them around. When Lori drove Traci and I home that evening, I noticed Marge's car in their driveway. "Mom has the day off," Traci explained. I had started bringing my laptop to school, so I did not need to swing by my house to retrieve it. Marge was in the kitchen cooking dinner and was just about finished with it, so we ate dinner first and then did our homework. Since I did not have much to do, I spent most of my time helping Traci with some of her assignments. Lori borrowed my laptop to surf the web because they only had dial-up for Internet access. It was around 8:00 when Traci was finally done with her homework, and Marge invited me to stay and watch a movie with the three of them. "Thank you, but I think I had better head on home. It seems like you don't often get a chance to spend time together, so I don't want to intrude. Maybe some other time," I told Marge. I earned both a smile from her and a small pout from Traci. Lori started to log off my computer when I stopped her by adding, "You can hold onto my laptop; I'll get it from you tomorrow." The next morning on the way to school, Lori said, "Thanks for letting me use the laptop. It is such a pain to surf the net using dial-up." "Actually, since your computer is in your living room, we should be able to slap in a wireless card, and you can hop onto my internet access. We could also run an Ethernet cable from my house to yours so you can connect to it that way, as well." "Hmm, I'll have to check with Mom first," Lori said after a moment's thought. When we pulled into the school parking lot, Lori told us, "We're having a short practice today, so I won't be able to take you two home after school. My teammates want to do some clothes shopping before we go to a party tonight." "No worries. Traci and I can walk home, right?" "Yeah, no big deal," assured Traci. In band, we grabbed our instruments and went out to the football field. Mr. Foley spent the period showing us the patterns that we would be doing at the halftime and had us perform while moving. He told us that next week we would be on the football field every day, then on Monday, Wednesday and Friday the week after that; on that Tuesday and Thursday, we would practice marching on one of the side streets next to the school. We played against the Varsity squad at water polo practice. Even with Fran's excellent ball-blocking skills, we still lost, but it was a pretty close game. When Fran and Traci came out of the locker room, they were complaining about having to hold chairs above their heads while egg beating across the deep end of the pool, something that Coach Turner had us do before the scrimmage. I smiled to myself, thinking about how I had to practice the same thing back at the Compound, though it had been a sniper rifle and field pack that I had had to hold above my head. Traci and I said goodbye to Fran and walked home. I ate dinner with Traci and her mother, and we decided to knock out our homework right off so we did not have to worry about it over the weekend. When we finished, we joined Marge in the living room and watched a movie. After the movie was over, Marge announced, "I've got an early shift tomorrow, but you're welcome to stay and watch another one." "Thank you, Mrs. Caspar. Good night," I replied. After Marge had left, Traci asked, "What would you like to watch?" "I don't know, um, why don't you show me your favorite movie," I suggested. I seemed to have said the right thing, because her eyes lit up and she quickly went over to their DVD collection. After she loaded it into the DVD player, she rejoined me on the couch; a great deal closer to me on than before. It was a movie that I had not seen before, and it was quite good. Halfway through the movie, Traci nervously placed her hand on my leg. I felt her relax when I took her hand into mine and held it. She then leaned against me for the rest of the film. When the movie was over, she turned to me and timidly asked, "Would you kiss me?" "As you wish," I replied softly, using the line the hero had often told princess from the film we had just watched. She had her eyes closed and was breathing excitedly, her whole body a tangle of nerves. I leaned in slowly and softly brushed my lips across hers. I let them linger there for a few seconds before I felt her relax. When I pulled back, she opened her eyes and grinned at me. I could tell she wanted me to kiss her again, but lights from a car pulling into the driveway caused her to jump up from the couch. "That must be Lori," she said with disappointment in her voice. I stood up and smiled at her. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "I best be off." She walked me to the door and reminded me, "Remember, you promised me lunch tomorrow." "Like I could forget a lunch date with such a beautiful princess," I replied. Traci started to reach out to embrace me when the front door opened and Lori came into the house. "Good night, Traci, Lori." "Night, Chad," they both replied, not quite in harmony with one another. It was a little past midnight when I entered my house, so I ended up watching the sumo match. I actually enjoy the English commentary over the Japanese one, so I watched it like that and set up the DVR to record that version in the future. After it was over, I did my evening ritual, then changed the alarm on the clock to 10:00. I fell asleep while going over the past five days that I had known Traci. ------- Chapter 4 I woke up a couple minutes before my alarm would go off. I practically jump out of bed and quickly made my way over to my computer desk. I pulled out a Camel and lit up without due haste. After I had taken a long drag, I realized that according to the promise that I had made myself, I could have been smoking when I was watching sumo since it would have been technically Saturday. Since I would be eating lunch in a couple of hours, I decided that I would skip breakfast. Even though it was September, it was still rather warm so I decided to wear a pair of denim shorts and a tank top. I pretty much chained smoked while I went through my bank accounts. I knew I was going to take a hit with all of the extra goodies that was dispersed throughout the house. Only an idiot would think that the government would pay for the items that I required maintaining my upper class cover. I was surprised to find that all of my bank accounts, including the off shore ones, were untouched. It was when I checked my credit card accounts that I discovered how I ended up paying for all of it. I was unaware that the Amazon.com Visa had as high of credit limit as it did. I had enough in my checking account to pay off the bill, which I quickly did. There was no way that I wanted to pay interest on that much balance. It had taken me close to an hour to accomplish this so I then went to the kitchen and started preparing lunch. The doorbell rang while I was dicing an apple for the fruit salad I was making. After I rinsed my hands off, I answered the door. It was a little surprising when I opened the door to see Rose, Pollyanna, and Michelle standing around a blushing Traci. "Please come in," I said. As the three unexpected girls entered the foyer, Traci moved close to me and said, "I'm sorry Chad. I told the girls at lunch on Thursday that you were going to have a makeup lunch for me on Saturday. They just showed up at my house a half hour ago insisting that you also had to makeup the missed lunch with them as well." Traci was visibly relived when I said, "No worries." I then turned to address everyone and said, "Everybody should make herself at home. It would only take me a few more minutes to be done with lunch." I was lucky that I had planned to make extras for leftovers so I just used up everything instead. We ate tuna sandwiches, fruit salad, chips, and drank soda. When we were done with lunch, I suggested we could go swimming since it was a sunny day. "Yeah, but I didn't bring a bathing suit," said Pollyanna. "Me neither," added Michelle. Rose nodded, signaling that she did not have one as well. "You don't need suits for skinny-dipping." "Fat chance. I have plenty of suits at my house," Traci announced and the four girls ran next door to fetch them. I went to my bedroom and decided to wear a pair of swim trunks instead of my Speedos. I also grabbed a bunch of large towels and took them out to the pool. When the girls got back, I could have sworn a look of disappointment on their faces when they saw me wearing the trunks instead. I wondered if Traci had described what I looked like wearing my Speedos. When we went into the backyard, they began to strip. I had seen Traci plenty of times at practice in a swimsuit, but it was the first time I saw her wearing a two-piece one. Pollyanna and Michelle were about the same size as Traci so they were wearing one of Traci's single piece suits. Rose was slightly shorter than the rest of the girls, but had a bigger bust so I figured she was wearing one of Lori's two-piece suits. I stripped off my tank top and we all dove in. We swam around for a while and had fun splashing each other. I got out, dried myself off, and after stopping by the garage to pull grab an ice chest, went to the kitchen to stock it up with some sodas. As I was dumping ice cubes over the sodas, Traci came into the kitchen. She had a towel wrapped around her torso and another one wrapped around the top of her head. "Chad, I am so sorry that they came by and I did not warn you. I had wanted to call you, but I didn't even have your number." I walked over to her and placed my hands lightly on her hips. Looking deep into her eyes, I saw that she was worried that she had messed things up. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her that it was perfectly all right. "After all, I get to see four sexy young girls in swimsuits. What kinda guy would I be if I got angry over that," I said. I had to take a step back to avoid a playful punch that she threw at me, but she had a smile on her face and seemed more relaxed now that she knew she did not make a mistake. After I had put enough ice in the ice chest, she helped me carry it out to the pool. The rest of the girls got out and grabbed something to drink. They then decided to lie out and soak up some rays. Traci had grabbed a bottle of sun block when they had gone back to her house and asked me if I would rub it on her back. As I did, I decided to give her a massage as well. As I was working on her upper back, she asked if I could untie her bikini top so that it would not cause a tan line. She had her head down so I could not see her face, but I swore I saw her ears blush. I did as I instructed to and I felt her tense up a little when my hands ran down the side of her body, but relaxed as I did not get to close to her breasts. I also used the sun block to massage her arms and legs as well. When I was finished, I looked over to see the other three girls were laying face down and wanted me to do the same thing. Rose had already untied her top and Michelle and Pollyanna had rolled their suits down to their waist. I spent close to an hour massaging the three girls. Rose had a couple of knots in her back and actually groaned when I worked them out. Pollyanna was ticklish so I played with her a couple of times. By the time I had finished, I was tired and I feel asleep in less than a minute after I had lain out. It was during a very nice dream about Traci when I awoke to some inaudible whispers. Keeping my eyes closed I pretend to still be asleep. I was sure the physical result of the dream I had was to topic that was being whispered about. Deciding to have some fun and while I was not fully erect, I did focus and flexed my cock. I actually heard a couple of gasps and fought hard not to let a grin spread across my face. It was time to kick it up a notch. "Oh Traci, you sure you want to do this?" I moaned softly and flexed my cock again. Traci gasp and the other girls giggle as they heard what they thought me talking in my sleep. "Your breasts are just perfect Michelle. I could spend days licking them," was the second thing I moaned, this time flexing my cock twice. Michelle let out a small shriek when she heard this. I don't think I heard Traci giggling. "You taste so wonderful Pollyanna. You too Rose," I moaned. This time I did not hear any giggling, just silence. Thinking that I might have gone too far, I then felt the waistband of my trunks lifted and a handful of ice tossed in. My eyes popped open to see Traci glaring down at me. "Maybe that might cool you down," she declared, but I could see a slight twinkle in her eye that signaled that she had figured that I was just playing a trick on them. She screamed and jumped back laughing as I threw the ice cubes that I had retrieved from my trunks. When I stood up, the other three girls bum rushed me and pushed me into the pool. When I got out of the pool, I could tell that I had embarrassed all four of them so I apologized for playing such a dirty trick. They said that they were sorry that they had gathered around me when they saw the state I was in. "Well, you try being a guy being surrounded by four of the sexiest freshmen at Central City High and see if you're not affected." I was prepared for them this time when they rushed me and was able to toss each of them into the pool before I dove in. A wrestling match ensued for a little while in the water and more than one "accidentally" grabbing the wrong part of me. We pulled ourselves out of the water, dried off, and went into the house. Traci showed the girls where the bathrooms were and they all decided to take showers. Traci blushed something fierce when I asked her if she wanted me to help her. I went to the kitchen and cooked up a batch of microwave popcorn while they were taking their showers. I transferred the popcorn into a large bowel and started up a second batch. I went to my bedroom to change into a pair of slacks and tee shirt. I had just removed my swim trunks when the bathroom door opened. I had thought I had seen Traci blush before, but this time she turned crimson. Her eyes bugged out and mouth opened when she saw me naked. She stared at me for a second before rushing back into the bathroom. After I completed changing, I went over to the door and told her I was finished changing. Traci opened the door, and she came out, but stared at the floor. I apologized to her and said that I should have waited until nobody was in the bathroom before I changed. She mumbled something about it not being a problem. I stepped up to her and tilted her head up to look me in the eyes. I then kissed her tenderly, my eyes never leaving hers. When I stepped back, I saw her smiling softly, no longer looking away. After informing her that I had made some popcorn, I suggested we could all watch a movie. She agreed and we went back to the living room. Michelle was already in the living room and Pollyanna and Rose were still upstairs taking their shower. I would not have been surprised if they were gone for a while, but they showed up by the time Traci found a movie to watch. Pollyanna asked me, "Do you have any booze in the house?" I said, "I do, but if any parents found out that I gave alcohol to minors, I would be in a load of trouble." "My parents don't mind," Pollyanna promised. I asked, "Would like to have a Zima or wine?" She said, "Zima please," so I got one for her, diet sodas for Traci, Rose, and I, and a regular soda for Michelle. Before the movie was over, I asked the girls if they wanted pizza. They all agreed and that led into a conversation on who made the best pizza and what toppings should we get. I asked Traci if her mother was working tonight and she was. I suggested that we could invite Lori over so after I called in the delivery and found out when it would arrive, Traci called Lori's cell phone. Lori was at the mall with her friends and was going to be eating there. When the pizza arrived, the girls all insisted on paying their share for it. I told them that they were guests in my house and I would not accept money as payment. Now kisses on the other hand were perfect tender. They each gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, except Traci. She was the last one to kiss me and she gave me a quick peck on the lips. We all dove into the pizza and stuffed ourselves pretty well. "I need to get going. I told my folks that I would be home by 7:00," Michelle informed us. I walked her to the door and thanked her for stopping by. I added, "I'll not be having lunch with you gals every Thursday so I guess I should expect ya'll to be coming over every Saturday for a makeup." She chuckled and said, "Next time I'll call you first before crashing your lunch date with Traci." When I returned to the dining room, Traci was cleaning off the table. She told me, "I want to watch some more Sailor Moon." While she was in the kitchen washing the plates and utensils we had used, I told Rose and Pollyanna that they might not find it interesting since it was already a few episodes into the series, but they were welcome to use the hot tub. I said, "It would be at least an hour before Traci and I would be joining them so they should feel free to enjoy it fully." I winked after I said that and the look on their faces was a cross of embarrassment and shock of being discovered. I smiled at them as I went to the kitchen to help Traci dry and put away the dishes. Rose and Pollyanna changed back into their swimsuits and went out to the hot tub while Traci and I settled down on the coach. After I got the episode playing, I sat back and wrapped my arm around Traci's shoulders. I pulled her close to me and she rested her head on my shoulder. While we were watching it, I would slowly caress her arm. When the show ended, I guided her head to my lap. I ran left hand through her hair as I gazed down into her eyes. With my right hand, I lightly and slowly caressed my fingertips across her face. She closed her eyes when I drew my fingertips across her lips. I traced the outline of her jawbone. She felt me shift my weight as I leaned down to kiss her so she lifted her head, my hand moving behind it to support her. I started to kiss her softly and she hesitated for the briefest of moments when my tongue parted her lips. She accepted it in her mouth, our tongues dueling with each other. We broke our kiss after a few minutes, her head returning to my lap, her breathing heavy. She asked me if I could kiss her again. I whispered softly, "As you wish." When our lips met for the second time, she was the one to force her tongue into my mouth, her left hand clenching my head. We kissed passionately for about five minutes, but I felt her tense up as my right hand moved from her shoulder down towards her breast. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. I could see excitement in her eyes, but I could also see a little fear. I had her sit up and I turned to face her. "Traci, I want you to know that I have never felt this way about another person before. I am truly grateful that I was able to meet you. I care about you deeply and if you ever feel scared, you need to let me know and I will stop. We can go as slow as you need me to and I will not leave you because we are not going fast enough." A tear started to fall trickle down her left cheek so I leaned in and kissed it. I pulled her into a hug and held her. I barely heard her whisper thank you and I felt her start to relax. I ran my left hand slowly up and down her back and when she said she was thirsty, I got up to get her a glass of water. When I returned and handed the glass to her, she seemed disappointed when I sat away from her in the corner of the couch. I swung my right leg up while keeping my left one on the floor. She looked confused for a second when I beckoned her towards me but lit up when she realized what I wanted. Traci scooted over and laid her left side into my chest, my right arm wrapping across her back and my left arm around her waist. I held her for a while and she shifted her body so that back was in my chest, my right arm dropped down to join my left around her waist. I felt her relax as we enjoyed the warmth of each other. She soon fell asleep in my arms. I heard Rose and Pollyanna come into the house, but their entrance did not disturb Traci's slumber. When they got to the living room, they giggled when they saw the two of us. Pollyanna said that it looks like they missed all of the action. I spoke softly, trying not to disturb Traci, "I am sure more action occurred out in the hot tub rather than in here." I smiled at the reaction, a cross between surprise and embarrassment. Rose tried to come up with an answer when Traci woke up and opened her eyes. "I see that you two slept together," Rose said. Traci bolted up and exclaimed, "We didn't sleep together!" I grinned and said, "That's right. I stayed awake and Traci is the only one who slept." It took a few seconds for Traci to figure out what Rose had actually meant and we all hand a good chuckle over it. Traci excused herself to go use the bathroom. Rose and Pollyanna said that they had better go and take a shower before heading back to Traci's place. They both needed to be home by 10:00 and thought it would be best for Pollyanna's father to pick them up there since that is where they were dropped off. As they started up the stairs to use the upstairs bathrooms, I suggested that they could use the shower in the master bedroom since it was easily big enough for two. They giggled, declined, and ran up the stairs. I went out to collect the used towels and pick up empty cans and bottles. Traci joined me and the both of us drained the ice chest and took it back to the garage. When we went back into the house, she asked where Pollyanna and Rose went. I explained that they went upstairs to take a shower before having to head back to her place. Traci was upset at first when the girls showed up at her house today, but it turned out to be a pretty fun day. I told her that I would not be able to eat lunch with them every Thursday and had already told Michelle that we should make Saturday a regular event. I informed Traci that Michelle said she would warn me next time before she would come over. "You'd better not have given her your number before you gave it to me!" "Of course not. The first time I give my phone number out, it will be to my girlfriend. Now I just have to wait until Rose comes back so I can give it to her." I jumped back as she swung her fist at my arm. I went into the kitchen and wrote down my phone number on a piece of paper. I folded it in half and jotted down a quick note on it. I returned to Traci, gave her the paper, and asked her to give it on to Pollyanna. This time I did not step back when she hit me my arm after reading the 'To My Girlfriend' that I had written. "Damn you Chad! Your going straight to hell for playing with a poor girl's heart." she said with a twinkle in her eye. "As you wish," I replied. She asked me if she should write down her number for me but I told her she can just tell me and I will remember it. When she did and I parroted it back to her. She thought she would test me and told me the phone numbers for her cell, her mom's cell, Lori's cell, Michelle, Pollyanna, and Rose. I repeated them back to her and she was amazed. She demanded how I could remember all of those numbers. "That's easy. They all belong to beautiful women. It would be impossible to forget them." Traci did not get a chance to question me further because Pollyanna and Rose came back down. I walked everyone to the door and the two girls were not surprised when I gave Traci a light kiss and a long hug. They were surprised however when I jumped back to avoid Traci's punch. I had whispered to her to make sure she gave Lori the piece of paper. After the girls left, I went ahead and did my evening ritual. Two things were different about this evening's ritual. The first was that I smoke a Camel when I took my bath and the second was that I disabled the feeds from being sent to my computer. I deleted all of the feeds on the hard drive as well without viewing them. In the Compound, we were raised without a sense of privacy so it was a somewhat foreign concept to me, but I knew it was something that others valued. Over the past week, I thought that I had made some friends for the first time and did not want to do anything to jeopardize it. There was nothing I could do to prevent the feeds from being sent back to the Compound, short of disabling the cameras. When I got in bed, I do not think I had ever felt so as good as I did when I went over the day's events. I feel asleep with a smile on my face. ------- I woke up around 7:00 Sunday morning and the first thing I did after I rolled out of bed was to light up a Camel. I did my morning ritual and decided on oatmeal for breakfast. I took it into the living room and watched the sumo tournament that the DVR had recorded for me. I also watched some of the news it had recorded as well. When the phone rang, I answered it. "Hey sexy," I said. There was a light pause before Traci giggled. "Did you check caller ID," she asked me. I told her, "I did not. Only my girlfriend and apparently the Green Party are the only two people that knew my number and I told the Green Party to take me off their calling list" She pointed out, "Your parents and sister should know your number." Damn. I had not thought about that so I told her, "My parents and sister are sexy, especially my father." She laughed and asked, "What are you doing?" She made a rude noise when I said, "Just kicking back smoking Camels and watching television." Traci said, "You had better not expect me to kiss me on the lips if you have been smoking." "There are other parts of my body you could kiss instead," I replied. That caused another fit of giggles. I asked her, "Is your mother was home?" "Yeah, she is." I told her, "I want to stop by and talk to your mother." She asked why and I told her, "So I could tell her what a good kisser her daughter is." More giggling but she persisted on wanting to know why and when I told her I wanted to give her my phone number, she laughed yet again. I told her I would see her in ten minutes and we said goodbye. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. I decided on a polo shirt, khaki pants, socks, and a pair of dress shoes. I arrived in front of the Caspars' door exactly ten minutes after I had hung up with Traci. Traci flung open the door and gave me a quick hug before she let me enter the house. Her mother was doing some gardening in the backyard and Traci escorted me back there. Her mother stood up from some plants she was tending to say hello to me. I asked Marge if I could talk to her. She said sure, that now would be a good time to take a break. I asked Traci if she would mind if I talked to her mother alone. She pouted, but left us alone. Marge and I sat down at a table had a big umbrella over it. "Mrs. Caspar, I wanted to stop by today and ask for your permission to date your daughter." She raised her eyebrow and asked, "And if should refuse? Would you date her anyway?" "No I would not. I would continue to be her friend, but I would not let our relationship develop. I have very strong feelings about your daughter, ones that I have not experience with anybody else before. It would be difficult for me, but I would follow your wishes. "You have invited me into your house and I have eaten with you guys. I've enjoyed the time that I have spent with the three of you and I would hate to jeopardize the friendship that I have developed over the past week. "I also want you to know that I have told your daughter that care deeply about her and that I would do nothing that would hurt her. I told her that I can sense her fear and we will move at her pace and not mine." She studied me for a minute and I did not shift my gaze from hers. "Besides asking for permission to date my daughter, are you saying that you plan on having sex with her as well?" "I am not planning on having sex with her, but I think that if we were allowed to date, we might reach the point where we would make love. I have the utmost respect for you and your family and if you ask me any questions, I will answer honestly and never lie to you." Marge said, "Chad, you have given me a lot to think about. I don't think I can give you an answer right away." "I perfectly understand Mrs. Caspar. I also have a small favor to ask from you. Because I have been busy with school and water polo practice, I have not had any free time to stop by the hospital to have my blood tested for STDs. Could you pick up the forms that I need, draw the blood, and turn them in for me?" Marge blinked a couple of times and asked, "Should I be concerned that you want your blood tested?" "I have been sexually active in the past and I am pretty certain that my partners were clean, but when it comes to your daughter, I want to positive that I am not positive." She smiled a little at my pun. As she stood up, she shook her head and said, "Chad Johnson, your behavior does not match a typical fifteen year old." I got up and informed her that I could show myself out. Still, she and I walked back into the house together where Traci was waiting for us in the living room. She bolted from the chair she had been sitting in and rushed up, wanting to know what we had been talking about. I stepped close to her, wrapped my arms lightly around her waist and kissed her forehead. I told her that it was between her mother and me and that I needed to go back home. After me asking her not to bug her mother about it and telling her that I would see her tomorrow morning, I bid farewell to the two of them and returned home. I was just got done putting away the dishes that I used for dinner when I heard the doorbell ring. I open the door to find Lori standing there. "Mom is at work and she called me. She wants me to take you to the hospital so she can talk to you," said Lori. "Okay. Let me grab a jacket and my wallet," I told her. After I retrieved the items, turned off the lights, and armed the alarm, we drove off to the hospital. We talked about how our weekend went and about a couple of the other students in Calculus. When we arrived at the hospital, she told me her mom would call her cell phone to tell her when to pick me up. She also told me the most likely place to find her. I thanked her and went inside. When I found her, she escorted me to an empty exam room. She had me take off my jacket and sit up on the exam table. She then handed me a clipboard with the blood work forms on it. Marge had already filled out my name and address so I just needed to fill out the missing information. As I did that she got out the equipment to draw my blood. When I finished the form, she drew it. I started to reach for my wallet to pay for it when she stopped me and said that she was doing this to make sure that her daughter's boyfriend was free of STDs. I smiled at her and she explained that after I had left, she and Traci had a long talk about me. "Since I know that you respect privacy, I won't tell you the details of the conversation we had. I think it can be safe to say that my daughter's feelings are as strong as yours. You better keep your promise not to hurt her." I told her that I keep my promises. She stared at me for a moment and nodded. I thanked her and left. Lori was waiting for me outside through the sliding glass doors. When I got into the car, she told me that she had not even left the parking lot, figuring that it would be quicker to wait here instead of leaving and coming back. I thanked her for the ride and wondered if it would be possible to swing by a supermarket before going home. She said sure, that there was some stuff that she had wanted to pick up as well. We stopped by an Albertsons that was between the hospital and home. Lori and I did our shopping together and I was able to find out what Traci enjoyed eating. She was amused when picked up the staples I would need to prepare them. I also found out what Marge and her liked and bought that as well. I said that since we seem to be alternating eating at each other houses that I should at least cook stuff that the family enjoys. To Lori's credit, she did not ask me what her mom and I talked about, and why it was done at the hospital. She helped me carry the shopping bags into the house. I thanked her and told her that I would see her in the morning. After I put away the groceries, I did my evening ritual and went to sleep. ------- Chapter 5 Traci practically leapt into my arms when she rushed out from her house Monday morning. I gave her a long tight hug and a quick peck on the lips. Lori chuckled at our antics and told us to get a room. When I got into the backseat of Lori's car, Traci crawled in beside me. Traci rapidly said, "Mom told me that you stopped by yesterday to ask her permission to date me! She wanted to know what I thought about you so I told her what a great guy you were. We talked for like an hour about you. After we were done talking, she said that she would give you permission! I tried to call you around 8:00 last night, but you didn't answer. Where were you?" "8:00? I was actually seeing two very beautiful and sexy women." I saw Lori blush slightly in the review mirror and luckily there was not much room for Traci to throw much of a punch. I decided to play it safe and after she landed the first blow on my shoulder, I pulled her in for a very tender kiss. When she pulled away, she gave me one of her fake pouts and said I was being a jerk. "As you wish." That statement caused a grin from the young girl. We held hands until Lori pulled into the school parking lot. After we got out of the car, we rejoined hands and I escorted her to her locker. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her I would see her at band. "Oh, I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you. I have to miss band today. Mom said that she had made a doctor's appointment. I don't know why, but I think I should be back by lunchtime." "Well, if I don't make it back in time for lunch, it will give me an opportunity to flirt with Michelle." This time I dodged her punch and went back to my locker. When I got there, I ran into Fran. She said she had seen Traci and me holding hands this morning. I said yup, Traci was my girlfriend now, but that did not mean that she did not have to stop wearing mini-skirts. I could still look, but not touch. Since I was squatting down at my locker, she gave me a playful kick in the butt. Chuck had walked up to hear that last comment and told me that when Fran did start too wear mini-skirts that he wanted to switch lockers with me. Fran gave him a boot to the ass. I told Chuck that I had better not because that would be promoting incest. The three of us had a good laugh over our exchanges and then we went our separate ways. At lunch, Traci was at the usual table with her friends. When I arrived, she stood up and gave me a long kiss that drew some comments from the girls. When we sat down, she and I were holding hands. I could detect a little jealousy from Michelle but she seemed happy for us. Traci told me to guess why her mom took her to see a doctor. "I am guessing that the doctor was a gynecologist and the reason why was so you could get birth control pills." Rose almost blew her milk out her nose when she heard that and Traci demanded to know how I knew that. "I told your mom that I wanted to ravish her baby daughter. That I wanted to have sex with her in every position known to man, and even invent a couple that never been done before. I said that if she did not want to be a grandmother that she better make sure she had her baby girl on the pill." I made sure to hold her hand tightly to prevent her from hitting me with it, but she just used her other hand instead. My comment and Traci's reaction caused the other three girls to laugh hard. I don't know how much of the blush was caused by embarrassment or excitement over what I said. "You look sexy when you blush," I whispered softly into her ear and gave her cheek a kiss. I met up with Traci again at the Dance studio. We were going to cover ballet for the next three weeks and I had made sure to bring the right apparel. We mostly went over barre work and did some floor exercises. I think Traci did not like the attention I received from the other girls in the class over my tights and leotard. After dance, we walked hand in hand to water polo practice. Traci seemed to pick up the change of my demeanor right away when we got into the pool. Thursday would be our first game and it was against an out of conference team. We had to work on different set plays and as well as working well with each other. Since I was in the hole position, I had to know when and where to pass to my teammates when they drove towards the goal. Some preferred it high while others low. It wasn't until practice was over that I showed my affections to Traci. She took it in stride and knew that it was important that our feelings for each other should not transfer into the water. We did our homework at her house that evening and she seemed to put a lot more effort into getting it done early so she could concentrate on me. After dinner, we sat on the couch cuddling and exchanging small kisses. The small kisses gradually grew to longer ones. When her mom arrived home we stopped kissing, but we still sat next to each other, my arm around her shoulder. Her mom smiled at us and joined us in the living room. We watched some television and when her mother got up to go to bed, I got up to leave as well. Marge insisted that I could stay longer but I told her that if I was left alone with her baby girl, I might ravish her. Marge caught my wink at her when I said that and saw Traci blush so she replied that was okay since Lori was over at the computer. Lori said that if I ravished her little sister, then I would have to ravish her as well. We all chuckled at Traci's reaction and I bid goodnight to everybody and went home. The next few days were pretty much the same. We alternated which house we ate at and on Wednesday, Marge came over to eat dinner with us. Since I was told before hand that she would be coming, I had made sure to prepare the food that Lori told me that was her favorite. While we were eating, Marge pointed out these were all her favorites. I told her that I had to make sure I kept my future mother-in-law happy. That comment brought laughs from everybody, but I did see a slight flush creep up on her. After dinner, Lori used my laptop to surf the web while Traci, Marge and I went to the living room to watch some television. I suggested we could watch the sumo tournament that the DVR had recorded earlier in the day and they agreed. While we watched it, I explained the rules and different techniques used as well as what the different terms that were used meant. Lori even joined us for a little while. I asked Lori if she had talked to her mom about the wireless card or running Ethernet cable. She said no that she had forgotten. I then explained to Marge about my idea tapping their computer into my high-speed connection. Lori told her that they would be able to drop their current ISP and it would be no additional cost for me. Marge said that if I could install the cable without there being any signs of it, then I could do that. If not, we could try the card. I told her I could get the supplies and do it on Sunday. I also suggested that we could always put in gate that separated our backyards. She said she would have to give that one some thought. After we were done watching sumo, Marge decided she should head back home. I also suggested that we call it an early night since we would be having a game tomorrow. Traci reluctantly agreed and the three of them, plus my laptop, went back to their house. I did my evening routine and climbed into bed. Besides reviewing the day's events, I also went over the plays that I would need to know for tomorrow. ------- Thursday's game was an easy victory. I was able to score quickly a couple of times because when the ball would be tossed into me, the guy guarding me would go after the ball in my right hand. A forward would drive on my right side, causing the goalie to shift to cover that direction I would then grab the ball with my left hand shoot backwards into the upper corner away from the goalie. After the second time, the goalie stopped cheating over to one side and was forced to stay in the middle. Fran was also very effective and we won 5 to 1. After our game, we watched the Varsity play after we had showered and changed to our street clothes. Their game had a faster pace, but they won as well, 9 to 7. Afterwards, the team decided to go to In-and-Out to celebrate our victory. Since Lori was there to cheer the Varsity team, she gave us a ride there. Chuck had stopped by to root for us so Fran and he also rode over with us. Chuck rode up front in the passenger seat and I ended up in back between Fran and Traci. I said I could skip the hamburgers and enjoy the sandwich that was in the back seat. That earned an elbow from Traci. Chuck said he should switch seats with me so that it would be a dark meat sandwich. That earned him a slap on the head from his twin who was sitting directly behind him. When we got there, I was surprised how simple their menu was. Just Hamburger, Cheeseburger, French Fries, Shakes, Sodas, and something called a Double-Double, which were two slices of cheese and two slices of hamburger patties. Chuck told me to order the 4X4 and that I would not be disappointed. When I got my order, I found out that a 4X4 meant four slices of cheese and four hamburger patties. Chuck explained that there were different codes for different combinations. He said I could even find them on the web. I had not had much exposure too fast food, but I think I had found the best. I remembered an agent coming back from a mission raving about a place called White Castle, but I doubted it tasted as good as In-and-Out. We hung out there for a while and celebrated our win. Chuck called his mother for a ride and he and Fran went home, she lived a couple of houses down from him. Lori, Traci, and I went back to their place. Lori had called home to inform her mother that we would be eating with the team so she did not have to worry about cooking us dinner. When we arrived, we dove into our homework. I spent most of my time helping Lori with our Calculus assignment. After we were done, Marge served us an apple pie she had baked in the afternoon. She topped it off each slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It was delicious and all of us told her so. It was when I was helping Marge in the kitchen with the dishes that she informed me that I had a clean bill of health. When we joined the girls in the living room, we started talking about politics. I was relieved to discover that the Caspar family was progressive like I was. I told Traci that I would have to break up with her if she ever voted for the same party that was currently in office. She gave a small pout just over the idea of me breaking up with her so I gave her quick kiss. We watched some shows on network television and when the news came on, I said goodnight to everybody and went home. ------- Friday's halftime show did not have any major disasters but our football team lost, 17-15. We all went back to the band room to put away our instruments and change out of our band uniforms into our street clothes. I met Traci outside the classroom the female band members were using to change. She actually was wearing a different outfit than one she had arrived in; it was a black dress with a loose skirt that came to just above her knees. I escorted her to the gymnasium where the after game dance was being held. It was pretty dark inside, but we found Michelle, Rose, and Pollyanna. We all danced as a group but when the first slow song came on the three others went off to leave Traci and me to dance together. As I held her close, I could feel her rapid heart beat from the exertion she had put out over the past couple of songs. She had her head on my shoulder and we rocked back and forth to the tempo. My left hand slowly traveled around her lower back. She let out a slight gasp as it came to rest on her right ass cheek and was squeezed gently. I felt her press her lower body closer to mine where she gasped a little louder this time when she felt how hard I was for her. She hesitated for a moment before she started to grind into me, her pert breasts crushed against my chest. We kept that up until the song ended. The next two songs were fast ones and the three girls joined us. When a slow song came on I asked Michelle if I could dance with her. She looked surprised, but checked with Traci to make sure. Traci looked amused and nodded. She then went off with Pollyanna and Rose. I did not dance as close to Michelle as I did with Traci and I made sure not to let my hands wander to far south. When the dance was over I thanked Michelle. I went to get a drink of water from the fountain and use the restroom while the four girls danced together. I arrived back in time for a slow song to start up again. This time I asked Rose to dance and she did not even bother checking with Traci. As I pulled Rose close to me, I caught Pollyanna's eyes and winked at her. I danced the same way with Rose as I did with Michelle. Halfway through the song, I told Rose just loud enough so that only she could hear me that it was a shame that she and Pollyanna could not be dancing together. She nodded into my shoulder. When it was over, I thanked her. When the fourth slow song came on, Pollyanna did not even bother for me to ask her to dance. She stepped up into my arms and rested her head on my shoulder. I brought my arms around her and we rocked back and forth to the music. I told Pollyanna the same thing I had Rose, and suggested that tomorrow maybe they could dance together when they came over. She did not verbally respond, but pulled me a little bit closer. After the dance was over, I saw that she seemed a little teary so I kissed her forehead. She gave me a little smile and went off to powder her nose. Well, as with all women, when one needs to go, they all go. I took their absence to circulate. I ran into Mike, David, Chuck and Fran. I asked Chuck why wasn't he wasn't out dancing with his sister. He said his sister doesn't let him dance the slow songs. Fran said she did not care for where Chuck wanted to rest his head. After we had a good chuckle, I asked Mike, David, and Chuck if they were free on Sunday. They replied they should be and I invited them over to my house to discuss anime. Chuck said he would call Bill and John tomorrow to see if they were free as well. I told them where I lived and that 2:00 would be a good time to swing by since I had a project to take care of in the morning. The next song was a fast song so they migrated back out onto the dance floor and danced. A couple minutes later the girls returned and we also went back to dancing. When the next slow song came on, we all decided to leave. The cool air was very pleasant compared to the hot and murky gym. The five of us walked to Traci's locker to retrieve the clothes she had worn to school. We chatted about a wide range of subjects and when I asked what I should make for lunch tomorrow, I received four different requests. We all laughed and I said I guess I'll just have to come up with something different. When we got back to the front of the school, we hung out there until Michelle's mother came to pick up her, Pollyanna and Rose. Traci and I walked home hand in hand. It started to get a little bit chilly so I slipped off my jacket and put it on over her shoulders. When we arrived to her house, she invited me in. A look of disappointment crossed Traci's face when we discovered Marge was in the living room. We sat down on the couch and talked with her. Marge wanted to know how the day went so Traci filled her in. I had rested my hand on Traci's knee and soon she grew distracted as my thumb drew little circles on her exposed skin. Marge saw what I was doing and smiled slightly. When Traci finished her tale, I told the ladies that I had better head back home since I had to make lunch for four beautiful young ladies tomorrow. When I then added that I also had to make lunch for Traci and her friends, I received a playful punch. Marge laughed at our antics and headed off to her bedroom. Traci walked me to the door. "I wish mom wasn't home. I wanted to show you how much I appreciated the way you treated my friends tonight. Instead of just dancing the slow songs with your girlfriend, you made sure to dance just one song with each of us. It took me a moment to realize you did not want my friends to be left out. Instead of feeling jealous, I felt closer to you." I took her into my arms, kissed her softly, and said, "Traci, you don't need to show your appreciation to me. I can feel it feel it when I look into your eyes. Your friends are special to you so they are special to me. Plus, I like dancing with sexy girls." I made sure to hold her tightly when I said that last part to avoid any more bruises. Instead she stuck her tongue out at me so I just wrapped my lips around it and we began to kiss passionately. I reached down and squeezed her left ass cheek. She moaned softly and I broke the kiss. "Need to keep things balanced," I said referring to my most recent grope. She smiled at me and took my right hand. She slowly raised it up to her breast. Just before my hand made contact with her, she used it to hit myself on the shoulder. "Maybe next time you might think before you tell me how sexy my friends are," she said grinning. I chuckled and kissed her on the nose. When I got home, I went through the nightly ritual. When I was finished, it was just past midnight. I grabbed my pack of Camels from the bedroom and went to the living room to watch sumo. I was on my second cigarette when the phone rang. It was Rose and she was crying. She asked if she could come over right now and I told her of course. She said she would be there in a half hour and hung up. Since I had not put on anything after my bath, I thought it would be wise to be wearing something when she arrived. After I threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, I returned to the living room and continued watching sumo. I heard a tentative knock at the door and I immediately answered it. Rose's eyes were puffy and red. Tear streaks were evident on her face as well as the fading impression of a hand slap. I pulled her into a tight embrace and she began to sob. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together enough and began to pull away. I released her and guided her into the living room. After bringing her a glass of water, I sat down next to her. I had a good idea of what might have happened. "Mom kicked me out of the house. When I got home tonight, my mom was standing in the doorway. She confronted me with a love letter that Pollyanna had written me. She demanded to know who wrote it but I refused to tell her. She said that my lifestyle was wicked and that I needed to repent. She was not going to let a sinner like me enter her house. When I tried to get into the house to get my things, she slapped me and told me I could just go and live with my lover. She called me a slut and then slammed the door in my face. Michelle's mom had seen my mom at the doorway so she had already driven off. I didn't know where else to go. For some reason, you seemed to know about Pollyanna and me so I thought I could come here." Smiling softly I said, "I would have to be blind not to see the love that you two seem to share. I guess others don't see it because they don't expect two people of the same sex to feel that way. I don't think it is a sin for two people to express their feelings. I think the bigger sin is to pretend to be something that your not." Tears started to fall from her eyes again so I pulled her in a hug and rocked back and forth. She kept apologizing for acting this way and I told her to forget about it. When she finally finished, I retrieved a sweatshirt and some sweatpants. I handed them to her and said she could them to sleep in. I told her she was free to sleep in any of the rooms. She said that there was a room upstairs that she liked so I escorted her to it. After bidding her goodnight, I went downstairs to shut everything down. I left a couple of the lights on just in case she needed to get around the house. I then stripped down and went to sleep. ------- Chapter 6 I awoke to a very soft knock at my bedroom door. My internal clock told me that I had only been sleeping for about an hour. After a deep yarn, I told Rose to come in. "Were you sleeping?" she asked nervously. I replied, "Yeah, but it's all right. The light switch is to your right." "I'm sorry; I'll let you get back to sleep." "Don't be silly. How could I get back to sleep if I think you have something on your mind," I said as I rolled over and turned on the lamp that was beside my bed. Her hair was wet and she was wearing the sweats I had lent her. Her face no longer showed any traces of the turmoil she had gone through a couple hours ago. Even from the distance from the bed to the doorway, I could still see sadness in her eyes. I could also see from her body language she was torn between entering and fleeing the room. She timidly approached the bed and sat down on the foot of it. She sat there for a minute, trying to work up the courage to say what was on her mind. I just looked at her and gave her a reinsuring smile. When she finally spoke, I had to strain my ears to hear her. "Would you mind holding me again?" I gave her a bigger smile and said, "Of course I wouldn't mind holding such a wonderful and caring person such as you. But before I could do that, you need to do me a favor." She hesitated before saying, "What?" "I need for you to grab a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt from my dresser. I am sure that Traci would understand me holding you, but might have a problem with me holding you while I was naked." A combination of surprise, shock, and amusement washed over her face and she quickly jumped to complete the task. I directed her to which drawers contained what items. She brought them to me and I slipped them on under the covers. I then scooted over and patted the spot where I had just been. She hesitated for a moment before drawing back the covers and joining me. I had her cross her arms across her chest and face away from me. When she did that, I wrapped my arms around hers and pulled her back into my chest. While I was not erect, I did keep my lower part of my body away from hers. I did not want to frighten her with inappropriate contact. Right now, she needed comfort. After a little while, I felt some of the tension leave her body. She told me that she had tried to get to sleep, but there was so much on her mind. I told her maybe I could help her work out some things and it might make it easier for her to get to sleep. First was where could she live. I told her that she was welcome to stay here for as long as she needed. She was worried about having stuff to wear. I said that a shopping trip to the mall was in order. When I mentioned tomorrow, she asked how she was going to explain to her friends why she was kicked out. I told her that I was pretty sure that if her friends could not accept her for who she was, then they were not her friends in the first place. She asked would she have to leave if Traci got upset and did not want her here. I told her that the Traci I knew would not get upset. She was also worried about paying for stuff like clothes and food. I told her as long as she was a guest in my house, she would not have to worry about that, within reason. I wasn't going to buy her a Gucci handbag or a diamond necklace. I couldn't see her smile, but I swore I could feel it. I also told her that if she was truly worried, she could always keep a ledger and pay me back later. She could always get a part time job when she reached sixteen on the condition that she kept her grades up. She said she could always drop out of school and start working now. "Actually, you can't. You are still a minor and have to attend school. In addition, I know that I said that you could stay here as long as you needed, but there is one condition. You must stay enrolled in high school and do the best you can in your classes." She said she understood. We also talked about some minor issues and with each answer; it seemed that she would get less tense. She finally drifted off to sleep. I soon followed after her. It was a little past 9:30 when the phone rung and woke us up. Since it was closer to Rose, she picked up the receiver and handed it to me. I thanked her and said hello. There was a slight pause before Traci asked whom was I thanking. "Oh, just a wonderful young woman that was sleeping with me. Would you like to talk to her?" I replied, looking at Rose. Surprise and then amusement crossed her face. Rose choose to get even with me by giggling exactly the same way that Fran does, a girl that Rose knew Traci was slightly jealous of. Traci's voice could have frozen the ninth plane of hell as she said no; she would be right over instead. She hung up before I could say goodbye. I handed the phone back to Rose and told her that I needed to get up and answer the door. I didn't even have my feet on the floor when I heard the doorbell start ringing. When I opened the door, Traci started to breeze right past me. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her deeply. We kissed for about ten seconds and she relaxed a little bit, but pushed me away. "Blah, you taste like cigarettes. If you think some awful tasting kiss will keep me from some hussy in your bed, your sorely mistaken," she said, but at least she was not moving to the bedroom. "No, I don't. Sorry about not brushing my teeth. I didn't get a chance to do that yet. I need to tell you a few things before you go in there." I explained to her the events of last night, omitting the reason why Rose's mother kicked her out. She of course picked up on that and wanted to know, but I told her that she would need to talk to Rose. I also told Traci that I believed she possessed a big heart and that I doubted I would be disappointed in her reaction. Before she could pester me with more questions, I took her hand and brought her back to the bedroom. When we got there, Rose was sitting up in the bed, her knees brought up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The fear and worry that had washed away hours ago was back with a vengeance. I told the two girls that I would let them talk in private and was going to make a light breakfast. I figured some scrambled eggs and toast would hold us over until lunch. When the girls had not come to the kitchen, I kept the eggs on a low heat and started doing the prep work for lunch. I had decided on the menu last night and while four separate entrees was a great deal of work, it would be well worth it. Almost a half hour had gone by from when I escorted Traci to the bedroom when the girls showed up into the kitchen. Traci came up to me, gave me a playful punch, and said, "I have forgiven Rose for sleeping with you, but I have not forgiven you for sleeping with Rose. I wanted to be the first girl you slept with." I smiled at her and gave her a tender kiss. I did not want to lie to her and tell her that Rose was by far not the first person I slept with. It was odd; it had been engraved into me how to lie effortlessly without regret or remorse. For some reason, I found it difficult to do that with Traci. Never in my life had I ever felt guilt, even after some of the stuff I had done on my training missions. Now, I understood what that emotion felt like. Being around Traci opened me up to all types of new feelings, a majority of them positive, but a few negative as well. When I broke the kiss, she demanded the next time I kissed her on the lips, I had better of brushed my teeth. I told her that she had another set of lips that I could kiss that she wouldn't taste my breath. Rose giggled, this time normally, at Traci's reaction and my quick dash from the kitchen. I abbreviated my morning routine to smoking half a Camel, emptying my bladder, and brushing my teeth. I decided to wear a pair of jeans and a polo shirt since I knew we would be heading to the mall after lunch. When I got back to the kitchen, Traci was still red from my comment, but allowed me to give her a probing kiss to prove my mouth was fresh. I asked Rose if she wanted a kiss to see that I had brushed my teeth. I was still holding Traci to prevent her from hitting me so she ended up giving me a light kick in the shin. It was a good thing that Rose declined or I think Traci would not have been so light with the kick she would have given her. We ate the eggs and toast with a glass of juice. Rose insisted on taking care of the clean up so Traci helped me with the lunch. I was glad I went with making four different entrees because I received a kiss on the cheek from Traci as a reward. When Rose was done with the dishes, she joined us making the entrees. We chatted about mundane things until Traci asked how Rose knew my number. I had just presumed that Traci must have mentioned it to her but Rose said she just called information. I had presumed the number was private, but that answered the question of how the Green Party got a hold of the number. We were done with everything and it was still fifteen minutes before the other two girls were to arrive. I went back to the bedroom to retrieve my Camels. When the girls saw that, they told me I had to smoke in the backyard. Forced out of my own home, I knew it was an argument I could not win. Taught that retreat was a valid option when faced with certain doom, I did. I chained smoke three cigarettes before I went back inside. Pollyanna and Traci were in the living room and Rose was nowhere to be seen. Traci said that Rose and Michelle went back to the master bedroom to talk. I went to an empty bathroom to rinse my mouth out with mouthwash and rejoined the girls in the living room. Since I was unsure how much information Rose had told Traci, I decided not to ask Pollyanna how she was handling it. When the two girls returned from bedroom, Pollyanna launched herself from the couch and ran into Rose's arms. From the reaction of the other two, I gathered that Rose did indeed fill in those details. After the two girls had stopped hugging, Pollyanna looked nervous and asked the three of us if we still liked her. That comment lead to a group hug as we assured her that she was dumb to even think such a thing. The two recently 'outed' girls were still a little nervous while we ate lunch, but the rest of us made sure to reassure them. Rose insisted on doing the dishes as a way repay my hospitality. After she refused my repeated insistences that she did not need to do stuff like that I said I should just buy her a sexy French maid outfit. That earned me a playful punch from Traci. When Pollyanna agreed that she wanted to see that, she got one from Rose. We all had a nice chuckle and I brought up the task of getting to the mall, it was Michelle that suggested she could ask her mom to drive us there since she owned a minivan. Michelle checked with Rose and Pollyanna if it was okay if she told her mom why Rose was kicked out. Rose did not mind, but Pollyanna did not want anybody outside of us knowing about her until she talked to her parents. She was still unsure if she could tell them or not. Michelle nodded and called her mom. I grabbed my keys, wallet, checkbook, and slipped on my Birkenstocks while Michelle talked to her mom. When I returned, I asked if we needed to go next door and Michelle said that it was not necessary, her mom knew that we were over here. Her mom was a little concerned at first that I lived alone, but she trusted her daughter's judgment. Michelle was keeping an eye out for her mom's minivan and she informed us when pulled up in front of the house. The girls rushed out and as I turn on the alarm, I made a mental note to tell Rose the formula to figure out the right code to disarm it. When I got into the minivan, I introduced myself to Mrs. Weller and thanked her for helping us. She told me I could call her Jean and she apologized to Rose for not making sure she got into the house last night and this was small penance for that. She also told Rose that she was always welcomed at her house and could stay there if she needed to. Rose was visibly moved by Jean's compassion. Jean moved the topic of conversation to me and I gave her the standard background. I noticed that the uneasy feelings that I had when I lied to Traci were not present when I told them to Jean. She said that with my classes and extracurricular activities that it must be difficult to take care of housework. I said that it was, but now that I had a sexy live-in maid, it should be easier. That earned an elbow from Traci and a dope slap from Rose. Jean chuckled at the joke and the antics that it provoked. Jean was going to just drop us off and pick us up later when I insisted she join us. She didn't want to intrude. I told her that it would not be an intrusion and that since I was already shopping with four beautiful ladies, another beautiful lady would make it even better. She blushed slightly at that remark and I think it intrigued her enough to tag along. The mall was located fifteen miles south of Central City in a town that had twice the population. It was two stories tall and was anchored by three major stores. It pretty much formed the letter 'T'. We started at one of the major stores, Sears, and worked our way through. I had read that guys don't like to shop as much as girls do, but I wasn't one of them. Maybe it was because I had not been shopping before, but I found it most enjoyable. The girls didn't even mind me stopping to look in the men's clothing stores. They even made suggestions on possible wardrobe additions, but we made sure we stuck with the main mission objective. Jean wanted to help pay for some of the clothes, but I told her that I would take care of it. I explained that Rose had refused any charity and was insistent that she would pay me back. When the girls were busy trying on some outfits, I suggested to Jean that she might be able to get away with an early Christmas or Birthday present. She smiled and agreed, saying she had all of the girl's birthdays written down at home. I asked her if she could pass that information on to me and she said she would. While I was able to find a place to make a couple copies of the house key, the mall was lacking on school supplies so we hit an office superstore before returning home. When Michelle mentioned that her father was out of town, I insisted that Jean eat with us. It took a little bit, but everybody convinced her to join us. I gave her the nickel tour while the girls took Rose's purchases up to her room. When they came back down, Rose and Traci announced that they would take care of dinner tonight. The other two girls went outside to use the hot tub while Jean and I sat in the living room and chatted. When dinner was ready, I went out to tell Pollyanna and Michelle. We waited until they changed and joined us at the table before we ate. It was halfway through dinner when Rose realized that some of her schoolbooks were back at her house. I said that we could always buy new textbooks but Jean suggested that she could go over there and see if she could retrieve them. After dinner was over, Jean left to go do that and again, Rose and Traci insisted on clean up duty but this time Pollyanna joined them. When Traci caught Pollyanna and Rose sharing a quick kiss, she rolled her eyes and told them to get a room. Rose grinned and said okay, took Pollyanna's hand, and went upstairs. The day had been rather hectic and the two of them did not have much time alone. When Jean returned, she had a box with her and was visibility upset. Michelle retrieved the two girls from upstairs and we all went into the living room. "That goddamn fucking cunt!" exclaimed Jean. Michelle was shocked at her mom's choice of words. Jean went on to explain that Mrs. Goodrich had already boxed up Rose's stuff and had said that she never wanted to see her daughter again unless she repented from her sins. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with such a tainted soul and that she no longer had a daughter. Jean said that she had to suppress the urge to 'deck the bitch' and decided to walk away instead. Rose was sadden by Jean's account of what had happen, but broke into tears when she discovered that her precious letters were not in the box. Jean did not seem surprised when Pollyanna had wrapped her arms around Rose to comfort her. As I said, it was not hard to tell that those two girls had feelings for each other. I wouldn't be surprised if Jean knew how her own daughter felt about Traci. To lift everybody's spirits, I suggested we could put some music on and go use the hot tub. Even Jean agreed that was a good idea. Everybody thought it odd that of the dozen albums I had (excluding anime soundtracks), that eleven were of Prince. The twelfth was the London Cast version of 'Jesus Christ, Superstar'. They found a radio station that they all liked and played it over the outdoor intercom. When I went to change into my swim trunks, I called next door and invited Lori and Marge to join us and that the front door was unlocked and that they should just let themselves in. When I went out the backyard, the girls were already there in their swimsuits. I think Michelle almost fainted when she saw her mom strip and get into the hot tub in her bra and panties. The hot tub was made for twelve and Jean was amused when she saw Pollyanna and Rose were sitting apart. She suggested that they should sit together like Traci and I. It was hard to tell if they blushed since their faces had already started to turn red from the heat of the water. Five minutes after we had got into the tub, Marge and Lori came out wearing robes. They shed the robes and joined us. I asked Marge and Jean if they would like a glass of wine. Jean declined at first saying that she would have to drive home tonight. I told her that Michelle and she were welcome to stay over. I then added I would even wait until the girls were asleep before joining her. This time instead of getting an elbow or punch from Traci, I received a titty twister. She squealed and moved away when I said 'payback's a bitch' and started to reach for her breast. Everybody laughed and Jean agreed to my offer. I brought back two bottles of wine, a red and a white, two wine glasses, and sodas for the rest of us. When Jean asked if I drank I said that in the past I would have a glass or two with dinner, but because of the Athletic Code I had to give that up. Traci pointed out that I still smoked. I told her to hush up, that she was spoiling the perfect image that I was trying to present to possible mother in laws. Traci was still keeping her distance from me, afraid about my promise of payback so Michelle was the one who elbowed me. Jean asked Traci how she could put up with such a flirt. Traci answered that I was all bark and no bite. I made note what to do to her next time she came within distance. After a while, we decided to migrate back inside. Traci helped me cover the spa and everybody turned around to her yelp after I had grabbed Traci from behind and gave her shoulder a playful nip. They laughed as Traci chased me around for a little bit before I let her catch me. I let her give me a couple of light punches before I reminded her that I still owed her a titty twister, which led to me chasing her. She dove into the pool to escape my reach and refused to get out until I promised not to do that to her. I told her that I would not promise that and went inside with everybody else. Traci followed a few minutes later. Retrieving a bathrobe for Jean, I told her she was welcomed to use the clothes dryer. Michelle turned red when Jean replied that she has gone 'commando' in the past and could do it again. After everybody had changed, we gathered in the living room to watch a movie. Traci suggested that since Michelle and Jean were staying over, that they should just have a slumber party. Pollyanna had to call her parents and Jean talked to them to assure them that an adult was present. Marge was working the late shift tomorrow so she was going to stay over as well. Marge, Lori, and Traci went back over to their house to retrieve some pajamas and sleeping bags. Pollyanna helped me carry a couple of mattresses from the bedrooms and we set them up the living room. I made a mental note that if this was going to be a habit that buying some futons would be in order. I was going to get some extra tee shirts and sweat pants for Pollyanna, Michelle, and Jean when the Caspars returned with extra pajamas. Traci had insisted that I pick up a set of pajamas while we were at the mall because Rose had filed her in on my usual sleeping condition. I changed into them and when I returned, Traci blushed and told me to go back and wear sweatpants instead. The girls booed her, even the adults got into the act. The material was rather lightweight and since I don't wear underwear, my manhood was rather obvious. I returned to the living room with everybody huddled together whispering and giggling. I noticed quite a few glances to see how well the sweat pants hid my endowment. Michelle asked her mom if she could drink some wine and was told that she could. Lori and Traci asked their mom and I reminded them about the Athletic Code and they stuck their tongues out at me. Marge gave in and told them they could have one glass. Rose looked at me and I told her under my roof, she was free to do whatever she wanted, as long as she kept her grades up. She grinned and thanked me. Pollyanna declined however so after I got glasses for everybody, I filled her and mine with non-alcoholic sparkling cider. When all of the glasses were filled, I made a toast. "I want us to raise our glasses to many things. To friendship, to tolerance, to understanding, to making new friends, and to celebrate the one week anniversary that Traci slept with me." The mothers looked a little surprised with that last comment until they were filled in on how Traci fell asleep while leaning against me. Traci was bright red, but we all lifted our glasses, and drank. I then excused myself and said I was going to be in the backyard for a little while. I had just lit up when Jean joined me. I offered her one and she accepted. I lit it for her and we sat back in some lawn chairs. "Marge had told me that you are a very unique fifteen-year-old. From what I have seen today, I would have to agree. I don't know whether to trust you or fear you," said Jean. I shrugged and said, "I am just a very observant guy and try to treat others as I wish to be treated." We chatted awhile about Rose and her situation with her mother. I noticed Jean very carefully hinted to the fact that she was aware of her own daughter's sexuality. I replied that I couldn't understand why Traci had not noticed it. She seemed surprised that I wasn't jealous. I told her that jealousy was just insecurity and that if people would just be open and honest then there would be none. We smoked a couple more cigarettes before rejoining the party. They were painting each other's toes and when I came back after brushing my teeth, they insisted that they do mine. I told them that I play flute in the band, I took dance, and I seem to be the only guy on the water polo team that shaves so if I show up at school with painted toenails, I think it would pretty much seal the label of being a 'fruitcake'. Only Traci seemed to get the reference of shaving since she had seen me naked. She whispered something to Lori and she gasped and whispered it to Michelle. It went around to all of the young girls and I felt their stares on a certain part of my anatomy. No one seemed braved enough to mention it to an adult but Marge and Jean kept demanding to know what they were talking about. Marge asked me if I knew what they were whispering. "I would guess it would be the fact that I shave my pubic hair." "And how would my daughter know that?" Marge asked looking back at forth at Traci and me, forcing herself to keep a straight face. Traci hurriedly told her the story about last week and her accidentally walking in on me while I was changing. When Jean asked me why I did it, you could have heard a pin drop on the shag carpet. I replied, "So my partner doesn't get hair in their teeth when they perform fellatio." There was complete silence for about five seconds before Jean started belly laughing. Marge joined her while their daughters started at their mothers. The girls sat their stunned as the adults and I discussed the finer points of fellatio and cunnilingus. Pollyanna surprised us when she worked up enough nerve to contribute to the conversation about what she liked to do. Rose was so embarrassed; she hid her face under a pillow. I gathered somebody must have filled in Marge because she asked Rose if she enjoyed what Pollyanna had said. Pollyanna felt empowered but soon fell out of the conversation when it switched to anal sex. Lori surprised her mother when she asked about bondage. I however was not surprised since I had seen some of the websites she had accessed on my laptop. Lori seemed to enjoy a story by an author called Fantasy Stories that dealt with BDSM. I don't know when exactly the conversation switched from trying to embarrass the girls to a frank discussion of every aspect of sexuality. Marge surprised her daughters further when she alluded to the fact that her and her late husband had some experience with Dominance/Submission, but did grow slightly concerned when I mentioned that I might one day turn the basement into a dungeon. I reminded her of the conversation that we had had. Traci spoke up for the first time since explaining to her mom about walking in on me and wanted to know about the conversation and I reminded her it was between her mother and me. Jean commented that I must have had lots of experience to which I replied practice makes perfect, but I refused to give specific details about past encounters since I didn't kiss and tell. I think Michelle shocked everybody when she said it wasn't fair that Traci was the only one to see me. I pointed out that Traci was my girlfriend; but Michelle countered that when it happened Traci wasn't officially my girlfriend until the next day. I shrugged and stood up. When I reached to pull down my sweats, a pillow thrown by Traci hit me. The others told Traci to leave me alone and they wanted to see it. I pulled down my sweats and let them have a good look. It had taken a great deal of effort to keep my self from growing erect with the conversation we were having, but I was still semi-hard. The look on the faces of all the ladies caused me to become fully erect; it was Marge's subconscious licking of her lips did it. I broke the reverie when I asked if it was long enough. I had meant exposing myself, but I think a couple of the girls misunderstood my question. I know Traci did because she muttered too long. I pulled up my sweatpants, and sat back down, but it took a little while for the tent in my pants to loose its mast. Marge asked how it got to the point that she ended up looking at her daughter's boyfriend's cock. I pointed out it was because they had wanted to paint my toenails. This brought some giggles and I thought maybe now would be a good time to get some sleep. I got more than one pillow thrown at me when I said my door was always open if anybody wanted me to give some one-on-one lessons. As I retreated to my room, nobody seemed to make a big deal that Rose and Pollyanna went upstairs. There was a soft knock on the door and I opened it to find Traci there. She said her mother told her that a proper girlfriend would at least kiss her boyfriend goodnight. I could tell that the conversation had worked her up, but there was fear in her eyes. I leaned in and kissed her, only our lips touching each other. She nervously told me that her sister had said she better take care of that monster in my pants or it might come out in the middle of the night and attack them all. Smiling, I told her she can tell the rest of them that no monster will be coming out tonight. I gave her another kiss and told her goodnight. She said goodnight and went back to the living room. It took a little bit longer for me to fall asleep, but I finally did manage to. ------- Chapter 7 When I woke up Sunday morning, I skipped brushing my teeth from the routine. I planned to smoke a few more cigarettes before I kissed anybody. When I passed through the living room, I noticed the trio of girls sleeping and their moms opening up some of the windows, trying to air out an unmistakable odor. When I saw them noticed me I made sure to inhale deeply and grin at them. I then paraphrased a war movie that I had watched a few days ago and said, "I love the smell of pussy in the morning." Some red creped into their cheeks and they turned away. I went into the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle. I also made a pot of coffee, not knowing how many might want that instead of tea. I had just finished the cooking sausage links to go with the bacon and eggs I had already made when Rose came into the kitchen. She began to set the dining room table when Traci came in to assist her. By that time the food was on the table, everybody was awake and sitting there. Breakfast was quiet that morning with a few requests to pass food. I tried to start a couple of conversations but they ended rather quickly. When everybody finished eating, I asked everyone to remain seated and that I had something to say. "I want to apologize to each of you. I guess I went too far last night and I'm a blödes arschloch. I grew up in an environment where sexuality was freely expressed and talked about. From everyone's reactions this morning, I realized I went too far and I hope you can forgive me." At least that got them to open up more. They were quick to apologize to me and tell me it was not my fault. Stuff like guilt and repression were tossed about. After a while, it seemed that some order of familiarly had returned, all be it, not quite the same level as it was before last night's gabfest. Rose told us to move the conversation along so she could clean up. Pollyanna and Traci assisted her as the rest of us went out into the backyard. Jean and I lit up and that earned her a disappointing look from her daughter. I received the same look when Traci came outside. When she reminded me that I could not kiss her on the lips until I brushed my teeth, I told her I would rather kiss her other lips anyway. I think Traci was most embarrassed at all when she saw her mother laughing at us. Marge asked me if I smoked after sex. When I told her yes, she grinned and told me then I was going too fast. It took a few seconds for everyone to get the joke and join in the laugher. That was the one thing that was missing from breakfast earlier was the laugher. I was glad to see it return. The girls went in to put on their swimsuits and the ladies and I talked about mundane things. When the conversation turned to politics, Jean seemed surprised how well informed I was of the issues. I told her that in two and a half years I would have right to vote and I planned to exercise it. The only thing worst than not voting is voting for something you know nothing about. I mentioned that a local AM station broadcasted Air America and they might want to check it out. They said they would try giving it a shot and I did warn them that a few of the hosts can be rather extreme, but overall, they brought up some interesting points. It was around 11:00 when Jean said she and Michelle had better head back home, but I convinced them to stay for lunch and we all enjoyed some fried chicken and mashed potatoes that Rose had cooked. Jean and Michelle were headed out to their car when Pollyanna's mom drove up. I introduced myself to her and asked her if she would like to come in for some coffee, but Mrs. Huntington declined saying she had some errands to run. She thanked me for the offer and for hosting her daughter last night. After they left, Marge and Lori came out carrying the sleeping bags and pajamas that they had brought over the previous day. I told Lori that I would have to put off the wiring project until later but that she could still borrow my laptop to read those stories. Lori grew embarrassed and when Marge asked what stories, I suggest Lori show them to her and maybe the two of them could talk about it. The guys started to arrive a little past 1:00 and everybody that was in the club was at the house by a quarter past. No one was surprised to see Traci there since they knew she was my girlfriend, but the presence of Rose mystified them. I explained that Rose was my live-in maid and she smiled at that. She actually played the role as the maid by bringing the guys drinks and snacks. I discovered I was the envy of the group because I had more anime and manga titles than all of them. Bill and Dave both had more models than I did however. I discussed the idea of actually forming a fansubbing group and what we would need to do it. I found a raw episode that I had downloaded over the past week that they all were interested in seeing so we watched it with me doing the translating for them. We spent about four hours hanging out talking about anime and what not. They all had to head back home and Mike was the last to leave at 5:30. Rose was unsure if the guys were going to be staying or not so she had cooked a frozen lasagna. Traci, Rose, and I were able to put away a good portion of it before the rest was put into the fridge for leftovers. Since Traci and I did not have time on Friday to do our homework, the three of us did it together after dinner. I finished mine rather quickly so I went outside to smoke the last of my weekend cigarettes. When I came back inside, Traci reminded me to brush my teeth. "As you wish", I replied. When I returned, I went to the living room to watch the sumo that I had missed the past couple of days. Traci came in and snuggled up to me. She asked how long it lasted. I told her that there were six tournaments a year and each one lasted fifteen days. When Rose was done with her homework, she joined us in the living room and sat in one of the chairs. When I motioned to the vacant spot next to me on the couch, Rose looked at Traci for conformation. When Traci nodded, Rose snuggled up to me, but not as closely as Traci was. I ended up skipping through most of the tournament only watching the matches that I was interested in. There were four wresters I liked to keep track of; Roho who was from Russia, Kokkai who was from Georgia, Kotooshu who was from Bulgia, and Takamisakari who was a Japanese native. Everybody, myself included, loved how Takamisakari would psyche himself up before a match. He was by far the most popular man in sumo, even more popular than the only Yokozuna, Asahoryu. I mentioned that it would be cool to see a tournament in person and that led to a conversation about traveling to other countries. After I had caught up on the sumo, we found a movie to watch and when Rose left to use the bathroom, Traci used that opportunity to check to see if I had brushed my teeth like she requested. I think she was pleased with the result. The previous evening's discussion seemed to embolden her because she guided my hands up to her breasts. Rose must have seen us because she never came back from the bathroom. It seemed like the make out session lasted forever, but our tongues finally grew tired. "I love you," I told Traci while looking deep into her eyes. Our tongues found renewed energy as she kissed me after she told me that she loved me to. When we broke our kiss, there were tears of joy running down her face. I kissed and licked them from cheeks. We ended up just holding each other until it was time for Traci to return home. I think part of her did not want to leave because of our declaration to each other and another part was fear about Rose being there. I told her she did not have to worry about Rose and that I was reasonably sure she would be sleeping in her own bed tonight. I also mentioned that I also had pajamas now. She told me that I had better wear sweatpants, heavy ones. I gave her a tender goodnight kiss and told her that we would meet her and Lori tomorrow morning. When I did my evening routine, I saw from the security log that my laptop was in use so I sent it a message, saying goodnight and enjoy the reading. A minute later, I got a message calling me a jerk, but there was a happy face after it. I also decided to head to Amazon and do a little shopping. There were several different French Maid outfits so I ordered half a dozen in different styles that would fit Rose. Since I was not in a rush, I chose the cheapest shipping option. I also found a six foot whip listed under the "Health and Personal Care" category. After making a mental note about that, I crawled into bed and feel asleep rather fast, because of the active day. ------- I awoke the next day before the alarm went off, did my morning ritual, and was greeted by the smell of breakfast cooking when I left my room. I found that Rose was already up and had prepared a rather large meal just for the two of us. "It looks delicious, Rose! However, I'm worried that if I eat too much, Traci might dup me for getting to fat." She gave me a grin and said, "Well, if that happens, I'll just have to pick you back up." I shot back, "Really! And what might your girlfriend have to say about that?" She just shrugged and replied "She'll just have to learn to share." Rose seemed to be back to where she was before her mom threw her out. Perhaps a little stronger now that others knew more about her. As Rose took care of the dishes, I went into the living room to watch the news programs. When she joined me, she did not believe it, at first, that I understood what all the foreign-language programs were saying. She knew that I understood Japanese, but not others. I fibbed a little and told her that I learned them when I was young and that I did not perfectly understand them. I noticed that I did feel a slight pang of guilt when I lied to Rose. It was the first time that I felt that when I lied to anybody else excluding Traci. When it came time to meet Lori and Traci, we gathered our stuff and went out to their car. Arming the alarm reminded that I needed to give the formula to Rose, as she would need to disarm it. On the way to school, I wrote it out and handed it to her, explaining how it worked. She thought I was kidding at first since it used stuff like the date, time of day, day of week, etc. She said by the time she figured out what the code was, it would have changed. I realized that maybe using an alarm code that changed every five minutes might be overkill, so I told her I would come up with a new one that would change every day at midnight. She still found it amusing that I did not just have one code, but she thanked me just the same. I walked Traci and Rose to their lockers before going to mine. Chuck was going on and on to Fran about my anime collection. Chuck spoke passionately about it and I could see the amusement in her eyes. We chatted for a minute before we had to head off to class. When I joined the girls at lunch, I saw Rose working out a math problem. After a few minutes, she handed me the paper and wanted to know if this would be the correct code to disarm the house alarm for today at 3:30. I shook my head and explained that the third '9' needed to be the letter 'C'. She grumbled and told me that I should just change the code to 69, since that was a number she could remember. She winked at Pollyanna when she said, that which almost caused soda to fly out of poor Pollyanna's nose. While we all chatted, Traci started to rub her hand up and down my thigh. She kept getting gradually closer to my crotch and, after a few minutes, I asked Michelle if she was free after lunch. She wanted to know why, so I explained that Traci was working me up and if she did not finish me, that I would need to seek relief elsewhere. That caused Pollyanna and Michelle, who were sitting across from us, to duck their heads under the table to see what was going on. By then, Traci had removed her hand and elbowed me. As we got up to leave the table from lunch, Michelle inquired if I still needed to see her. Traci glared at her and said that the only one that would relieve her boyfriend was her. She then added, "At least for now". That garnered a couple of giggles. We then went our separate ways. When I got home, I went ahead and changed the alarm code to a much easier formula. I told Rose, and it was simple enough that she could figure it out in her head. I also decided to tell Traci the code, as well, and I gave her the second copy of the house key, telling her she should always feel free to come over, even when I wasn't there. I received a hug for that. We ate supper at the Caspars' home and, afterwards, we watched some television. I noticed that Marge retired rather early and had taken my notebook to her bedroom. I went over to Lori, who was at the computer, and whispered in her ear, "Am I was going to be picking out a different set of pubic hairs from the keyboard?" If there was a world record for quickness of blushing, I was sure Lori broke it. She tried to sputter a reply, but I returned to the couch with Traci and Rose. A half hour later, Lori noted the two girls snuggling against me, and that there was no room for her. I told her she could sit on the floor and lean against my legs. After she sat down, I took my arms from around the two girls and started to give Lori a shoulder rub. Traci and Rose complained that they could not snuggle with me while I was doing that. I suggested they could go down and work on Lori's feet. They shrugged and joined Lori on the floor. Lori had her head down as I worked from her shoulders to her upper back. The girls had Lori's feet in their laps. I saw a wicked grin on Rose's face, and she lifted Lori's foot up and licked along her insole. That caused Lori to squeal, and she tried to pull back her feet. Traci began tickling the other foot, which led to Lori squirming more. The three of us began to attack Lori, tickling her everywhere. Lori tried to get away, but ended up flat on her back, each girl sitting on her leg while I had her arms pinned above her head. She pleaded for us to let her go. Her breathing was erratic even after we stopped tickling her so I looked her in the eyes and asked her, "Please let me go what?" She looked confused and repeated, "Please let me go!" "Please let me go what?" It dawned on her what I was demanding, and she looked away and muttered it. I said, "Louder." "Please let me go, master" I let go of her arms and motioned for the girls to get off her legs. Lori quickly got to her feet and dashed to her room. Traci and Rose were confused about what had transpired, but I told them not to worry, and that I was sure that Lori would be fine in the morning. I figured it would be a good time to return home, so I kissed Traci goodnight and returned home with Rose. The next morning, Lori kept her eyes focused at the ground when she said hello to me. After she drove us to school, I told Lori to remain in the car and asked the other two to leave us to talk. Traci gave me a strange look, but did what I asked. I joined Lori up front in the passenger seat. She kept her eyes ahead and refused to look in my direction. I reached out and turned her head to face me. I saw desire, passion, and fear in her eyes. I asked her if she got off after she left us, and nodded, fearing to speak. I asked her if she was ashamed and again she nodded. I told her it was nothing to be ashamed of. She finally spoke and said, "I am not so much ashamed that I got off on being held down and having to submit, but that I want my sister's boyfriend to be my master." She was rather shaken that she could even admit it, tears welling up in her eyes, so I took her right hand and clasped both hands around it. I held her hand and looked reassuringly at her. When she was relaxed enough, I started talking. "Lori, it is true that I am your sister's boyfriend and that I am in love with her. If you were to become my slave, you would need to know that I would only use your body for personal gratification, and that I would never love you like I do your sister. Also, she would have to give you permission to be my slave. Since I like to think of Traci as my equal, then that would make her your master, as well; she might even force you to service her. Finally, I told your mother that I would always be truthful with her, so if you were to become my slave, I would then have to inform her." Lori grew pale at my words, but I felt her pulse quicken in excitement. I told her she had a lot of stuff to think about and that I would see her in Calculus. I got out of the car and went to class. Lori did not say one word to me in fourth period, but she did walk along with me like she usually did, afterwards. I did notice that she was walking one step behind me and had her head down. She followed me to the table that the girls were at and, when we got there, she asked Traci if she could talk with her. Traci said "Of course!" and gave me another strange look as they left for Lori's car so they could talk in private. Rose asked me what did Lori and I talk about this morning. I asked Rose if she wanted me to tell everybody the conversations that she and I have had. That kept Rose from asking any more questions about what went on this morning. We talked about changing Saturday's weekly lunch into a slumber party, but I suggested that might be a bad idea. When they asked why, I told them I remembered the night ending with me showing my privates, but that I did not get to see theirs. After some blushing, they agreed to leave Saturday's tradition alone. Lori and Traci did not return to lunch, and Traci arrived late to Dance class. It wasn't until class was over that we got a chance to talk. Traci explained that, when they got into the car, Lori drove them home because their mother had not left for work yet. The three of them sat at the kitchen table and discussed what had happened last night and what I had told Lori this morning. Traci gathered from her mom's reaction that Lori had already talked to her mom about some of the stuff. She was shocked when her mom said that it sounds like the ball was in Traci's court. Lori ended up staying home while her mom dropped Traci off at school before heading on in to work. Since it was Tuesday, we had a game. To Traci's credit, she was focused when she played. I think it was a good distraction for her. They were a tough team, but we were able to pull off a victory. While we watched Varsity play, Traci seemed deep in thought. After the game, we walked home, holding hands in silence. We went into my house, and Rose was already at the dining room table, doing homework. She asked us how our game went; I told her we won. Traci asked Rose if she minded if she took me to my bedroom to talk. Rose could tell from Traci's voice that it was not something to joke about, so she told her she did not mind at all. I pulled my computer chair away from the desk and brought it close to the bed. I gestured to Traci to sit in it while I sat down on the corner of the bed so I could face her. I told her, "Please say what is on your mind." Traci said, "Do you want to breakup with me?" "No, that is the furthest thought from my mind." "Why do you want to fuck my sister!" Traci demanded, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. I told her, "I don't want to fuck your sister; I wanted to help her sister fulfill her desires." I received a snort for my answer. Traci then said, "I don't see what the difference is." "To me, fucking is when two people have sex just for the simple act of it. With Lori, I want her to fulfill her desires in a safe environment. If I don't, then there are two possibilities that could occur. One, she represses it, and then she will always wonder about it. Two, she finds someone else to explore that side of sexuality with her. The problem with that is the person she finds might not have her best interests at heart," I explained to my girlfriend. She asked me, "Do you enjoy that kind of kinky stuff?" "The pleasure I receive is more from helping others reach their potential, no matter what it might be." Traci paused a moment before asking, "Is the reason why you want to do this because you and I aren't having sex yet? I told her, "I doubt we are going to have sex." She was shocked that I said that, so I explained, "Traci, as you can tell, I have had sex plenty of times in the past, but I have never made love before. You are going to be the first, and most likely, only person that I will make love to." I could see that she was going through a gamut of emotions. She wanted to know more about BDSM, so I found the story by Fantasy Stories. I also pulled up some other stories dealing with that, including some dealing with siblings and mothers. I left her alone at the computer while I went back out to the kitchen. Rose did not ask any questions, but seemed a little concerned when Traci did not return. We ended up eating microwave dinners and it wasn't until 9:00 that she came out from the bedroom. She seemed rather flustered and asked me if I could come back to the bedroom and help her with something. As soon as I shut the bedroom door, she attacked me with a frenzied kiss. She reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, grabbed my hand, and shoved it down the front. Her cotton underwear was soaking wet, and she moaned as my fingers started to probe her through the material. I found her clit and stroked it a few times and when she climaxed, her whole body was shaking and shuddering. After she came down, she broke her kiss and told me that was the first orgasm she had ever had. As she had been reading the stories, she began to picture Lori as the slave and me as her master. At one point, she even pictured herself as the master. It took her a few moments to calm down and compose herself. She started to reach down to fix her jeans when I stopped her. I took her hand and guided her towards the bed. I felt her slightly tense but then relax, the trust she had for me overriding any uncertainty. I fully unzipped her jeans and started too slowly to pull down her pants. As I crouched down, she started to tremble with anticipation. She lifted up her right knee, leaving her sandal on the floor, and I helped her untangle her leg from the pants leg. After we repeated the same process for the left, I wrapped my arms around her thighs, and she let out a yelp of surprise as I stood, lifting her in the air. I tossed her on her back onto the bed and, before she could recover, I crawled onto the bed and parted her legs. I started at her left kneecap and started to work my way up, tracing delicate kisses along her inner thigh. Her intoxicating scent filled my nostrils and, for a split second, I thought about aborting my plan, but I continued on. Once my lips reached the edge of her panties, I stopped and repeated the process (much to her whimpering protests) starting with her right knee. This time, when I worked my way up, I did not stop when I reached the edge of her panties. Instead, I placed my mouth over her covered pussy and started to suck the moisture from the cotton. When my mouth made contact with her, Traci started to thrust her pelvis towards me. I shifted my gaze up, and I saw that she had rolled her head to the side with her eyes closed, her breath was getting shallower, and her hands clutched the bedcover. I started to run my tongue up and down the cotton underwear that covered her sex and, when I reached her hard nubbin, I nipped at it, which pushed her over and she arched her back as she screamed in ecstasy. When Traci's breathing finally returned to normal and she was able to focus on my face I grinned and asked, "Shall we go for three?" She sat up and grabbed me by my shirt, pulling me to her. When her lips met mine, I felt her stiffen for just a moment, as she tasted herself on me. If anything, it seemed to excite her more as her tongue probed my mouth. When she broke the kiss, she started to lick around my lips, apparently trying to taste more of herself. She then rolled me onto my back and reached down to unbutton my pants. I was wearing Levi 501's, and she practically undid all the buttons with one tug. My rock-hard cock sprang free and stood rigid in the air. It was the third time she had seen it, but it was the closest she had ever been to it. I lifted my hips, and she slid my pants down to my knees before turning her attention to my manhood. I had not had any sex for over a month, and I had never had the need to masturbate. I had gone through countless lessons on self-control, but when I felt Traci wrap her hand around my flesh, I felt it lurch. The tip of my cock was slick with precum and, as she slowly pumped her first up and down, a drop of precum appeared at the tip. Traci slowly lowered her head, tentatively stuck out her tongue and ran it along the underside until she reached the head, collecting the drop on her point of her tongue. She slid her hand down to the base of my cock and engulfed the head of my penis with her mouth. I was so glad she had read those stories beforehand because, while this was her first time, it did not seem like it. She made sure to keep her teeth away from my flesh, and she started to roll her tongue around the head of my cock while she softly sucked. She then slowly started to lower her mouth down my shaft, and when I saw her look up and our eyes locked, I lost it. I was unable to even warn her as my sperm surged and the first blast flew into her mouth. To Traci's credit, she did not pull away. Instead, she accepted my semen and continued to suck my cock as pulse after pulse filled her mouth. When I had finished, she removed her lips from my flesh and swallowed. She then began to lick any traces of my seed from me. When she was certain that there were none left, she crawled up to lie beside me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her on the nose. A look of disappointment that I did not want to kiss her lips brought out the revelation that I had still wanted to go down on her tonight and did not want to risk getting any of my wicked semen near her tantalizing pussy. She said as much as she enjoyed me eating her out, that she would rather have me kiss her, so I did. I tried to pour my heart and soul into our kiss, and I think she did, as well. I did not mind tasting myself, but I did not relish it like Traci did hers. Traci said she had better be heading back home, so we both got up. As Traci started to slide on her panties, I asked her if I could keep them. She asked why, and I told her that I kept all of my conquests panties. She said she had not seen my collection around the house, to which I replied that I had had to rent a warehouse to store them. She slid them off her legs and held them out for me to take -- which led me to being wide open for the punch in the shoulder from her other hand. After Traci and I had made sure we were decent, we returned to the living room. Rose was still up, watching television. I suspected that she was curious what the two of us were up to, so she had decided to stay down here instead of going up to her room. I had a little fun and warned Rose that I needed to air my bedroom out before she went in there to clean it. That comment earned an ear-to-ear grin from Rose and a punch from Traci. I think it also lead to Traci wanting to head back home even faster. I walked her to her door and gave her a tender kiss, telling her how I would never forget tonight. Traci surprised me when she said not to worry; that, if I did forget, we could always do it over again. And again, and again. I gave her a quick kiss and returned home. ------- Chapter 8 Lori's attitude was essentially much the same as it was the previous day, but at least this time she looked me into the eyes when she said hello. Traci was much more energetic than she usually was so early in the morning, but she grew beet red when Rose commented that even after airing the master bedroom, there was still an unmistakable scent lingering in there. I added that it was the odor of two people heads over heels in love with each other and would be in the wake of anywhere that Traci and I went. All three girls agreed that was the cheesiest comment that I had ever made, which was saying a lot. I was happy to see that Lori had agreed with Traci and Rose, but it did not last long as she resorted back to being somewhat withdrawn. To her credit, Traci did not even hesitate when I asked Rose and her to go on ahead and that I wanted to talk to Lori alone. This must have piqued Rose's curiosity, but she left with Traci and I joined Lori up in front of the car. Again, I had to reach out and turn Lori to face me. "Lori, I'm afraid that I can't be your Master if you continue to behave this way." "Why not? What way?" she asked me. "Right now, I know that you're conflicted, but when we are around others, you need to at least put on a positive face. Actually, not just a face, but you need to be positive in general. I like not to only consider you as my girlfriend's sister, but as my friend as well. That second part is why I volunteered to help you explore this sexual side of yourself, but I will be verdammt if I let it destroy what already exists between the two of us." She blinked a couple of times and then took a deep breath. After letting it out, she said, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to behave around you. I get aroused at the thought of you controlling me, but then I get upset at being aroused and that I am not worthy to be around you." "Well, that's just it. You are worthy to being around me and I even get aroused at the thought of controlling you. You just can't let this consume you. I want you to promise me that you will try to suppress your desire of being submissive when we are out in public. Heck, even when we are alone, I want you to try to be your regular self unless we are 'playing'," I said, adding the quote marks around playing with my fingers. She gave a slight smile and said, "And how do I know when we are 'playing'," mimicking my quote marks. "Well, for one, it will be after your sister gives you permission. Also, I will call you Slave and the tone of my voice will be different." Her smile remained when she rolled her eyes and said, "In that case, never." "Traci told me about the conversation that you had with her and your mother." I noticed the look of surprise on her face and added in a commanding voice, "Slave, don't you think your Master deserves to know this?" The smile vanished from her face only to be replaced with a look of fear mixed with excitement. After a moment, she composed herself and said, "Oh wow, I see what you mean." I smiled at her and told her in my regular voice that the next time I did that, it will be when we can actually continue. I informed her that I thought it would be at least a couple of months before Traci would actually let me dominate her older sister and that at least for now, we should try to resume the same type of friendship that we've had. She told me that she would try and pointed out that we needed to be getting to class. While I walked with her into the school, she asked me about the foreign word I had used during our conversation and I told her that it meant 'damned' in German. Being around me was truly an education for the girls, at least in learning how to curse in different languages. I left her at her locker and told her that I would see her at Calculus. At least this time when we left the math class, she was walking along side me instead of a step behind. I wondered if she had even noticed what she had done the previous day, but I was not going to point it out to her. The conversation was slightly forced, but not too awkward. We parted ways when we reached the Quad and I joined the girls at the table after stopping by the salad bar. When I sat down, Pollyanna was telling the girls about how the conversation went with her parents regarding her sexuality. Pollyanna's face was one of disbelief, but everybody else seemed amused. "So after I get done telling them that I was gay, they actually started to laugh and they both said, 'No Duh!'. It wasn't until I started to cry that they stopped laughing and wanted to know what was wrong. They couldn't understand why I was so upset. When I asked how they knew about me, they said that they had overhead Rose and me when she would come over for sleepovers during last summer. Mom actually said that Rose sure gets loud when she climaxes!" Pollyanna exclaimed. Rose grew red over that last comment but Michelle saved her further embarrassment when she told Pollyanna that it really was not surprising that her parents were cool about their daughter. Pollyanna replied that her parents were older than everybody else's and thought that they would be the ones to 'freak out' the most. "Where did you tell us that you lived until you were five, Pollyanna?" asked Rose. "Well, in a commune. What does that have..." "And what about last year when you were upset because of what your father had said?" pressed Rose Pollyanna answered, "He had joked that he might not have been my real dad since mom had slept around so much, but he got a blood test when he saw his remark shook me up so much and he is really my dad." Rose grew exasperated and finally said, "Pollyanna, your parents are long hair, hemp growing, granola eating, tie-dye and Birkenstock wearing hippies. Heck, your parents as much as admitted to you that they were swingers and you think that their daughter's sexuality would shock them?" I took out a twenty from my wallet and handed it to Pollyanna. She asked what it was for and everybody broke out laughing when I told her it sounded like she needed to buy herself a clue. After lunch was over, everybody started to go their separate ways when I stopped Pollyanna. She had assumed that I wanted my twenty back and when she started to reach into her pocket to retrieve it, I shook my head and said that it was I who wanted to buy a clue and she could keep the money if she knew the answer. She shrugged and said okay. I then asked her when was Rose's birthday and I was told December 5th. Thanking her and since the other girls were out of earshot, I suggested a possible present that Pollyanna could give Rose. Her eyes lit up, a grin erupted across her face, and I received a quick hug for my suggestion. ------- The rest of the week proceeded as usual. Had I waited eight hours, I would not have been out twenty dollars because Jean called me with it as well as the other girl's birthdays. When I tried to pry when her birthday was, I was shot down and told that it was classified. While Jean could not detect the grin that spread across my face over the phone, I told her fair enough and I vowed to myself that I would have that information by the next time I saw her. Securing classified information might not have been my specialty but I was not a rank amateur at it. While Traci and I did enjoy some time alone together, there was not a repeat of Monday night's exploits. We did however have some heavy make out sessions that included light petting, but Traci needed us to go slow so we did. Wednesday afternoon after water polo practice, Traci was walking along with me to my locker so I could pick up the books that I needed for that night's homework. My subconscious detected something was amiss and warned me of possible danger before I actually spotted the source. Since the first day of class, I had spun the dial on my locker after closing it and had gotten good at landing on the same number. Instead of forty-two, the number that it had been left on, it was on zero. I had already squatted down to open it and I surprised Traci when I suddenly stood up without touching my locker. Fishing out my wallet and retrieving a dollar, I asked Traci if she could do me a big favor and buy me a diet soda. Traci gave me a funny look, but took the dollar and headed off to the soda machine. After she had rounded the corner, I shifted my backpack from off my back and over my chest. It would be ineffective as a flack jacket, but it was better than nothing. As I began to enter my combination, I thought about who might want to place a bomb in my locker. Only somebody who was observing me would know that it was my locker since it was still on record that it was Fran Johnson's. I doubted somebody wanted to target Fran and that whatever was inside was meant for me. It also had to be an amateur's job since a professional like me would have made sure the locker was the same condition that it was found in. In addition, bombs were one of the weakest tools of assassination; too many variables could make it ineffective. Finally, a true assassin eliminates their target with the least body count whereas bombs were instruments of terror. After I entered the combination, I shifted to the side and pressed my body flat against the other lockers; I turned my head away as I lifted the latch. As I slowly began to open it, I did not feel any traces of resistance. After I had opened it a quarter inch, I turned my head back to it and checked to see if I could spot any traces of a detonation device or tripwire attached to the door of the locker. Finding none, I slowly opened it and took a quick glance. I had only looked in there for a second before moving my head back, but I was positive nothing was out of place. I let out the breath that I was not aware I had been holding, and began to do a detailed search of my locker. My initial reaction was correct; everything was exactly where I left it. All the books had the proper nicks on the bindings that I had put on made on them from the first night after I received them. There was still a small chance that they could have been tampered with while I was at water polo practice so I ruffled through all of them quickly. I did not have much time until Traci returned, but I completed what I needed to and grabbed the required books. I stowed them in my backpack and when I spun the dial, I used a little more force than usual. It landed on sixty-three. I had started to become a creature of habit, the easiest form of prey. From now on, I would make sure the dial was on a different number before I left it. When Traci returned with my soda, she was surprised that I practically guzzled it down. It wasn't the thought that I was in danger that had made me nervous. Growing up, I had become accustomed to it, but the idea that Traci could be caught in the crossfire of somebody trying to kill me caused me to shift into a dark place. It took close to three hours until I was able to match the façade that I presented to the girls. By the time I went to bed, I had convinced myself that I was overacting and that there was a logical explanation on why the dial was not the same as I had left it. My subconscious was screaming baka, idiot, at me but I was able to get to sleep after a couple of hours. Thursday night Lori drove Taci and me up to San Luis Obispo, the next big city to the north of Central City. Every Thursday night San Luis would shut down a couple of their downtown streets for Farmer's Market. While it did have some farmers who actually sold local produce there, it was mostly a street fair with all types of vendors operating booths. California Polytechnic University was located in San Luis so there were a great number of college students there. There were also lots of kids our age as well, and we saw a few we knew from school. With the masses of people in the streets, it took me a little longer to spot the three of them. I guessed them to be high school students from another school since they did not look familiar. I was uncomfortable the way that they were looking at me and the Caspar sisters and for the next half hour I paid less attention to what Traci and Lori were talking about and more on keeping track of the trio out of my peripheral vision. At Central High, I had gone out of my way to be known by each of the subcultures on campus. Lori had been able to introduce me to many of the juniors and seniors that she was friends with and with her being a cheerleader I was able to become friends with a few of the football players. The drum section in band had a few stoners and metal heads so that allowed me stop by and network with them every so often. The largest ethnic group in school was Hispanic, but I was able to strike up friendship with the wannabe gangbangers. I think the most nefarious deed they ever did was get together every so often and smoke weed. They warmed up to me when they found out that I spoke Spanish and I would trade insults with a few of them when we saw each other in the hallways. Overall, I was moderately safe at Central City High; it was when I was out of my element that I was in danger. "It's not the weekend yet!" Traci exclaimed as she saw me fish out my cigarette case and light up. We were headed back to our car and I still felt the three punks following us. I shrugged and did not reply to her. I doubted that she noticed that I did not hold my cigarette between my middle and forefinger, like I usually did, but between my forefinger and thumb. We were only three blocks from our car so the chance of me being spotted by the police and confronted about my underage smoking would have been a small price to pay. I allowed myself to relax slightly when the three teens turned at the corner a block from where we had parked. I still kept my guard up until we reached the car and I surprised the girls when I flicked my cigarette at the wall instead of snuffing out my mostly un-smoked cigarette and saving it for later. It had served its purpose and I was satisfied when I saw it hit exactly where I was aiming at ten feet away. Traci and I had both volunteered to be in the Pep Band for the away football game so we rode the booster's bus down to the game on Friday night. Lori would usually sit up with the other cheerleaders when they went to away games, but this time she joined her sister and me. Pollyanna and Rose had decided that they might as well knock out their homework Friday night and decided to stay home. I think they were just happy to have an empty house, especially after Wednesday's lunch comment about Rose being vocal. Since Michelle's father was rarely home because of work, she had chosen to stay home since it was one of the few nights he was there. It was on the way back from the game that Traci suggested that she swap places with Lori. I had been sitting next to the window with Traci practically sitting in my lap and Lori sitting beside us. Rose commented that Lori must have been cold tonight because of her cheerleader outfit and that I should warm her up. Lori started to protest and stopped after Traci whispered something into her ear. She then swapped places with Traci and settled down on my lap. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her gently; reinsuring her that nobody would heed us since the bus was dark. When Lori had to shift her position as a result of Traci pulling her legs into her lap, I prayed that she did not feel my current state of being. Traci had begun rubbing Lori's legs to keep them warm when I asked Lori quietly what Traci had whispered to her. She whispered to me that Traci had told her if she didn't swap places, she would make me order her to. I gave Lori's temple a quick peck and reminded her that I would never embarrass her in front of others. At least, not in the beginning I added. I do not know when Traci's rubbing had turned from sisterly warmth to erotic caresses, but it was Lori's breathing that finally clued me in. I gave Traci a puzzling look, which resulted in a wicked smile from her, but she gave a small pout and stopped after I gave a small shake of my head. There might be some who get excitement from public sexual encounters, but a high school bus was not the best choice of locations. In addition, we were about fifteen minutes away school and I did not want to start anything that would have to be aborted so quickly. Both Traci and Lori pretended nothing had occurred between the two of them as we drove from the school to our homes. Since the Harvest Festival parade was the next morning, I gave both girls a hug and a kiss when we got out of Lori's car. Lori's kiss was on the cheek but Traci's was one on the mouth that was filled with passion. Lori ended up dragging Traci into the house as she begged to stay over at mine. All three of us were joking around, but I did detect some truth to Traci's antics. I was somewhat glad that Traci had not come over since it would save some embarrassment later. When I had stepped into the house, I could hear Rose's current state of being. Since the foyer opened into the living room, I could see that Rose had her head tossed back on the couch. I did not see Pollyanna, but from Rose's actions and verbal commands, I had a very good idea where she was. I decided to bypass the living room and went through the study to get to my room. I was glad that the master bedroom was located at the end of a long hallway and that I had a thick door. Mrs. Hunington had been correct, Rose could be quite vocal. ------- Chapter 9 Saturday morning, I woke up to my alarm going off at 7:30. Since the away game had been an out of conference one, we had not gotten back to the high school until 1:00 so I was still rather tired. Maybe my fatigue resulted with me taking a shower while I still had my cigarette in my mouth. I had let out a mild Arabic curse at the lost of a precious cigarette. I had yet to find a supplier for my filthy habit, and I was beginning to run low. Since I still had my band uniform from last night, I was able to slip that on when I went to the kitchen. Rose and Pollyanna were just finishing setting up the table in the breakfast nook when I entered. I gave an exaggerated yawn and complained I could hardly get any sleep with all of the moaning and screaming. The two girls got quite flustered as I sat down to eat. They grew even more embarrassed when I answered their question regarding what time I returned last night. I suggested that there were plenty of other rooms in the house they could have chosen. I almost choked on a forkful of eggs when Pollyanna had said it was my fault they had ended up in the living room. "How could it possibly of been my fault?" I wondered. Rose answered, "Pollyanna and I were decided to watch some of your cartoons and we found a directory named something like 'Hindu'." I started to chuckle at Rose's mistake. "It was called 'Hentai'. It's a Japanese word and I guess from what you found there, you can guess what it means." Both girls nodded and while still slightly embarrassed, they had a few questions for me. I explained why some of the pornographic anime had pixilation over the privates while others did not. They also wanted to know if some of the manga scans that they had seen was black market since they had depreciated minors having sex with adults. I told them that it wasn't and that in Japan people sometimes read that stuff in public, like while riding the subway. They didn't believe me at first, but I assured them that I wasn't lying to them. Traci had used her key and let herself in and was slightly surprised to see Pollyanna. Pollyanna explained that her parents were cool about staying the night with Rose as long as it wasn't a school night and that she kept up her grades. I asked the lovers if they were going to the Harvest Festival but Rose insisted that the two of them had more 'studying' to take care of. They both kept innocent faces for about thirty seconds until we all broke up laughing. Traci and I said we would be back by twelve for lunch and hope they wrapped up their 'studying' by then. It was easier to walk to the start of the parade rather than dealing with the traffic congestion and we got to the rally point with plenty of time to spare. The parade started at 9:30 and we were done by 10:15. Traci and I ended up walking hand and hand through the booths that were set up at the end of the parade route. They were the typical fundraising type setups where you could win prizes like goldfish or buy food items. I was able to purchase a handmade bracelet when Traci had to duck into the restroom. When she had returned, she was none the wiser of my secret transaction. There was a group playing taiko, Japanese drums, at 11:00 so we headed to their pavilion. While I have heard better, this was my first time experiencing it live. It was awesome, the sound was able to resonate in my body and I knew that this was not going to be the last time I saw a taiko performance. When they were done, Traci and I decided to head back home, after a quick detour to an automatic teller machine. It was after twelve when we got back to my house and we made a big production of our entrance, making sure that Pollyanna and Rose had plenty of warning. The two of them were in the living room watching the plasma with Michelle and the three of them had turned to see us come in. Rose rolled her eyes and Pollyanna stuck out her tongue at the little show the two of us were making. I made a comment to Rose that I understood what she saw in Pollyanna after seeing her tongue. I easily dodged both sofa pillows that were thrown at me, but regrettably Traci had not expected projectiles to be hurled in her direction and was caught in the crossfire. She gleefully picked up the pillow that had stuck her and threw it back at Rose. I think Rose was still shocked that it had hit Traci instead of me that she did not dodge it and her face ended up catching the pillow. I suggested we stop otherwise Rose might end up having a big mess to clean up. When we had sat down at the Dining Room table, Rose informed me that a package from Amazon had arrived and she had taken it to the master bedroom. Pleasantly surprised that it had only taken six days for my order to arrive I thanked her. Everybody commented on what a good job Rose had done with lunch and when we had finished, I suggested that we all should go for a swim. Traci still had on her band uniform so she dashed home to change. When she returned, she did so with Lori and the two of them joined the rest of the girls in the pool. I took this opportunity to transfer the contents from the package I had received and set them out over Rose's bed. I also put the envelope that I had prepared the night before on her dresser. Realizing my absence might result in a recon party; I hurried back downstairs and joined the girls outside. It turned out that I had not been missed because the girls were playing a game of Marco Polo. I silently slid into the pool and swum underwater to Traci. The next time she cried 'Marco', I whispered into her ear 'Polo' which caused her to recoil in surprised. I was way too close to avoid her tag so I ended up being 'It'. Since I had been trained not to rely on all of my senses, detecting the direction and distance of osomebody with my eyes closed was simple. I was not 'It' for long but regrettably when I did tag Michelle, it resulted in a loud scream. I apologized to the red faced teen swearing that my hand had not meant to squeeze like it did. Everybody was laughing at us, but Michelle saw that I was sincere and accepted the apology. While Michelle was trying to find somebody, I decided to get out of the pool and catch some rays. Also, it was easier to have a cigarette while getting a tan rather than trying to have one while playing Marco Polo. I think I drifted off to sleep somewhere after my third cigarette. I woke up when shadow passed over my face. Rose was standing there still wearing her bikini with her left hand on her hip and the envelope I had left for her in the other. "What the heck is this!" she demanded, waving the envelope in the air. I let out a soft sigh and had predicted this reaction. "It is your salary." "I told you before that I didn't want charity. You have already done enough by letting me stay here," shot back Rose. I thought that it was a myth that red heads were fiery, but Rose was proving to me that it was fact. "Listen, you cook my meals, you clean my house, and you do my laundry. You took on the roll of my housekeeper. Trust me that a hundred dollars a week is cheap for a live-in maid." "It's too much. There is no way I am going to take this money." I could tell by the determined look in her eyes that I was losing the battle. I decided that a compromise was in order. "Okay, tell you what. The hundred dollars will be the food allowance and whatever is left over, is yours to keep." Rose's look matched my tone of voice so she paused and thought about it before replying, "I think I could live with that. I still think that it is too much though." "And I still think it is not enough. Not only have you been doing what I had already mentioned, you also went grocery shopping with Lori. One hundred dollars is cheap for a forty hour work week." "Where the heck do you get forty hours? At most, I did about twenty hours worth of chores." I countered, "Except if you had not done that, then I would have had to do it. That would have been twenty hours of me not being able to watch anime or hang out with Traci." She finally stopped waving the envelope in the air and allowed her arm to drop to her side. She decided to change the course of conversation and I saw the corners of her mouth twitch, trying to suppress a smile. "I suppose you'll want me to wear those skimpy clothes?" I returned the smile that she was trying to hide. "Actually, that was a spur of the moment purchase. I thought they would be cute on you, but you can wear whatever you want. Actually, I thought Pollyanna might enjoy you wearing a couple of those outfits." The grin that she was trying hard to hide finally broke across her face. "Actually, she was kinda excited about the outfits. I was too until I found the envelope." "Well, don't let our little disagreement stop you from having fun with your girlfriend. We cool?" I asked her. Smiling, she replied, "Yeah. Five by five." When she left, she was laughing at my puzzled expression. I reached for Camel when I felt a hand rest upon mind. I turned to see Traci, apparently she had come out from the house during the course of the argument that Rose and I had. "If you love me, then you'll stop smoking," she said. Maybe it was seeing me cave in to Rose that caused Traci to think now would be a good time to confront me about my filthy habit. I told her, "And if you love me, you will never say 'If you love me' again." A puzzled look crossed her face and she wanted me to explain so I did. "Only two things can happen when a person tells another person that. One, the person does what is requested and then resentment builds because they are not allowed to do what they want or two, the person ends up not doing what was requested and the other person wonders if they don't love them enough to do what was requested. It is a Catch-22. Damned if you do and damned if you don't. "You should know by now that I am truly and utterly in love with you Traci. I know that my love is strong enough to accept your flaws and I hope that you can do the same with me." "What flaws?" she asked. Now, I might have lived my entire life in a government compound, but I had enough sense not to answer that question, at least not honestly. "Well, for one, you snore. Two, your feet stink. Three, you don't taste as good as Rose. Four, you don't taste as good as Lori. Fiv..." The kick in the shin that I received was not that strong, but it did stop my mouth. Traci stated, "Since you do not like my taste, then you could go without." "I could always be wrong since it had been a while since I tasted you. Perhaps I should revaluate my position." Traci grew serious and asked me, "Please consider not smoking. Every cigarette meant seven less minutes of you growing old with me." I said, "Actually, it would be seven less minutes with my future wife, Michelle." That earned another kick in the shin and a roll of the eyes. She went back into the house and I did think about what she had said as I lit up the Camel Wide. When I was living in the Compound, I had always believed that because of my line of work that I would die before reaching forty. In addition, I did not really have much of a reason to grow old, except for the basic desire to survive that everybody possesses. Now, I did have a reason to quit smoking. As I took a deep drag on my cigarette, I thought at least now I have a New Year's resolution. The Huningtons had invited Rose over for supper that evening so she went home with Pollyanna. Rose had been instructed to bring an overnight bag, but before she left, she informed me she would be back in time to take care of my guests tomorrow. Lori was meeting some of her cheerleader friends at the mall and offered to drop Michelle off and the two of them had left before Rose. Traci and I had just finished watching an episode of Sailor Moon when she started to get up and ask what I wanted for supper. I pulled her back down and said what I wanted to eat was right in front of me. She let out a giggle that I truly adored but only weakly try to get up again. This time I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply. As our tongues danced with each other in our mouths, I ran my hand along her back. My touch confirmed what I had been thinking; she was not wearing a bra under her tee shirt. I slid my hand under her shirt and started to caresses her back, savoring the feel of her flesh. When she broke the kiss, I saw that look of desire in her eyes, which always weaken my defenses. I swore to myself that I would never look at her that way until I knew she was ready. She reached down and pulled her tee shirt over her head. It was strange that it was the first time I had seen her bare breasts, especially after last Monday night when we had gone down on each other. I decided to make up for lost time by exploring them fully. I ran my fingers gently around each globe, careful to avoid her now erect nipples. I was staring at her beautiful breasts and when I glanced up, I saw a longing look in her eyes. I kept my eyes locked on hers as I leaned in and ran my tongue from the base of her left breast up to her areola. I did the same with her right breast and almost made the comment that Pollyanna tasted better when a wiser voice told me that now was not the time for stupid jokes. I went back to the left breast and started running my tongue around it, starting from the base and working its way up. When I finally got to her nipple, my mouth engulfed it. A moan escaped from Traci's lips as I began to suck on it. She really went wild when my tongue started to flick across the tip of her nipple while I continued to suck on it. After a minute, I removed my mouth and moved over to her right breast. Again I started at the base and started to work my way up when she grabbed my head and guided it to her nipple. I resisted just for a second, thinking about reminding her of the importance of balance but again the voice told me to shut the hell up so I did. While I was working my magic on Traci's breasts, she had shifted so that her legs were straddling my right thigh. She started to grind her pelvis against it and I swore I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy. I reached up with my hand and began caressing her left breast as I suckled her right. From the way Traci was breathing and the way she was humping my leg, I knew she was close. I tweaked her left nipple at the same time I bit down lightly with my teeth on my right and that sent her over the edge. It took her around fifteen seconds to ride through her orgasm. It took her another thirty seconds to recover and there were tears of joy in her eyes. She removed my mouth from her breast and kissed me. As we continued to kiss, she began to pull off my shirt. We had to break for a moment as she brought the shirt over my head and tossed it aside. She returned to kissing me for a moment before breaking again. Then she kissed my chin and started to kiss her way down to my chest. I leaned back and allowed her to explore my pecs. She caught onto my trick and began to tweak my left nipple as she sucked and nipped on my right. This time the voice in my head did not have to warn me not to say anything about balance as she started to work her way further down my abdomen. She had to get off my knee and got on the floor between my legs. As she was running her tongue around my bellybutton, her hands were fumbling with my shorts. When she finally got me free of my shorts, I swore that if my erection had hit her, it would have knocked her out; it had felt that hard. She avoided making any contact as my torrent member bounced in front of her face. Instead she traced her tongue from my bellybutton down to the base of my cock. She removed her tongue and smiled up at me. Again, I had to fight back the look of desire from my eyes and instead I smiled down at her, trying to reassure Traci what she was doing was bring me pleasure. She then moved to my left kneecap and ran her tongue along my thigh. She surprised me when she reached my balls and began to lap at them. Balance be damned, I wanted her sweet lips on my cock now! She looked up, and from my expression, she knew she had won. She ran her tongue from my ball sac up along the underside. When she reached the tip, she slurped up the precum that had begun to leak out. She repeated the process, this time running her tongue along the right side of my member of desire but this time when she reached the tip, she engulfed the tip into her mouth. She began to run her around it as she sucked gently on my cock head. While she was doing that, she kept her eyes locked on mine. I clutched at the sofa's cushions and I broke our stare when I rolled my head to the side and let out a moan. I knew at that moment, if Traci had asked me to quit smoking, I would have said yes. I was lucky that she was not as wicked as I was. Instead, she began to slowly bob her head up and down my cock. She kept her hands on my thighs, only using her mouth on me. She was surprised when I moved my hands down to her face and pulled her off my cock. I stood up and pulled her up with me, giving her a quick kiss before yanking her shorts down. It turned out that a bra was not the only thing she was not wearing. The look of surprise on my face was matched with a huge grin from Traci. It seemed that she had decided that she did not want me to have to pluck any pubic hair from my teeth. I guided us to the center of the floor and lied down on my back. It took her only a few seconds to realize what I wanted to do but when she finally caught on, she grinned. She lowered her dripping sex over my mouth as she leaned down to resume her oral ministrations. Since she had already climaxed once, she was quite wet. I savored her flowing juices, running my tongue along her swollen lips. I wrapped my hands on her firm ass as I continued to feast on her nectar. She jerked slightly when I ran my tongue to her puckered anus, but continued to bob her head up and down my shaft. She had one hand around the base of my cock while the other was working its way up and down the portion that she could not fit into her mouth. It was when I plunged my tongue into her that she broke contact with my cock and screamed, having another orgasm. When she returned to her task, I gathered some of the excess juices that flowed from her on my fingers and moved them back to her rosebud. I ran my now slick fingertips over it as I started to use my tongue on her clitoris. I redoubled my efforts as I felt the traces of my impending orgasm, trying to get Traci off at the same time as I. I think it was the combination of my sperm filling her mouth, my teeth biting gently on her clit, and my fingertip sliding into her backdoor that took her over the edge. She had to take her mouth off my erupting cock as her body began to jerk in her orgasm. She had taken most of seed, but a few pulses ended up shooting into the air, landing on the both of us. Traci rolled off of me, possibly afraid I would want to continue. Part of me did, but another part was sapped from the short night and long day. I was also a little hungry and my stomach let out a small rumble. Traci had recovered enough so that when she heard my stomach, she let out a giggle. She said it sounded like she was not enough to eat and perhaps I might want something else. When I pointed out that Marge was next door, she had enough energy to give me a playful punch. After a moment, she got up and went to the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, she returned with a couple of hand towels and a warm washcloth. She proceeded to clean me when I took the cloth from her and did it myself. She also tried to clean up some of the mess we had made on the couch and floor. She said there was no way I paid Rose enough to clean up after us and I agreed with her. When we were done, I suggested a shower seemed in order. She declined saying that I should go first and she would go after me. I asked her if she did not trust me enough to take a shower together and she replied that no, she did not trust herself. I took a quick shower and hurried back to the kitchen to behold a wonderful sight. Traci was standing next to the stove, cooking some hash. As much as I like watching women cook for me, it was her attire that I enjoyed most. She was wearing an apron and nothing else. I stood there admiring her perfect ass when she turned to see me staring at her. "Does that thing ever go down?" she asked me. My cock had softened after it had blasted its load, but seemed to have found renewed energy as I had been standing there watching Traci. It was most likely due to the fact I had been imaging walking up behind her, sliding it deep into her pussy and fucking her while she continued to cook. Maybe if I had been wearing something it would not have been so evident. "I think the best course of action would be to put on some clothes. Otherwise you might end up losing something tonight," I told my girlfriend. Traci agreed and after the hash was done, grabbed her clothes from the living room and headed to the shower in the master bathroom. After I made sure the range was off, I headed back to the bedroom. When I heard the shower turn off, I entered the bathroom. A look of surprise filled her face but I moved beside her and began to draw a bath. I added some scented bath salts and when it was full enough, turned off the water, and I then guided her and me into the tub. I lay down in the tub, pulling her down with me, her back against my chest. I told her I just wanted to soak in a hot bath and soak in her love for me. I had wrapped my arms around her waist and just holding her, trying to defuse any erotic feelings the act we were doing might cause. We sat in there for about five minutes before Traci's stomach rumbled. "I guess I wasn't the only one not satisfied with our snack." "Oh trust me; I was completely satisfied with it. I'm afraid a girl can't live on semen alone." We both shook with laughter and I enjoyed the way Traci's breasts bounced. I was almost enjoying it to much and since I did not want to ruin the moment, suggested we get out and go eat supper. When we got out of the tub, we dried each other off and again, I did my best to avoid it becoming too sexy. Traci on the other hand had different thoughts on her mind and seemed to linger when she reached my crotch. She gave me a little pout when I batted her hand away, but she got the hint and after we were done, we got dressed and headed back to the kitchen. It only took a little bit to reheat the hash and Traci scrambled some eggs to go along with it. I did my part and made some toasted bagels. I smothered them with cream cheese and grabbed the bottle of orange juice from the fridge. I poured us two large glasses and kept the bottle out figuring that we might need more to replenish ourselves. As we ate, Traci informed me that we would most likely not be repeating what we did anytime soon since her period would begin in the next few days. I said it was not a big deal and that there was always Lori. Since she was sitting across from me, she could not hit me so after trying and failing to kick me, she ended up crumbling up a napkin and throwing it at me. She told me that Lori and her mom also had their periods at the same time so they would be off limits as well. When I inquired if she knew Rose's cycle, I got another crumpled napkin thrown at me. "You know what this means, right? I can start taking the pill!" Traci gushed. I nodded, but added, "I know the doctor said it is effective as soon as you start if you time it to begin with your period, but I think it might be best to wait at least one full cycle before even thinking about making love." "Why? Don't you want to?" asked a curious Traci. "Goddess yes, I am counting the days until I can make love to you, but lets think about this realistically. We have known each other for just about three weeks and we have been dating for two. I know that since we live next door to each other, we were able to spend more time with each other than regular couples, but I want you to be a hundred and ten percent sure that you love me as much as I love you. If we move to fast, I am afraid that you might have doubts about how I feel about you. Let's take our time and move slowly." "Funny you should say move slowly when you made me come three times today." We both giggled at that comment, but I think Traci figured out I was most likely right. Never had I wish I was ever so wrong, but I knew that this was the best course for the future. After all, I did want to have a long future with the girl that sat across from me. ------- Chapter 10 Rose was true to her word and was back before the anime club started to show up. If her presence had surprised them last time, this time they were floored with what she was wearing. She had chosen one of the more revealing French maid outfits and even wore the fish net stockings it came with. She must have thought about what she was going to wear the night before because she had borrowed a pair of high heel shoes from Pollyanna. Not much work got done with our fansubbing project, but I doubted the guys minded. When the gathering was over, she gave everybody a kiss on the cheek at the door and asked them not mention what she had worn at school; otherwise, she would be too embarrassed to wear it again. Everybody swore to absolute secrecy and I doubted a word would be whispered at school, at least not to anybody outside of the anime circle. The next weekend, Pollyanna had stayed the night so when the anime group had showed up, they were greeted by two French maids. John had planned on just one French maid and had only made up one set of cat ears for Rose to wear. After she had put them on, she even gave a little 'meow' that caused everybody to break into laughter. Rose had grown interested in my anime and manga collection so she understood the erotic sight of a cat maid had on otakus. David asked Traci if she was into CosPlay. She did not know what that he meant and I was about to explain it to her when Rose beat me to it. She said that CosPlay stood for Costume Play and some Hindus got off on it. Everybody laughed at that, especially because she had meant Hentais. I was somewhat sure Rose knew the word Hentai since I often found her looking at stuff in that directory. It was earlier in that week that Rose and I had another argument. I had come home to find Rose watching some hentai in the living room. "I can get a computer for your bedroom, and you can watch any of the anime up there," I told the redhead. Rose shook her head so I continued on, "You don't even have a television in your room and I could at least buy you one of those" "I didn't have a television in my room when I was living at home so I'm not missing anything," Rose said. She then added, "It's not like Buffy or Angel was on anymore." I gathered Buffy and Angel were shows that she used to watch, but she continued, "I will get a computer when I have saved enough money and not before." "I could most likely put together a real simple workstation for a couple hundred dollars," I suggested. "If I decide to go that route, then you can do that, but only after I have the money to pay for it. For now, I'll just have to put up with watching pornography around my boss," and she ended the discussion by turning back to the plasma and resuming the anime. I admired her strong will and sense of being, but there was no way I was going to tell her that. It was during the second week in October that we had to cancel the lunch date and anime meeting. Traci and I had to attend a Junior Varsity water polo tournament in Ventura. Since Ventura was close to two hours to the south, we were going to end up staying in a hotel and would be gone the entire weekend. We did a great job and only suffered one loss and that was during the semi-finals. We ended up with third place, not too bad since there were bigger schools from Los Angeles that had been in the tournament. ------- It was around 7:00 in the evening when we arrived back at the school from the water polo tournament. Lori was already waiting for us since Traci had called her with her cell phone with an ETA. When we got into the car Lori launched into a story about how there was a party that was busted up by the cops the Friday night we had left town. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that some drugs were discovered there and one girl had to be taken away by ambulance because of alcohol poisoning. Lori said that there were lots of athletes and a couple of cheerleaders at the party and the cops had made a list of everybody who was present. She was sure that the school had been contacted. When we got to the girls' house, I asked why Lori had not gone. She turned and grinned saying she knew her Master would not have approved. She jumped out of the car before Traci had a chance to lay her hands on her. The next morning, it was all over school but as rumor had a habit of doing; it grew larger with each telling. By lunchtime, it was the entire cheerleading squad that had to be hospitalized because of alcohol poisoning and that the cops had walked into everybody shooting heroin and snorting coke. When Mr. Turner had asked me to stay after class and had called me Chad when he did it, I had a sinking suspicion that a couple of the Varsity players were at the doomed party. It turned out that was the case and he wanted to give me a heads up that Coach Walters wanted me to workout with the Varsity squad today. He said a couple of other players from the Junior Varsity squad would also be trying out for a few 'vacant' openings. I thanked him for the warning and headed off to Dance. Since Coach Turner had delayed me, I was unable to pass the news on to Traci until after class. She said it was wonderful that I might end up on the Varsity squad. I pointed out to her that she was our third highest scorer and she might end up getting a shot as well. She doubted it figuring that it would be the sophomores who would be the only ones given a chance. It turned out that five members of the Varsity squad had been kicked off the team. The party had actually be quite a large one and their were lots of athletes there so the school decided the fairest thing to do would be to kick off five members of each team and allow the rest to remain on probation. It would hardly faze the football team at all to loose five members, but with a small team like water polo, it was over a third of the squad. Coach Walters had at first wanted to boot everybody who was at the party, but thought it would be unfair to the rest who had not gone since it would mean forfeiting the rest of the season. He had decided the next best solution was to draw lots. Unfortunately he had lost both his goalie and backup goalie as well has his starting hole man. Fran, Jason Lopez, Gary Peterson and I, all sophomores I noted, worked out with the remaining Varsity squad. Halfway through practice, Coach Walters swapped us out with the rest of the sophomores as well as a surprised Traci. I was busy practicing with the JV squad so I did not get a chance to watch how Traci did. When it was over, Coach Walters said that he would only be taking four players so that the JV squad would not be impacted to harshly. Coach Turner tried to convince him that the purpose of the Junior Varsity was to prepare them for when they reached Varsity level, but Coach Walters was firm. I began to wonder if perhaps Coach Walters might be dying his hair black because he seemed to behaving like Rose. I think there was no doubt that Fran would be chosen, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear my name called. Greg Bachman and Traci Caspar were the other two members selected to fill out the Varsity Squad. Traci was going a mile a minute explaining to her sister what had happened during practice. Lori thanked me when I stopped Traci's insistent rambling by giving her a deep long kiss. It didn't faze her in the least because she started back up when I broke the kiss. I decided to try again and we kept lip locked until Lori pulled up in front of their house. It wasn't until Lori had gotten out of the car and made it halfway up their walkway when Traci realized we were at her house. She practically jumped out of the car to run in to tell her mom. I followed her inside the house to hear Traci launch into her story of what had happened today. Marge sat there patiently listening to her youngest daughter go into great detail about the days events. I think it was when Traci was giving a play by play description of her workout that Lori rolled her eyes and pointed at me and then Traci. I got the hint and turned Traci to face me and gave her another kiss. She tried to resist at first, but she melted into my arms and kissed me with great passion. Marge started to laugh and told Lori they finally found a way to shut up Traci. Traci paid no heed and our tongues danced with each other in our mouths. When we broke our kiss, she excused herself and dashed to her room. I began to wonder what had happened to her and I gathered from the looks that the other two ladies shared they knew what might be up. I caught on when I heard Traci launch into her story again. Apparently calling her friends was more important than her boyfriend. I chuckled at her excitement and told the remaining Caspar women I had better head back home since I was no longer wanted here. Lori told me that I was always wanted over here and Marge agreed. She floored Lori and me when she seductively licked her lips and winked. I quickly countered that I had better leave then before I got caught by my girlfriend in a ménage à trois with her mother and sister. Lori was further shocked when Marge shrugged and suggested it might be an education for all parties involved. I thought I picked up some truth in what Marge was saying so I quickly bid my farewell and hurried home. When I got home, Rose was on the phone, nodding her head and agreeing with whatever the other person was saying. She sat down the phone and walked over to me and gave me a hug telling me congratulations for making Varsity. I rolled my eyes and asked if that was Traci on the phone and she grinned and nodded. "Goddess, she can't even wait to tell you in person, but called you instead." Rose gave me a funny look but a wicked grin spread across her face. She picked up the phone and resumed the one sided conversation. This time instead of just agreeing, she started to groan and moan 'yes, yes'. She kept that up for close to a minute. Traci finally must have caught on. "No, Pollyanna isn't over here. Nope, I'm not playing with myself. Chad is eating me out," Rose answered into the phone. After a slight pause, Rose started laughing. "Traci says you could at least have the common decency to wait until she was done talking to me." "Tell her that it was either this or me eating out her mother and sister instead." Rose listened for a moment and started laughing harder, "She heard you and said at least you wouldn't be interrupting her phone conversations." I rolled my eyes and headed into the dining room to work on my homework. Five minutes later Rose came to join me. She swore that her ear was numb, but thanks to the many years of her friendship with Traci, she had grown used to dealing with an excited Traci. She said when Traci and I finally do it, she already expects to hear a detailed account of the deflowering. "Maybe I should save you the trouble and have you there to watch it so you won't have to hear about it." She grinned and said I should just video tape it so we could save everybody the hassle. I chuckled but inside I winced. I knew that at least the very first time Traci and I made love it would be outside of the house. I was used to the CYA knowing everything that I did, but I would be damned if they would witness our first encounter. We studied for about fifteen minutes before Rose set down her pencil and asked me if I believed in God. I thought for a moment, realizing for the first time that my legend had omitted that detail. It was standard operating procedure to include religion as part of the background. I guessed they decided that it would be easier for me to pick my own so I told her no and asked her what had brought that question on. "Well, sometimes you say Goddess and such. I was wondering if you were a pagan or something." I smiled at her. "I currently do not believe in a higher power. I just use Goddess because it's more fun." Rose was deep in thought for a moment before asking how I was sure that there was not a higher power. I told her that I was not sure, but for me, I did not need one. "Rose, I think religion has been used throughout time to control the masses. When you had a select few who controlled what was dispersed to the masses, you were able to control them. Don't get me wrong, I think that there are some people whose belief in God or Allah or Buddha is genuine and for them, I am all for it. I just don't care for people who use a higher power to wield power over others. Think about the people who wrote the Bible. They were nomadic herdsmen who needed a large tribe. They knew that the only way to survive was to increase their numbers. Therefore, what do they do, they forbid homosexuality. They knew if you took two bulls and put them together, you don't get any calves. Remember the story of how God stuck down Onan because he refused to spill his seed into his dead brother's wife, Tamar? God was not angry over the fact that Onan was having sex with his sister-in-law; he was angry that the seed was spilt upon the ground instead of in her womb where it belonged. By the way, that is one of the first written recordings of birth control I might add, the withdraw method. Then there is the time that Lot had sex with his daughters to insure that they would have children. Look at the Mormons. The reason why they were allowed to have so many wives was to increase their numbers. Even the Catholic Church is still against birth control, let alone abortion." After my little rant, Rose said, "Looks like you have been giving this some thought." "Please don't get me wrong, but I think that the Bible is flawed. One moment it is saying 'Thou shall not kill' and another it is saying 'Go upon this land and slay every man, woman, and child who does not believe in my word'. We saw that Chris Rock Special where he talked about pork and the Bible. Part of my personal problem is that all religions require faith, and that is something that I am lacking." Rose grinned, "Yeah, 'In those days, they didn't have nothin' to keep pig meat from killin' a man. These days, a pork chop is your friend'. I guess it is tough for me since I have grown up my entire life with Christianity being forced down my throat." "Rose, I usually try to reserve judgment on people until I meet them, but I think your mother was fucked up. I don't see how any parent could ever kick out their child because of who they are." Perhaps it was because I hardly used profanity, at least in English, around the girls, but my statement seemed to shock her for a moment. I used that as an opportunity to continue. "When you have some free time, try reading the Bible with a critical eye. Don't accept everything you read as given fact but keep an open mind. You will see how certain passages could be twisted to fit your needs. Everything from vengeance, to slavery, to incest can be justified. And don't just stop at the Bible, try reading other religious tomes. Heck, the best would be to learn Greek so you can read the earliest written recordings of the Bible, but I doubt it would be worth all the trouble. Look into other churches, there are over a hundred of them in a thirty-mile radius of here. There is bound to be one that might provide you with some answers. I'm sorry, you had to put up with Traci and now here I am rambling on." "It's okay. I think Pollyanna's mom might be a Wiccan." I smiled at that comment. "I would trust a Wiccan over most Christians any day of the week. At least their concept of Mother Earth is better for the environment. You already know most Holidays were created by the church to replace pagan holydays, right?" Rose nodded and thanked me for expressing what I believed. I told her it wasn't important what I believed, what was important is what she believed. I told her I didn't care if she ended up worshiping Beelzebub, as long as what she did didn't harm others, I was all for it. I would still remain her friend and care for her. It was over an hour later when Traci came over. Rose and I had already finished our homework and she was making a supper in the kitchen. I was helping her peel some potatoes when Traci came into the kitchen. When I went over to kiss her, she held up her hand saying that her jaw was sore. Rose laughed at that, but I still gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. I caught her sniffing me and I asked her what she was doing and she said she was just checking to make sure I didn't have any essence of Rose. "Girl, if you want to smell it so bad, you should come directly to the source," Rose said in a rather husky voice. Traci busted up laughing at Rose's tone and I joined in as well. Rose even thought she had sounded lame and started to laugh. After we were done laughing, Rose walked up and gave Traci a hug and congratulated her on making Varsity. I winced slightly because I thought it might set Traci off but it did not. Instead, Rose caught Traci sniffing her face and was told that she was just making sure her man's juices did not end up anywhere it shouldn't. "Trust me Traci. I think you should worry about the horny girls next door rather than the lesbian maid," explained Rose. "If there's a guy to change you from lesbian to bisexual, it's my boyfriend. Hell, he's gotten straight little old me into having wicked thoughts about my mom and sister." Traci realized she might have said too much and turned bright red, quite a feat considering her tan. Rose grinned and pointed out to her that I was off the market until the two of us finally got it on. The longer Traci held out, the longer I was off the market. Traci caught me nodding in agreement and that earned the usual punch in the arm. "That settles it. I'm going to remain a virgin until my wedding night. You better be prepared to wait four more years until you have sex again Chad." "Four weeks, four months, four years, I don't care. As long as it is with my true love, I'll be happy." I turned to Rose and asked her, "So True Love, when are we getting married?" "I'm not busy next weekend. That sounds good?" Rose replied. Traci rolled her eyes. "Chad, sometimes you say the sweetest things that make my knees quake and then you ruin the moment with some lame ass comment." I bit my tongue on what I would like to do with my finger and a certain ass, but I knew it was not worth it. I moved behind Traci and wrapped my arms around her waist and whispered that I loved her in her ear. She leaned back into me and we enjoyed the moment. Rose rolled her eyes and went back to getting supper ready. Traci and I broke our embrace and helped her finish cooking. I do not know if it was a coincidence or not, but we ended up having pork chops. After dinner, I suggested that we make it an early night since it was our first Varsity game tomorrow. Traci's eyes lit up for a brief second but then calmed down enough not to launch off again. Both Rose and I had caught the look and smiled at her and each other. Traci went home to do her homework and go to sleep. When I returned from walking Traci to her door, I found Rose curled up in a chair in the living room, reading her Bible. I told her goodnight and that if she wanted to talk, my door was always open. She looked up, smiled, and said she would see me in the morning. ------- Chapter 11 It was not attractive, but we managed to scrape off a victory for both our squads. Fran ended up playing goalie for the entire game. I started on the bench for most of the first quarter, but I was subbed in and stayed in for the remaining first and most of the second quarter. I did not play any of the third quarter, but I went in during the last five minutes of the fourth. I had been using my right hand the entire game and when the opportunity arose, I fired off a shot with my left. It was enough of a surprise that I was able to score in the remaining minute and we won, 5-4. After the game, we did our usual victory meal at In-and-Out. It was while we were eating that Chuck had raised his arm next to Fran's and said, "Damn girl, you are going to end up as dark as me. Mom's going to freak the next time she sees ya." Fran's skin had gone from milky white to tomato red and was now currently a healthy bronze. She grinned and agreed that Chuck's mom was going to freak that her baby white daughter was turning black. "So your parents know each other?" I asked. They looked surprised at this question. They thought they had told me already and when they explained, it I could tell they told it often because they had a pattern set. Chad started it off. "Okay, I think I told you how we have the same last name and even share the same birthday. What I guess I forgot to tell you was that we were both born at the same hospital. What's even freakier is that my mother's name is Moesha and Fran's is Margaret." Fran continued, "So both our parents are in the same hospital but my mom is in Room 114 and Chuck's mom is in 119. They would list the names on the doors of the rooms with the first initial and last name. It turns out that they also did that with the armbands on the baby along with the room number." Chuck tagged in and said, "Well, whoever was doing the labeling must have had sloppy handwriting because it was a couple of times that the wrong baby was brought to the wrong mother. They tried to give me to Fran's mom at least twice even after she kept insisting she had a white daughter. I guess they thought she was in denial or something." "At least you got past the doorway. The nurse would walk into Chuck's mom's room, look at her, look at me, then look at her, and turn around and leave." "At the time, our parents didn't think much of it, just some confused nurses or something. It wasn't until we began kindergarten and came home talking about some other kid with the same last name and same birthday that they finally realized what was going on five years earlier." "So our parents decided that it would be a good idea to meet and they hit it off instantly. They became great friends and when a neighbor had told my mom that they were thinking of moving, she told Chuck's mom since she knew she had wanted to stop renting and buy an actual home." "Anyhow, they would take turns babysitting us and we really raised more like brother and sister than friends. Heck, whenever Fran would act up, her mom would tell her that the hospital must have made a mistake and that I was her actual child. The same would go for me, my mom would tell me that Fran must be her child because her child would never be as stupid as I was." "Every birthday the six of us would go out for a birthday dinner. Talk about strange looks from other diners when they would see a cake brought out saying 'Johnson Twins' and brought to our table." Traci said, "Wow, it's like that episode from 'The Dick Van Dyke" show." "It's our parent's favorite episode," Fran and Chuck replied in perfect unison. Traci, Lori, and I broke into laughter over that. It seems that not only had they had their story down pat, they must get that response a lot. I had no idea what "The Dick Van Dyke" show was, but swore I would look into it. Chuck and I received some rolled eyeballs as we shifted the conversation towards anime. The site that the anime club had used to acquire the raws for the fansub project had gone down. It appeared that mirKx was no more so for the past few days we had scrambled for an alternative website. Chuck told me that it appeared that Tokyo Toshokan looked like a site that could suit our needs and wrote down the address on a napkin. Traci thought it was silly that I had been so worked up over the lost of a simple website. I patiently explained that I could either spend three hours a night going through different websites finding stuff I wanted to download or fifteen minutes a night doing that and the rest of my time with her. She changed the subject by asking Chuck what had happened to his buns. "Why, you like my sexy ass?" he asked Traci. After we got done laughing, Chuck explained to her that he had ordered his Double-Double 'Protein Style' which was code for replacing the buns with lettuce. When Fran pressed him why he did not get his usual 4X4, and she let out an exaggerated gasp when he said he was not hungry. Fran explained to us that she had never known Chuck not to be hungry and that he must be sick or something. The next day at lunch, Rose informed us that she would be unable to make lunch that Saturday. Everybody assured her it was no big deal, well everybody except Traci. "Why can't you make us lunch?" asked my inquisitive girlfriend. "I might not be back in time," answered Rose, clearly not wanting to add anything else. Traci shot Pollyanna a glance, but the girl merely shrugged. Either Pollyanna did not know what her girlfriend was doing that Saturday morning or she was wise enough not to let Traci know that she knew and have to suffer Traci's questions on the subject. Saturday morning after we had a light breakfast, Rose had gone upstairs after cleaning up the kitchen and Traci and I were watching some anime on the plasma when the doorbell rung. It was still rather early for Michelle or Pollyanna to show up for lunch so I was rather curious who it might be when I went to answer the door. "Hi. Is Rose ready?" asked Ruth Bachman, a sophomore, who stood in the doorway. "I don't know, but I think so. Would you like to come in?" I asked her. "Sure," replied Ruth, stepping into the foyer. Since Ruth and I both had English together, I began to ask her what she thought about the book we had been assigned to read when Rose came bounding down the stairs, two at a time. When she reached the bottom, she was slightly breathless, but was able to compose herself. "Am I dressed okay?" asked a concerned Rose. Rose was wearing a rather nice sundress that I could not instantly recall her seeing her wearing before. She also had her red mane pulled up in a bun in the back of her head. She did a small turn in front of the two of us. Ruth chuckled, "You look fine Rose." Ruth then turned to me and said, "I'm sorry that I can't stay and chat, but my parents are waiting for us." "No worries," I said to Ruth and I turned to Rose, smiled and said, "Don't worry about lunch. We can fend for ourselves." Rose smiled back and gave me a quick hug, bid Traci and I goodbye and left with Ruth. Traci had gotten up from the couch in the living room and moved to the archway of the foyer to find out what was happening. After Rose had closed the door, my girlfriend had an idea of what was going on. "Rose is going on a date!" I chuckled and decided to keep my opinion to myself. If my hunch was right, Rose had taken some of what I had said to heart. I just hoped my friend found whatever she was looking for. ------- Whenever I had broached the subject of Halloween, the girls that I ate lunch with told me not to worry, they had it covered, and that my costume was taken care of. They refused to tell me anything else about it so I choose not to press them. Since Halloween fell on a Sunday that year, the Friday before we were allowed to wear costumes to school. They had assured me that it not be indecent and that I would like it. That Friday morning I awoke to find a black tuxedo, cape, top hat, black wig, and mask hanging on the back of the master bathroom door. After I put them on, I headed out into living room to find Rose, Pollyanna, Michelle, Lori, and Traci all standing in a line waiting for me. I greeted them each with a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning Sailor Mars," I told Rose. "Good morning Sailor Mercury." "Good morning Sailor Penis, I mean Venus." That greeting brought on a fit of giggles. It had been Michelle who pointed out one night that it sounded like Ayaka Komatsu, the actress who played the character that Michelle was dressed as, was saying 'Penis Power' instead of 'Venus Power'. I guess that is why she decided on dressing up like Sailor Venus. "Good morning Sailor Jupiter," I greeted Lori. "Good morning Sailor Moon," I said to Traci and instead of a kiss on the cheek, I gave her a long French kiss. "Good morning Tuxedo Master," they all greeted me in unison after Traci and I had broken our kiss. I walked over to the foyer and said, "Good morning Mrs. Hunigton," and I gave Pollyanna's mother a kiss on the cheek. "Morning Chad. Looks like you got yourself quite a collection of sailors," said a grinning Mrs. Hunington. "And am I to guess that the beautiful woman standing in front of me had something to do with it?" Mrs. Hunington let out a small snort. "Marge and Pollyanna warned me about you, you are quite the charmer. Yes, I did have a small hand in it. The girls have been coming by our place to work on their costumes. Back when I lived in the commune, I made all my clothes. I still make an occasional dress or two for Polly and me. Now the tuxedo and top hat we ended up getting from a thrift shop. All the wigs we had to buy from a costume shop. The girls were insistent that the hair colors had to be just right." "You did a fantastic job. You could make a lot of money making costumes like these for certain people." "Thanks Chad. I had fun making them. It was well worth it just seeing how excited it made the girls." Mrs. Hunington ended up driving Rose, Michelle and her daughter to school and Lori followed them. We all met up in the parking lot and made our big entrance into the school. A couple of the anime club members saw us and cheered. I swore we had the best costumes in the school and I held that belief until I got to my locker and saw Chuck. Chuck turned around when he heard me let out a Russian curse. He grinned at a laughing Traci and me and did a little pirouette. I had just about composed myself when Fran arrived. I actually fell to my knees laughing and Traci had to grab my shoulder from joining me on the ground. Standing in front of us were the Johnson twins. Chuck had applied makeup to lighten his skin to the point where it matched Fran's tan. He wore a blond wig and a baggy sweatshirt, the one that Fran always seemed fond of wearing. Where he differed from his sister's usual apparel was he was wearing a miniskirt and the biggest set of platform boots I had ever seen. They actually made him a foot taller than his usual height. Fran was wearing black face to match Chuck's usual skin pigment and wore a dreadlock wig. She had on his 'Full Metal Panic' sweatshirt with what I guessed was a pillow or two underneath. While there was nothing she could really do to make herself shorter, it was obvious who she was. When I finally composed myself, I was surprised not as the sight of the two of them did faze many people. I got my answer when John Kawano walked by and commented Traci and me on our costumes. He seemed to be oblivious to Chuck and Fran appearance and I asked him about it. "Well, I guess it might have been funny the first half dozen times they showed up to school like that. I was told they had been doing that since first grade," he answered. I looked at the Johnson twins and they were nodding and grinning. Mike continued on, "It gets even more twisted; they attend each other classes and will only answer to their siblings name." "Last year, I had to be escorted from the boy's locker room," said a grinning 'Chuck'. 'Fran' snorted, "At least you got that far! The girls wouldn't even let me into theirs." 'Fran' then added, "And because of a certain sibling whom I won't name, I had to buy a new pair of stockings because they had to go out and get a tan." I do not know if it was the image of Chuck shopping around the women's department looking for the right shade of stocking or if it was the idea of Fran dressed up as Chuck being escorted out of the guy's locker room that caused me to break out laughing again, but I did. I could not stop laughing as I saw 'Fran' walk away. I guess wearing twelve inch platforms once a year does not make one an expert. By lunchtime, not all of the girls had seen Chuck and Fran so I pointed them out. 'Chuck' was eating lunch with the anime group and 'Fran' was hanging out with her usual group. Their friends all took it in stride, treating them as if they were really the sibling that they were pending to be. Lori had joined our table for the day and filled those who did not hear to story about what had happened at the P.E. department the previous year. It turned out that Lori was one of the girls who had to hold back 'Fran' from going into the locker room. I later found out that the teachers were prepared that year for the Johnson Twins. In every single class they had, they had pop quizzes. It was not bad for Fran because Chuck was an honors student and had aced her quizzes. Chuck on the other hand had to struggle for the rest of the semester to erase the damage his sister did to his class standings. ------- It was the first Wednesday in November that I thought about staying home sick. I did not get much sleep because I was glued to the television the night before or listening to Air America when the news would not change. I knew in a couple of weeks that I was going to have to stay home sick, so I decided not to press my luck. It was easy for Rose to detect my sour mood, and she let me eat my breakfast in silence. I kept reviewing what had happened the previous day, and kept drawing the same conclusions. The polls going into the election and the exit polls all said one thing, but the vote count said another. There was a slim chance that the challenger could still win, but it was pretty much certain that the current administration was going to stay in power. I knew in the past that the CIA had been responsible for influencing elections in some third world countries, sometimes for the sole purpose of commence, but I doubted they were involved in this one. I would have felt more certain that the election had been fair if there was an actual paper trail. It was just too easy to manipulate a machine, especially when the owner of the company of the machine said they would do everything in their power to guarantee a victory for a candidate. When we rode to school, Traci laid her hand on top of mine. It brought a weak smile to my face as I slipped back into my thoughts. One of the final reasons why I left the CYA was my frustration of having to answer to people who did not seem to have the good of the people on their mind when they made decisions. Twice, both the military and CIA had drawn out plans to capture or assassinate a known terrorist leader, and both times the plan was shot down because it would weaken the nejas position on invading a foreign power. It was at during lunchtime that word had gotten out that the challenger had conceded. I could not believe more people thought we were better off keeping the same group in power. I decided that it must be easier to be ignorant rather than knowing what was truly going on. I swore right then that I would not listen to Air America and National Public Radio, or even watch the national news again. From now on, I would only get my news from JapanTV and a few of the other international channels. After coming to that conclusion, I seemed to snap out of the funk I was in. I think the girls noticed it because they told me that in four years, all of us would have the power to vote, and we would make sure to use it wisely. The thing was we lived in a state that had overwhelmingly voted for the right person, but I kept my mouth shut. It was better to have hope in the future than wallow in the present. Traci was waiting for me outside the dance studio before the start of sixth period. When she saw me walking towards the door, she moved to intercept me and grabbed my hand. Wordlessly, she started to walk in the opposite direction. When the warning bell rung, students started to scurry to get to class to avoid being tardy. Traci glanced around making sure there were no teachers about and dragged me into a girl's bathroom. "Traci, what do you... ?" I started to ask. "Shut up," my girlfriend told me. Traci guided me to an empty stall and quickly locked the door. She had me face her and then sunk to her knees. She hurriedly undid my pants, letting them drop down to my ankles. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me," Traci mumbled, and with that, she wrapped her soft right hand around the base of my cock and took began to lick along the underside of my stiffening penis. I was not erect when I entered the stall, but I doubt I was not fully hard in less than a minute after Traci started to suck my cock. She took the head of my manhood into her sweet mouth, and ran her tongue around the tip as she gently began sucking on it. She then started to slowly bob up and down on it, gradually letting my cock go deeper and deeper into her mouth. I reached up and grabbed the top of the stall, partly to hold my balance as I felt my legs start to tremble with anticipation. Traci used her left hand to gently fondle my balls and the sound of her slurping echoed throughout the empty restroom. Traci had sucked me enough times now that she could tell when I was close to reaching orgasm. As she felt me tense up, she bobbed her head a couple more times on my shaft and began to apply suction in earnest. She greedily sucked down my seed and after she was sure I had released my last spurt, she became to clean my cock with her mouth. When she was positive that I was well clean, she looked up at me and smiled. "Have you forgotten about the election?" my girlfriend asked, a drop of sperm sliding down from the corner of her mouth. Election? There had been an election? Who won? Who cares I thought to myself. The only thing that mattered in this world was kneeling in front of me on the floor of the girl's restroom. The only future I had to worry about was the one that I would build with my girl. I helped her to her feet, took my fingertip and gathered up the stray sperm. Traci saw that she had missed a drop, and she took my fingertip into her mouth, sucking my finger clean. She turned to unlock the bathroom door when I spun her back to face me. I gave her a deep kiss, trying to convey how much I loved her, and appreciated what she just did for me. I reached down and squeezed her wonderfully tight ass, then making sure I had a good grip; I lifted her up and spun around, something rather difficult in such cramped quarters, especially with my pants still around my ankles. She tried to protest through my kiss as I begun to undo her pants with one hand while holding her to me with the other. When I had unfastened her pants button and unzipped her zipper, I released her and using both hands, guided her pants down her legs. I then reached up and slid down her underwear. I had her step out of one pants leg and guided her to the edge of the toilet while I sank down to my knees. The girl's restroom tiles were cold, especially since my pants were still around my ankles, and my knees were making direct contact with the floor. I do not know how much of Traci's wetness was due to excitement from doing what we were doing in a public place, and at that moment, I did not care. All that I wanted was to return the favor of what my girl did for me. I rested my hands on top of her parted thighs and pressed my face to the source of her nectar. I began slowly running my tongue through the center of her sex, slurping her juices. She was running her fingers through my hair when she and I froze because we heard somebody come in. It turned out that it was actually two girls that came in. They were chuckling over something one of them had said. They were quite for a moment before there was the sound of a lighter being lit. After a few seconds, there were a couple of exhales. Even through the smell of the girl's bathroom and the wonderful smell of my Traci, I could tell that the girls were smoking cigarettes. I was tempted to stop what I was doing and join them, but two things stopped me. One, it was not the weekend, and two they were smoking menthol. Now, if it were regular Camel Wides, I would have been really torn, but I think I had grown addicted to a better substance, and its source was right under my lips. I began my assault anew on Traci's pussy. At first, she started to pull on my hair, trying to get me to stop, but I had undergone far more painful forms of torture in the past, and it hardly registered to me what she was doing. She then let go with one of her hands and began unrolling toilet paper. After she had a large handful, she stuffed it into her mouth, biting down on it to prevent making any noises. Even with toilet paper in her mouth, she let out a small moan as I began to suck on her clit. She was trying everything to keep quiet while I began to slurp my girlfriend's juices loudly. We heard a couple giggles when the two smokers left the restroom and one had said something about "a couple of dykes". I do not know about Traci, but I liked to think of myself as a lesbian trapped in a man's body. Traci had been on the edge of her orgasm when the two girls came into the restroom, so as soon as they left, she let herself go over. As she came, her spasms and jerks had an unforeseen consequence; she actually jerked back her arm and accidentally flushed the toilet. The surprise of it flushing caused her to bolt up, knocking me back on my ass. We both chuckled while I tried not to think about when had been the last time that the janitor had mopped the floor. Traci took the wadded tissue paper from her mouth and cleaned herself up; taking care of the few places my mouth had failed to gather her sweet nectar. Traci left the stall first, making sure the coast was clear. She also double-checked to make sure no one was around before I left the restroom. "We could always skip dance class," my girlfriend said, hinting that we could occupy the time doing something more fun. "Not a chance. We're doing modern and we have water polo practice," I replied. Modern dance was by far my favorite form of dance. I had been a little miffed when Traci had lead me away from the classroom since it was something that I had been looking forward to since I came out of my funk at lunch. I realized on our way back to class that having your girlfriend suck your cock in a girl's high school restroom put Martha Graham's form of dance in a distant second when it came to priorities. Since class was halfway over and we had missed the stretching portion of it, Traci and I had to sit in the back and watch as Ms. McCann led the rest of the class through some exercises. When she began to teach the routine that we would have know for our quiz, I stood up and went through the motions that she was teaching, trying to commit them to memory. Traci saw what I was doing and followed suit. When class was over, Traci and I approached Ms. McCann to apologize for missing the first half of class. She accepted our apology and asked that we try to make it to class on time. We told her we would, and then left the dance studio, holding hands. "You sure you don't want to skip practice?" asked Traci. I grinned at her. She and I both knew that with our promotion to Varsity that missing practice was not an option, especially the day before a game. Coach Walters had a rule that if you missed practice without a valid excuse, then you do not play in the next game. The girls on the team could always claim 'feminine issues' as an excuse, but I doubted Coach Walters would let me slide if I told him I was on my period. Even then, he would make those who could not be in the pool stay and watch practice. I gave my girl friend a hug when we reached the locker rooms and told her I would see her in the pool. ------- The Varsity water polo team actually won our conference and we made it through to the fourth round of the California Interscholastic Federation playoffs before we lost. We put all our effort into the game, but the lack of being a cohesive unit, and loosing so many starters, finally caught up to us, and we lost to a much stronger squad. It was a tight game, and Fran did her best to block all the shots, but their goalie was like a solid wall, and the final score was 0-2. The next week, there was a banquet for both the Junior and Varsity squads, and awards were handed out. I still received the JV highest scorer award even though I got bumped up to Varsity halfway through the season. Actually, they had an award for just about everybody on the Junior Varsity squad, be it for best goalie, Fran of course; to most improved, Vince Swanson. The surprise of the evening was when Coach Walters called Traci, Fran, Greg and me up to the stage. "As you all are well aware of, this year we had a problem with some of our players following the Athletic Code. While the direct impact of their actions would never be known on how we would have done this season, we would have been greatly hurt if it was not for these four players. They were shoved into the task of having to raise their game, to learn to work with a whole new set of teammates, and to learn a whole new set of plays. They performed beyond my wildest expectations and I can say with certainty that we would not have even gotten into CIF if it wasn't for these four." The room erupted into applause and he shook our hands and presented us with school letters. I thought we had to be on the squad all year long to receive letters, but it turned out that with the extra games we played during the CIF playoffs as well as the circumstances surrounding our sudden advancement, we had done enough to earn them. "You have to get a letterman's jacket," my girlfriend told me. We had not even taken more than five steps outside of the banquet when Traci made that statement. "Why?" I asked her. "So I can wear it," she answered. "That's silly, you can get your own jacket since you also have a letter," I pointed out to her. "I don't care, I want to wear yours." I gave a puzzling look at Lori, but she just suppressed a giggle as the three of us walked to her car. It seemed that the way the guys branded their women in school were to have them wear their jackets. The practice seemed rather barbaric to me, that it was a form of warning off others to stay away from their women, and as I was about to tell her that I would think about it, Traci whipped out her cell phone, and she began to call her friends with the latest news. Traci even sat up in the passenger seat to prevent me from silencing her. Since the banquet was held at the school, it was a short trip back to the house. Even then I think Lori exceeded the speed limit when possible to make the ride even faster. We left Traci sitting in the car after we pulled into the Caspars' driveway. I guessed she figured we would get on her case about talking so much on the phone. She had figured correctly. I ended up chatting with Lori for about ten minutes when we heard the door open. Thinking it was Traci, we both stood up from the couch, where we had been sitting, and turned to the door to find a puzzled Marge coming home from work. "Why is Traci sitting in your car talking on the..." Marge had started to ask her oldest daughter when the phone rang. Marge picked up the phone and after a couple second pause said, "Traci Lovett Caspar, if you want to talk to me, you can just come inside instead of calling me from thirty feet away!" I doubted ten seconds elapsed from Marge hanging up before Traci bounded into the house telling her mom that she and I had earned letters. As she began her spiel, starting from when the three of us had arrived at the banquet, I walked over and gave Traci a kiss on the temple. She shot me a quick smile, but continued talking while Lori and Marge bid me goodnight as I slipped out the door. "Congratulations on your letter," Rose greeted me when I entered my home. "Goddess, she called you too?" I asked. "When are you going to learn that when Traci has some exciting news, she has to tell everyone? I was surprised though, I was only on the phone with her for a few minutes this time." "I think I know that answer to that. Marge came home so of course she had to call her instead of coming inside and tell her," I explained. "I think when Traci was born; the doctor spanked her on the bottom not to make her cry, but to keep her from reaching his cell phone. She still keeps bugging me for my new number." After Rose had been kicked out of her house, it was not long after that her mother had canceled her cell phone service. I had gone down with her to K-Mart to buy a prepaid cell phone. Of course, she kept insisting that she did not need one, or if she did, she would pay for it. I informed her that it was for my benefit that she had one, just in case she was at the market and I wanted her to pick something up. In the end, I ended up paying for the phone, and she paid for the minutes. I had to fight the urge to provide false information when they needed to know the address to activate the phone. I was trying to build a life, not hide in the shadows, but in the end, I still transposed the house number when I gave them the info. "Well, at least she learned her lesson and stopped bugging me," I grinned. My statement brought a chuckle from the redhead. A few days prior, Traci was showing off my ability to recall people's phone numbers. After having me recite Michelle's, Lori's, and Pollyanna's phone number, she thought she could trick me. "What's Rose's number?" she asked. I did not need to see Rose's look at surprise when I answered. I knew that it was Rose's number that Traci was after, ever since she began playing the little game. I said, "Easy, 767-2676." My beloved did not even hesitate for a second after I said the last digit before whipping out her cell phone, and dialing the phone number I had just recited. So intent on dialing, Traci did not see the bemused look at Rose's face. The number I gave Traci was not Rose's. Traci glanced over at Rose, wondering why Rose's cell was not ringing after she dialed the number. By that time, Rose was able to put on a decent poker face, and betrayed nothing. Traci's face was another story altogether. It went from puzzlement, to surprise, then quickly to anger and disgust. She ended her call and spun to me. "Why the hell do you have THAT number memorized?" Traci demanded. I shrugged and said, "Sometimes I get lonely at night and want to talk to somebody." Fuming she told me, "You are going to stay lonely if you call that number EVER again." I nodded and said, "As you wish." I knew I was in the doghouse because she ignored my coded 'I love you' response. I was surprised myself when I first saw that number in the back of the New Times, a free weekly newspaper. I never knew that there was a phone sex line that had two teenage nymphomaniac lesbian sisters, who were looking for somebody to punish them for being naughty. I had never called the number before, but from Traci's reaction, it must have been rather graphic greeting. Rose broke me from my reverie by asking me when I was going to be getting my letterman's jacket. I let out a groan and said, "I'll see her in the morning. If you want to get any sleep, then turn off the ringer on the phone." ------- Chapter 12 When I woke up on the third Monday in November, I altered my morning routine. After I had finished getting dressed, I started doing pushups. I kept doing them until I had worked up a good sweat. A quick glance in the bedroom mirror confirmed that I was rather flushed; I then headed to the kitchen. "Morning, Rose," I greeted her, rather weakly. Rose was bringing a skillet of eggs and hash to the table in the breakfast nook, when she saw me. The skillet hit the table with a very solid thump as she hurried over to me to ask, "Chad, are you okay? You look awful." I replied, "Not feeling so well. I got a little peckish last night so I had some curry and rice for a midnight snack." Rose frowned. "It's been over three weeks since we had curry. I could have sworn we had eaten it all." Sheepishly, I admitted, "I had put some of the leftover in an empty yogurt container and I hid it towards the back of the fridge. I kinda forgot about it until I stumbled across it during my raid." I sat down at the table and started to eat breakfast. As I ate, I noticed Rose steal glances at me. I had half my plate cleared when I suddenly stood up and bolted from the table. Since the half-bath next to the laundry room was closest to the kitchen, I ran in there. I kept the door open, and an eye towards the doorway, when I stuck my finger down my throat. After I had regurgitated my breakfast, I wiped down the toilet with some tissue paper and flushed. By the time I was finished, Rose was in the doorway. "You're not going to be going to school, are ya?" asked Rose. "I don't think so, at least, not for the morning classes. Maybe if I took a nap, I might feel better." "Maybe I should stay home and look after you." I shook my head and told her, "No. I'll be fine. Anyhow, part of the condition of you living here was that you attend school unless it was an emergency. I doubt me having a stomach virus constitutes as one. Tell Lori and Traci that I'm just feeling a little under the weather, and tell Traci if she tries to stay home to look after me, I'll spank her. Then tell Lori that does not apply to her, because I know she would enjoy it too much." Rose smiled at what I said, but I could see a look of concern in her eyes. After reassuring her that I would be fine, she left the house -- but only after I promised to call her cell phone if I started to feel worse. I headed to the living room, laid down on the sofa, and watched some of the stuff that the DVR had recorded for me while I waited. It was a quarter past nine when the doorbell rang. Ayako was just about to set down a wrapped box when I opened the front door. She stood up and, with a look of surprise, said, "Chad! I thought for sure I had missed you." Feigning surprise myself, I replied, "Ayako! What the heck are you doing here? You're a long way from San Jose. Oh, I wasn't feeling too hot this morning. Food poisoning, I think. Come on in." "Well, if it is only a stomach bug, I think you can hug your old neighbor." I gave her a warm hug, and as Ayako walked in, her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID, rolled her eyes, and answered it. "Hi, mom. Yeah, I finally made it to Chad's. I thought for sure, because of the traffic jam that I hit, I would miss him, but he was home sick from school. Oh? Sure, I have my schedule on my PDA. I know that the casting call is at one o'clock. Let me hook up my hands-free." Ayako asked me to give her a tour of the place while she went over her schedule with her mom. After she had the hands-free hooked up to the cell phone, she whipped out her PDA from her purse and started going through appointments that she had. She insisted on seeing every room, and I felt slightly guilty when we went into Rose's room. It was odd, since privacy was never an issue at the Compound, because we had grown up with none. It was only after I left that I finally understood how important it was to people. After looking at all of the rooms, she reminded me that she had not seen the basement yet. She warned her mom that she might lose the signal so they had better end the call. She asked her mom to check with the casting director if it would be possible to show up by two o'clock, and just to leave it on her voicemail if she was unable to answer the phone. Ayako kept the PDA out when we descended down into the basement. "Whoa! It is cooler than what you described in your e-mails. I didn't think they made homes in California with basements. I can totally see this place being a dungeon." Ayako walked around the room, looking at some of the stuff I had started collecting for my dungeon. Her phone rang, and it was her mom saying that two o'clock was fine. She ended the call and removed the hands-free. Ayako announced, "The house is clean. No sign of bugs. The basement's feed is cut for the next fifteen minutes just in case somebody is tapping into our monitoring." "What? Clandestine Youth Agency is monitoring little old me?" Ayako snorted. She knew that I knew that THEY knew that I knew that the monitoring was being sent back to the Compound. She walked over to the weight bench in the corner of the basement and sat down on it. "Hell, I'm one of the ones who has to review the feeds. Mind you, it's 'Must See TV'," she grinned as she said it. I rolled my eyes and replied, "I'm glad that you find my life entertaining." "Actually, it is a good case-study. You're the first to leave and be on your own. Ben and I will have to make a decision in a couple of years if we want to leave, as well. I'm leaning towards moving to the CIA, while he is thinking of FBI." "Where is Ben?" I asked, knowing that Ayako hardly went into the field without her partner. Ben and Ayako were the first set of 2's. "He's driving around the neighborhood, checking for microwaves or other suspicious signals." The windows on the house were treated with a special film that prevented microwave receivers from listening in. The problem with the spy game was that as soon as you come up with something to counter something, a counter-counter something appears. The basement was still the safest place in the house to be having the conversation. "Well, I hope he doesn't get a DWB." Ayako gave me a puzzled look, so I explained the 'Driving While Black' joke that Chuck had told me. "Ah, he must have told you that outside of the house. We are only monitoring the house feeds." Ayako's statement did not reassure me that I was not being watched outside of the house. If they were, of course, they would say that they were not. Ayako, who had the same training as me, could tell what I was thinking. "Baka yaro, think about it. You think the CYA would spend that many man-hours, and risk so much possible exposure, on active surveillance of a single agent? Hell, think about it from a financial standpoint. They would have to buy another safe house, and have it manned for at least the next three years until you graduated high school. That's best-case scenario, since they told you that you could use this house until you completed your twenty years. It would have to be done in-house; we can't farm it out to the FBI, because the more people that knows about the CYA, the greater the chance of being discovered." I took her me calling an idiot bastard in Japanese in stride and asked, "Any concern for the full sweep?" Ayako shook her head. "We lost the feed for a couple of times last week for three minutes and two minutes. Both times, you were in the house, so we doubted there would have been a chance for somebody to insert a monitoring device." I nodded. There had been a heavy rainstorm last week, and I am sure the cloud cover must have interrupted the satellite signal. It was during my third week living there that I figured out my cable modem was just for show, and that the internet connection was actually via satellite. While the satellite dishes that were on the house appeared to be facing the correct satellites, I figured they were actually pointed at one of the many spy satellites that were in orbit. The government had forbidden it's spy agencies to use orbital photographic reconnaissance on the United States, but there was nothing that stated that communication satellites could not be used to transmit more ground-based video signals. It was during a think-tank session at the CYA that the idea of intercepting one of the commercial DBS feeds, and then rebroadcasting it using a spy orbiter, came up. All an agent would have to do would be jam the target's dish, intercept the repair call, alter the direction the dish was facing, and then plant an audio/video transmission device inside the satellite receiver, and nobody would be the wiser that they were connected to a government spy satellite. The dish would broadcast a feed to the satellite, which it would send back down to headquarters. The FBI had been doing a similar project with cable boxes for the past ten years. The drawback to satellite, though, was that the signal had to be rather tight and encrypted to prevent it from being intercepted and, if there was heavy cloud cover, it would cause havoc to the signal. I did not know when it had moved from conception phase to actual field use. "How's my 'sister'?" "Well, there are two candidates that could fill the role of your sister: Claudia or Candice. Claudia thinks she can put in another two years, at which time she can retire. Candice is part of an ABC group, and she has been able to utilize them for support. Both of them are getting counseling, and the CYA is hopeful that they won't choose to leave early. Anyway, how is being on the outside like?" "I've only been out for two months. You have gone in the field for longer stretches than that," I answered. "I was never naked before. I had CYA resources at my disposal. Plus, most of those field-ops were with Ben." "I seem to remember you being naked at some of the workshops," I said, winking. "Now, that is something that I don't miss: your stupid sense of humor. You knew what I meant. Speaking of workshops, we got a pool going on when you're actually going to do the deed, and with whom first." Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I said the first thing that popped into my mind, "Fuck you." Ayako grinned and said, "I guess Ben won the bet. He knew that I was going to be the Go-Between, so he listed me. Too bad; we just don't have enough time until the blackout ends. Speaking of time, we had better get through with the sensitive information, first. Currently, you are on leave. You have a few options available. You could come back full time and resume a different role at the CYA, and the past two months would be paid retroactively. You can choose to retire and leave the CYA for good, for which you would receive thirty percent of your last pay rate plus one percent for each complete year of service, which would be forty-four percent. Another option would be to become a Sleeper. You would receive half your pay, and every two years would count as one for determining your length of service and your pay schedule. Finally, you could always be a Stringer. Each job would be subject to negotiation, but you would be able to turn down any jobs you did not want to undertake. It should go without saying that there would be no wet jobs -- unless you have grown out of your pacifist phase?" "No, I'm still a pacifist. I think retirement is the best option. If I was either a Sleeper or did freelance work, it would increase the chances of my cover being blown, and I want to keep it as long as possible," I told Ayako. Ayako shrugged and said, "I'll pass that along. We'll keep a thousand a month split between your saving and checking accounts, and the additional twelve hundred will go into your offshore accounts. You're really worried about leaving her?" "I am. I have never experienced these emotions. When I am around Traci, I feel as light as a feather. Then, there are times I lie awake at night worrying that, if she ever found out the truth about me, that she would never want to see me again. Moreover, it is not just Traci; I have started to develop strong feelings of attachment with lots of people. I know friendship was discouraged in the Compound, but... I don't know. I doubt I can put it into words. I think I am actually feeling joy for the first time. The drawback is the sorrow and guilt. It's very strange." Ayako gave me a sad smile, and I wondered if she could ever understand what I was going through. She was lucky that she had Ben. As a pair, she was able to form a bond of companionship with him. I do not know if their feelings went as deep as the ones that I was feeling currently with Traci or not. "Now, I am going to need a list of contacts you have made outside of the house. We were able to access your school's computer, and we got a list of your classmates, teachers, and everybody on the water polo team. Can you think of anybody else we should run background checks on?" I ticked off a list of people that they might want to check out. Ayako entered them into the PDA, even though she possessed a near-photographic memory, like me. When she finished, she announced that we had just over a minute until the feed came back on. "How much is the pot up to?" I asked. "Fifteen thousand." I raised my eyebrows. Since just about all of our living expenses were paid for at the Compound, all of the agents had accrued pretty good nest eggs. There was some thought that the encouragement of hobbies had less to do with our sanity, and more about getting the money that the government paid us cycled back into the economy. A thousand dollars was a typical bet. "The first group of ABC's and 123's take turns reviewing the feeds and doing the background checks, since we twelve will be leaving first. Three of the instructors also got in on the action. FYI, Claudia listed herself and the time being January. We all know she is joking, because there is no way you can last until then." "Tell Chuck I want ten percent," I said, glancing to where the hidden camera was located. Ayako grinned and set down her PDA on the weight bench. She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse. I moved closer toward her, dropped my pants, and removed my shirt. She kept her head faced towards me, but her eyes were on the PDA. When she shifted her glance towards me, I knew the feed had reactivated. Ayako started to button her blouse, and I pulled up my pants. She said, "Chikishou, Chad! You have improved since Washington." Ayako was referring to a Honey Pot operation that I had worked with her on. There was a Senator who enjoyed watching orgies. There were two problems with that: the first being that the orgies involved preteens, while second was that a foreign power had found out about it. Since the FBI was reluctant about using civilians, the CYA was used as Ravens and Swallows, male and female prostitutes whose purpose was used to blackmail a target. After some rather damning video and photos involving us and the Senator, the FBI was able to confront him. They 'suggested' that he not run for a fourth term, and that the private sector was a better place for him. It worked, and the threat of a possible spy on the Intelligence Committee was diverted. I retorted, "That was six years ago, and I was only nine. I think I have grown a little since then." "I'll say! Ben is going to be wondering why I am walking funny when I see him. Next time, use some lube if you're going to take my ass." I almost lost control when Ayako said that, but I was able to reply, "You didn't complain the last time I did it." "I guess a nine-year-old dick in a thirteen-year-old asshole is a lot different than a fifteen-year-old dick in a nineteen-year-old asshole." After we finished getting dressed, we headed out of the basement. Ayako played the part by indeed walking as if she just had received a load up the ass. I told her that we needed to stop by the bedroom; she was a little wary when I told her I had something to give her; however, when I headed towards the desk in the corner, she instantly knew what I wanted rid off. She positioned herself so that she was between the camera and me as I retrieved the disassembled Glock. I quickly put it together and slid it into her purse. We both were fairly certain that the feeds were not being intercepted, but it was always best to operate as if they were. "Cool. I'll pass this on to Mom. I better hit the road so I can make my audition. It was great seeing you, Chad!" I walked Ayako to her car, and she even winced when she sat down. I almost busted out laughing right there, but was barely able to control myself. With a wink, she drove off. It was when she had turned the corner and left my sight that I realized that I missed some aspects of being at the Compound. In the short time that I was able to be around Ayako, I was able to drop my cover and be myself. For the thousandth time, I debated about telling Traci about my past. Every scenario I ran in my head told me that it was the wrong thing to do, but my heart kept saying it was the right thing. When I went back inside the house, I had planned on going to school, but the wrapped box that Ayako had left me caught my eye. I assumed it was an omiyage, a gift that a person brings when visiting someone else's home, and I was slightly disappointed after I unwrapped it only to discover it was a box of chocolates. Puzzled, because Ayako should have remembered that I did not really care for chocolate, I started to set the box down when I decided I might as well try one. A grin erupted across my face when I discovered that there was not an ounce of chocolate inside. Ayako had removed the chocolates and replaced them with packs of Camel Wides. I had smoked the last cigarette from my initial stash on Saturday night, and had to endure thirty-five hours without one. No wonder Ayako had been quick to leave: if I had known what she had brought me, I would have insisted on making our little deception actual fact!! The November sumo tournament had started the night before, so I decided a couple more hours of missing school would not lead to the end of the world. I opened the front and back doors to create a cross draft to hide my nefarious deed. Rose might not mind me smoking in my house, but I would catch hell from Traci if she found out I had stayed home smoking instead of going to school. Water polo had ended, and I had not signed up for any winter sports, but Traci still wanted the athletic code enforced -- when it came to my smoking, at least. She did not care if I drank alcohol, but my smoking was still restricted to the weekend. I doubted my weak excuse (I was just catching up, since I had not smoked Sunday) would work on her. It hardly worked on me. ------- Chapter 13 "Did you just say you needed a cobbler?" Traci asked me. I was surprised that I had said my thought aloud. I had noticed that my defenses around Traci had been dropping some over the past couple of months, and this was not the first time I had slipped. I wondered if it was a subconscious effort on my part, trying to blow my cover so that I would be forced to confess my past. However, her knowing my past could only do harm and not good, so I quickly came up with a plausible answer. "Yeah, I think the heel of one of my dress shoes is loose." She shrugged and went back to reading her book. I made a mental note to throw out a pair of dress shoes to keep up the ruse. The 'cobbler' that I had been thinking about was a person who specialized in forging documents. What I needed was a 'shoe', a passport. I knew of several cobblers in Europe and the Middle East, as well as some in the States, but the closest one was in Los Angeles. Along with the distance, another problem would be explaining how I knew where to find one. Perhaps I had better explore all of the legal routes, first. After Traci went home, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, went to the master bedroom, paused briefly in the walk-in closet to pry one of the shoes' heels loose, and then did my evening routine. I had some questions I wanted to ask Rose so, after returning the knife, I slipped on a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt, then headed up to her room. I knocked gently and, after a brief moment, Rose told me to come in. Rose was wearing pajamas and already in bed. It appeared that she had been reading a novel, so I asked if it was okay if I asked her a few questions. She shrugged and said sure. I sat down at the foot of her bed, and turned to face her. "Do you have a passport?" I think that, of all of the questions she was expecting me to ask, that was the furthest from her mind. She nodded and said, "Yeah, I do. Well, actually, Mom has my passport." "Where does she keep it?" I asked her. "At the bank in our, I mean HER, safety deposit box." "I guess you don't have the key, do you?" "No. Mom keeps it in her jewelry box," Rose answered. I shifted my gaze from her, and started to plan how to obtain the passport. It would require a black bag operation, and the fewer 'plumbers', the better. I would need a driver and somebody who could pass as Mrs. Goodrich. I thought I could talk Mike Richards into being the driver for when I broke into Mrs. Goodrich's house. I could make an impression of the key and create the copy myself. I was going to have to observe Rose's mom's behavior before I could consider somebody to pass as her... I realized Rose had said something, and I had missed it. I turned to her and asked if she could repeat what she had just said. "Oh, it was nothing. I was just saying that I got the passport when I was eight. Mom started doing her missionary work, then, and would take me down to South America during the summers. I wasn't able to go last summer because I had summer school, though." I did not know if it was a good thing that my defenses were dropping or not, but Rose saw the look of relief on my face. She frowned slightly, and she wanted to know why I had wanted to know about her having a passport. "Maybe I'm getting wise and plan to dump Traci and marry my maid. Just thinking of where we could go on our honeymoon." She rolled her eyes at me and wanted to know the truth. It is a great deal easier telling the truth than keeping track of a lie. I knew there was no harm in letting Rose in on my plan. I knew that she could keep a secret very well. After all, she was able to conceal her sexuality for the past couple of years, and she had yet to mention to anybody else where the entrance to the basement was. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise me that you will keep it between the two of us." After she nodded, I continued, "I want to take Traci, Lori, and Marge someplace for Spring Break. I would also like it if you could come along, as well." Well, it was mostly the truth. I had left out a couple of details, like who else might be joining us. Rose immediately wanted to know where, and I told her she could find out on Christmas. She gave a small pout and said that she would just die before then. "Curiosity killed the cat," I told her. She replied, "But satisfaction brought it back." "Well, I thought it was going to be an ordeal to get your passport back, but it turns out that it has expired, since you got it when you were eight. Minors' passports only last for five years. Luckily, now you're over fourteen, so you can apply for it yourself. You will need a certified birth certificate, identification card, and sometimes they require parental consent, but we can cross that bridge when we reach it." "Mom still has my birth certificate." I detected the bitterness in her voice when she mentioned her mom, but pretended not to notice. Instead, I asked, "Where were you born?" "Santa Barbra." Santa Barbra was in the adjacent county to the south, and it was just about an hour and half drive. The only problem was that it would require missing school, since the County Clerk's Office was not open on the weekends. It would cost more to do the request over the internet, but I would rather spend the extra cash than have me, Rose, and whomever I could convince to give us a ride down there miss school. "Meet me in the library at lunch, and we can order it online. When the others ask where we were, we can tell them we were having a nooner." It took a second for Rose to figure out what I meant, then she pointed out, "You're the wrong gender for me." I assured her, "My tongue is just as good, if not better, than Pollyanna's." "Prove it!" Rose let out a squeal when I started to crawl up her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and did not bring them back down until she felt me get off the bed. When I saw her, I was unable to tell if her blush was from embarrassment or sexual excitement. She tensed slightly when I moved towards her again, but she allowed me to give her a peck on her forehead when she realized that's all I was going to do. I told her, "I'll see you in the morning." When I returned to my room, I was tempted into enabling the feeds and watching what might be transpiring in Rose's room. That only lasted for a moment before guilt washed over me for even considering that. It then got really strange when I felt glad that I was feeling guilty. Could it mean that I was becoming more like a normal person, and not the drone that I was before? ------- It took less than ten minutes to complete the request for the birth certificate. It would have been faster if Rose had not misplaced her social security number. I had told her that we would need it before we left for school, and that it was on the attendance sheets, so any of her teachers could tell her. She had gotten the required information, written it down on a piece of scrap paper, and tossed it in her backpack. Rose kept the house well-cleaned and organized, but when it came to her backpack, it was another world unto itself. I was just about to suggest we go find one of her teachers when she recovered the elusive piece of paper. Of course, I had her number memorized, but I did not want to have to answer why. When we joined the rest of the girls, they naturally wanted to know where we had been. Everybody chuckled when Rose told them about us having a nooner, but Traci did give me a puzzled look. I had been expecting it, so I made sure that my gaze was focused somewhere else. Since we had planned to take care of the birth certificate during the first part of the lunch break, Rose had made me a sack lunch instead of me having to do my usual salad bar stop. As I ate, I was glad that the girls resumed the conversation that they were having before Rose and I joined them. By the time the bell rung, Traci seemed to have forgotten what she wanted to ask me. Only, Traci did remember what she wanted to ask, because I found her waiting to confront me about it at the dance studio. The second I got there, she pulled me aside and asked me what Rose and I had been doing over lunch. I told her it was between Rose and me. When she pressed on, I told her, "Curiosity killed the cat." "But satisfaction brought it back," she retorted. It was the second occurrence in my lifetime that I had heard that answer, and it was less than twenty-four hours since the first one. I made a mental note not to use that expression around the girls any more. I told her that it had nothing to do with her, and that I was just helping Rose with a little problem. It was not an outright lie, but it was not the honest truth. She finally let the matter go, but I only think it was because class had begun. After class, I thought Traci was going to pester me some more about what Rose and I had been doing at lunch; however, she surprised me, and inquired if I had canceled the anime club meeting for that coming Sunday. The guys had been disappointed when I told them there could not be a meeting when we ate lunch the previous day, but they quickly understood when I explained the reason why to them -- which I passed on to Traci. She hushed me before I could tell her more when she spotted Rose approaching us, and the three of us collected our books from the lockers and headed home. While Traci and I were finished with water polo, Lori always either still had cheerleading practice, or she had to attend the winter sports games, so Rose, Traci, and I would walk home together. We would wait until Lori got back so that the four of us could do our homework all together, usually watching the plasma or gossiping about the latest rumors at school. That day, when we entered my house, Traci grabbed my hand and started to drag me back to my room. Rose rolled her eyes and complained loudly, "I just changed his sheets. Traci, you better not mess them up too much." Traci shot back, "A good maid is a silent one. You should go be useful and clean something." My suspicions were confirmed, however, when Traci did not jump me when we entered the room but started to ask questions about Sunday. I told Traci I still needed a few more items to complete my project, but that Lori was going to drive me to a store that would have what I required. I asked Traci, "How's it going on your end?" Traci told me, "Mrs. Hunington will be taking Pollyanna and Rose to the late movie Saturday night, and Michelle and Jean will be coming over while those two are out." We spent the next half-hour going over what we still had to do and what we needed; Traci finally said we had better leave the bedroom before Rose grew suspicious. "I can last a lot longer than fifteen minutes." She countered, "You can barely last five minutes before you blow your load into my mouth." I said, "Prove it," but when she reached towards my crotch, I batted her hands away. She had been right, at least about Rose growing suspicious. As for my lasting power, I swore that next time I would use a stopwatch and prove her wrong. Traci and I went into the living room and watched a couple of programs that the DVR had recorded, and Rose joined us after she finished vacuuming the rooms upstairs. When Lori arrived, we moved to the dining room table and did our schoolwork. We kept at it until the pizza we had ordered arrived, then decided to put off the rest until later. While we were eating, Lori asked me, "After dinner, can you go over to Vicky Carson's place and help her set up her new home entertainment system?" Vicky was on the cheerleading squad with Lori, so I said, "Of course; I am always willing to go to a sexy cheerleader's house." I then quickly shoved down my last bite of my pizza and left the table before Traci took out her wrath on me. She knew that I was not going over to Vicky's house, but she could not let that comment pass without some form of punishment. Best Buy, the store that had what I needed, was twenty minutes away, and it only took ten minutes to get what I needed, so we got back to the Caspars' house in less than an hour. Lori helped me carry my purchases to her room, and I got to work. "I'm going to take off, just in case my car is spotted," Lori informed me. "Where you going?" I asked her. She answered, "Vicky actually did get a new system, so I'm going over there to check it out" I smiled as I nodded; better to hide a lie with a grain of truth. We had chosen Lori's room for my project, since it would be the least likely place for it to be discovered. After I finally had everything assembled and ran the few diagnostics I could, an hour had passed. I called Lori's cell to tell her I was done, and she told me that she would be back in ten minutes. When Lori came into her room, I told her to leave everything as it was; we would take care of moving it tomorrow night. We then returned next-door and joined Traci and Rose, who had started back up doing homework. After we were all done, it was a quarter to eleven, so we decided to call it a night. When I walked Traci and Lori to their door, Traci mentioned that she had five minutes to kill, and I gave her a swat on her cute little butt for that wisecrack. Lori started to ask what was going on, but thought better of it. I gave my girlfriend's sister a hug and a kiss on a cheek, thanking her for her help, and I gave my girlfriend a long kiss. When I broke the kiss, I gave her another swat on the other cheek. "What was that for?" asked Traci. I smugly informed her, "Balance." ------- Saturday proceeded pretty much as normal. Mrs. Hunington picked up Pollyanna and Rose at six. They were going to do some shopping at the mall, and they would get a bite to eat there before their movie. Rose had wanted to cook us something for supper before she left, but we told her that we could fend for ourselves. As soon as the girls left, Traci called Michelle and told her the coast was clear. Jean had picked her up a few hours before, and the two of them returned twenty minutes after Traci's call. During that time, I went next door and began retrieving my project from Lori's room, moving it to its new home. Lori suggested that she could pick up some Chinese takeout, since it was along the way of where she needed to go. We agreed and, after she took our orders, she left. We had just about finished setting up when Lori returned with her purchase and the food. We took our time eating, since we had plenty of time until the girls returned. After we finished dinner, we completed what still needed to be done, and I called Mrs. Hunington to make sure everything was on schedule. After the third time calling her 'Mrs. Hunington', she said that made her sound old, and that I could call her Irene. As I was talking to her, the doorbell rang, so Traci answered it. I looked over to see a man in his mid-fifties wearing a business suit enter the foyer. He was holding a wrapped gift and had his long, grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, so I took a guess and asked him if he wanted to talk to his wife. He grinned and thanked me when I handed the phone off to him. I think it was the Birkenstocks that he was wearing that put the final nail in the coffin. The thought about coffin nails drew me to the backyard, where I discovered Jean had beaten me out there. After I lit up, the two of us talked, mostly about the weather. Even though it was the first Saturday in December, it was pleasant outside, somewhere in the mid-sixties. I marveled at the Californian weather, and considered myself blessed that I would not have to deal with snow or the effects that it caused. I felt sorry for those poor saps that had to deal with frozen car doors, especially when said doors would become frozen when they were in the car. Mr. Hunington came out to joined us, and I got a chance to finally introduce myself properly to him. "Hi, I'm Chad Johnson. Thanks for coming," I said to him, holding out my hand. "Geoffrey Hunington, Pollyanna's dad, but you already guessed that," he said as he firmly shook my hand. "Nice place you got here." "Thank you, Mr. Hunington. Pollyanna mentioned that she was unsure if you were going to make it or not." "Please, call me Geoff. I'm not much for formalities. Yeah, I just flew back from D.C. I'm afraid that, because of my work, I have to travel quite a bit," explained Geoff. "What line of work are you in?" I inquired. "Environmental lawyer." Jean and Geoff had a good chuckle when I said, "Sounds like you are guaranteed lots of work, at least for the next four years." My little comment let to a brief discussion on politics and, when Geoff pulled out a pipe and a tobacco pouch, I arched my eyebrow at him. Geoff chuckled, and he assured me, "It's just pipe tobacco. I never really cared much for pot, and when Pollyanna was born, that pretty much nipped it in the bud." I instantly grew fond of Geoffrey Hunington at that clever turn of phrase. People who enjoyed bad puns often found kinship among one another. The three of us chatted until Michelle came out to chastise her mother. Traci soon followed behind her, and I got the same lecture as Marge, so we snuffed out our cigarettes and headed back inside. Since Geoff did not have a daughter or significant other currently in the house, he was allowed to enjoy his smoke. With the blackout curtains closed, the house was completely dark when Rose walked into the house just after midnight. She stepped back and let out a scream when everybody jumped out from our hiding places and hollered "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROSE!" Rose stood there stunned for a few seconds, her brain trying to take in everything. Pollyanna walked up behind Rose, and she wrapped her arms around the shocked birthday girl. Irene Hunington filed in past her daughter and her daughter's girlfriend to join the rest of us. We all saw the tears begin to well up in Rose's eyes and then slide down her cheeks. I had a sneaky suspicion that this might have been the first time somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to celebrate her birthday. Once again, I agreed with Jean: Mrs. Goodrich was indeed a kun heeat. It took a few minutes for Rose to compose herself, and after she did, everybody went up to her and gave her a hug, wishing her a happy birthday. I had not been paying too much attention, so I was unsure if she hugged everyone as hard as she did me. I hoped not; otherwise, some of the girls might have ended up with broken ribs. Escorted into the living room, Rose was able to fully see how much decorating had been done in her absence. Rose was still in a state of shock, so it took a couple of times of asking her if she wanted to open presents first or to eat cake and ice cream. She finally spoke her first words since entering the house, and shakily said "Cake and ice cream, please." She had to be forced back down when she started to stand to go help in the kitchen. I said to her, "For the next twenty-four hours, you are the birthday girl and not a maid." She gave me a weak smile, and nodded. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers when the cake was brought in with lit candles. Lori had done the reconnaissance work, checked out the local bakeries for us, and was able to find one that could do what we had wanted. The cake was in the shape of a rose, and it looked beautiful. Written upon it was, 'To our adorable Rose, Happy Birthday'. She blew out the candles after we sung Happy Birthday to her, and she joked that it was too beautiful to have to cut up. Rose's favorite ice cream was Rocky Road so, of course, that is what we had. The mood was so good that I did not even care that it was chocolate and ate some as well. After the dishes were cleared away, we set out our presents for Rose on the coffee table. I saw that Pollyanna did not set out her present, which turned out to be wise. Rose opened Michelle's first, and it was the purse that Rose had wanted. The day when we had gone to the mall after the blode fotze (I mean, Mrs. Goodrich) had kicked out her daughter, Rose had spotted the purse and must have picked it up a half-dozen times before finally setting it down, saying it wasn't essential. Jean's gift to Rose was shoes that matched the purse. Lori gave Rose a gift certificate to a restaurant, saying that, with all the cooking that she did, she deserved to have somebody else cook for her for once. I saw the puzzled look on her face when she opened my present. "It's a mouse," I explained to her. "Duh! What's it for?" she asked. "It plugs into the computer that's in your bedroom. You didn't expect me to wrap the whole thing up, did you?" Rose protested, "But... I told you that I would..." "Rose, everybody is having a good time; please don't ruin it. Just nod and thank me." Nodding, Rose said, "Thank you, Chad," with just the hint of sarcasm in her voice. Any further protests about the computer quickly left her when she opened her next gift. Geoffrey had given Rose an expensive, beautiful, red evening gown. Stunned, she just stared at Mr. Hunington. Geoff chuckled and said, "I just wanted my daughter's date to the Winter Formal to show up halfways-decent." Rose seemed to be on the verge of tears; the idea of her girlfriend's parents being so accepting of her was overwhelming. She opened Irene's gift next, stared at whatever was inside the box for a few seconds, then let out a scream of surprise when it dawned on her what it was and slapped down the box lid before anybody else could see. I had never seen Rose turn so red -- her skin almost matched her hair! She just closed her eyes and shook her head whenever anybody asked her what was inside; her hands clasped the box tightly, lest anybody try to take it away to see. "It's a strap-on," answered Mrs. Hunington. We all started chuckling, except for Rose and Pollyanna, who was now as embarrassed as her lover was. Irene saw her daughter's surprised face and tried to reassure her. "Don't worry, dear, mine is still at home. It's a brand new one, and it has never been used. I don't know if the same could be said by tomorrow morning..." Our chuckles turned into full laughter at watching the two girl's reactions. After everybody had composed himself or herself -- and Rose had gotten over most of her embarrassment -- she went back to opening the gifts. Traci had gotten Rose a sun dress and, while Marge was absent due to work, she had sent over her gift with her daughters, a necklace with a small, ruby-studded rose pendant. Pollyanna handed Rose her gift; when Rose unwrapped it, she saw it was a shoebox. Thinking it was another pair of shoes, she lifted the lid, and then let out an audible gasp. The evening's events had put her on edge, and her girlfriend's gift had pushed her over it. She began to weep. The lovers wrapped their arms around each other, hugging each other as if their lives had depended on it. They kept muttering that they loved each other, and I was sure that everybody had tears in their eyes. I was glad that Pollyanna had taken my suggestion for what to give Rose. Inside the shoebox were the letters Pollyanna had written Rose. She had painstakingly recreated every single one of them to the best of her memory -- right down to the types of paper she had used and the colors of inks. ------- Chapter 14 Marge was working six days a week at the hospital, so when she agreed to a dinner date during her one free night, I was relieved. She seemed to find it amusing that I had wanted it to only be just the two of us, and that the restaurant I chose was a rather expensive, romantic one. In truth, I'd had two choices: I could have gone with a crowded place, where the noise in the background would obscure what we were talking about, or with a quiet place, where there were not too many ears around to hear us. I did some research, and I found a restaurant whose cuisine was such that it did not tend to have many repeat customers. It was doubtful that the place would survive more than a few more months, but for that moment it served its purpose. I was required to have my learners permit six months prior to attempting to pass my driver's license test, so the CYA had included one in the dossier that I had received. Marge was kind enough to let me drive to the restaurant, and she even commented that I was an excellent driver. I thanked her, not betraying that I had learned to drive just about every wheeled vehicle possible, from the East German Trabant to a Russian T-80. I was a novice compared to the agents who trained as a 'driver'. If it moved, they could operate it, and they could perform maneuvers that wet dreams were made of. The only restriction that the CYA had imposed on their training was that actual flying of high-speed jets be restricted until the agents had reached sixteen. Something about the damage to their growth from the g-forces was the explanation that had been given. However, the 'drivers' still trained on the flight simulators, just in case the situation arose where they were forced to commandeer a military jet. Though, if an agent had to resort to stealing military vehicles, then the mission they were on was truly FUBAR (Fucked Up Beyond All Repair). After we had finished our appetizers, Marge looked me directly in the eyes and wanted to know what was up. I tried to give her a surprised look, but she saw right through my weak charade. "Chad, the first time we talked alone, you told me your attentions of having sex with my daughter. Then, you instruct my other daughter to confess her desires of being dominated. You always have something going on in your head, and I can't wait to hear this one!" A faint smile played on the corners of her lips as she said that. I sighed, and I knew I should have approached it differently. I wanted to confront Marge when she was relaxed, and I had thought that doing it on her day off would be enough. I had failed, and already she had her guard up. I decided to forge ahead with my plan. "Mrs. Caspar, both your daughters..." I stopped because she let out a snort. I raised my eyebrow, and she replied to my silent question, "Whenever you call me Mrs. Caspar, I know it's going to be a doozy. Sorry, please continue." I let out another sigh. Had I been out of practice so much that I forgot to predict how people would react to what I said? I renewed my resolve, and said, "Marge, the girls are worried about you. They tell me that you are working so much that they hardly get to see you. Lori even told me that, a few months before I moved next door, you had mentioned about all of you moving to Phoenix or Texas, because it would be cheaper." Marge frowned and said, "I know I said that, but I don't want to move until the girls have completed high school. Don't worry, Chad, your girlfriend won't be moving away. We might have to end up moving to a different neighborhood, maybe someplace where the average house was below a million dollars, but Traci and Lori would still be attending Central High." "Funny you should mention moving, because that is exactly what I had in mind. Please hear me out completely and think about it before you say no. What I suggest is that everybody could move in with me. By not having to worry about paying your mortgage, you can work less; and, right now, the housing market is on an upswing, so by selling the house, you should be able to pay off John's medical bills and school loans." I paused briefly but, Marge kept silent, gauging what I had said, so I continued. "Also, there is the matter of Rose. Right now, there have not been any problems with Rose staying with me but, if anything did occur, I doubt anybody would view her living with me very highly. I know being emancipated means that I'm legally treated like an adult, but I doubt Social Services would factor that in. Finally, I want to take a trip with you, your daughters, and Rose and, with you always having to work, it would be near impossible." Traci must have inherited her curiosity from her father because, instead of asking about the trip, Marge said, "You seem to have given this a great deal of thought." I nodded, but our food arrived just then, cutting off anything more either of us might have added. We ate in silence while Marge thought about what I had said. After a little bit, she said, "I am going to have to sleep on it, but it sounds like you are trying to do what Traci says is a common theme in those cartoons you watch." She chuckled at the puzzled look on my face and said, "You know: make a harem, have a bunch of girls living around you, fawning all over you." I rolled my eyes at that to reassure her. "I think I can say that that is the furthest thought from my mind." Well, I can say it, I mused, but I wish I were more certain about that myself. Marge was cutting her meat when she mildly said, "Well, Traci had better fuck you soon; that way Lori and I can get our shot at you." Diet soda was never created to pass through one's nostrils. It took me a moment to compose myself after she had said that. I wondered if she had planned to tell me that right when I was taking a drink from my glass? Once I had gathered my wits, I decided to match her volley. Paraphrasing a movie I had seen a few weeks prior, I arched my eyebrow and asked, "Mrs. Caspar, are you trying to seduce me?" "Trust me, Chad; if we end up moving in together, I will," she replied with a wink. In the few months that I had known Marge, our flirting and teasing with each other had gotten bolder each time. I had just chalked it up to merely getting close my neighbor and girlfriend's mother. The problem with teasing, though, is that there is usually an ounce or two of truth behind it. From the look I was receiving, I think it had moved up to a pound. Not knowing how to respond to her statement, I deliberately took a bite from my steak and changed the subject. ------- Since I had trained myself to wake up before the alarm, I was not used to loud noises jarring me from my sleep. I muttered a French profanity that roughly translated to 'Your mother smells of elderberry wine' and picked up the phone. I hoped that whoever was calling had not disturbed Rose. "Chad, Mom wants you to come over this morning!" an excited Traci practically shouted in my ear. "Okay, I'll be over there after my first cigarette," I replied, which earned a raspberry through the phone. After telling Traci I loved her, I rolled over and lit up a Camel Wide. I had wised up and started keeping a pack of cigarettes on the bedside table, for the weekends. After a few quick drags, I got out of bed and did a quick morning routine, chain-smoking while I did it. I was on my third cigarette when I reached next door. Traci opened the door before I had a chance to knock and gave me a look of disgust. I took a couple more puffs before snuffing out the cigarette. There was still a third left, so I set it down next to the doorstep. Traci moved to smash it with her foot, but she must have caught the look I gave her, because she quickly aborted her plan. After making sure the butt was safe, I went in the house with her. Marge and Lori were in the living room, so I followed Traci in there and sat in an empty seat. Traci started to crawl into my lap, but then changed her mind, saying that I still smelled like cigarette smoke. I shrugged and turned my attention to Marge. "I told the girls your plan, but I had a couple of questions before making up my mind. Have you talked to your parents about this?" I nodded and added, "Actually, they thought it was a great idea. An adult around would keep me out of trouble. They also added that the house was in my name and that I could do whatever I wanted with it. Heck, they haven't even seen the house, they let one of their lawyers buy the place. My parents need to stay abroad, something about tax reasons, so they don't even have a room in the house. I should mention that, right now, I plan on selling the house and returning the money to them in five years. Even if I stick around in the area, I want to use my own money instead of theirs." The nagging feeling of me lying to somebody I knew was present. It was not as strong as it was when I did it to Traci, but it was stronger than when I had lied to Marge in the past. The CYA did tell me I could do whatever I wanted when it came to living on my own, but I doubted they had planned on me having so many people move in with me. If I ever had to 'disappear', it would be more complicated with housemates. "What about food and utilities? You can't expect us to move in with you and have you pay for all of us." "Okay, how about we split the grocery bill," I suggested. "And the utilities," stated Marge. "I'll pay for the gas, and you can pay for the electric. As for television, I have satellite, so it might be easier to have cable for your rooms, instead of having to buy additional satellite receivers. You can pay for that and I'll continue paying for the satellite." "What about the phone?" Marge asked. I glanced over at Traci and said, "We might as well transfer your line to my house. I don't think I have enough money to cover Traci's phone bill." "Hey! I might use the phone a lot, but it's all local," protested Traci. "Honey, he was just teasing you. I think you're right. No, not about how much you use the phone," Marge added after seeing her daughter's look, "though, you do talk a lot on the phone, but I won't have to go through and tell everybody my new number." "Okay, I think we covered everything. Anything else, we will deal with it when the situation arises." I knew I had won a small victory with the gas and electric bill, since Marge was gong to freak out when she saw that I actually got a credit on the electricity. I had five one-kilowatt fuel cells, three on the outside of the house and two in the basement. They took the natural gas and converted it into electricity, and any excess power was fed into the electric grid. With three more people moving in, I doubted I would still get a credit, but the electric bill would be minuscule compared to the gas one. Another advantage to the fuel cells was that a by-product of their use was hot water. I knew that four females under one roof could have resulted in cold showers for me, the lone guy who would be forced to shower last, but unless they planned on taking thirty-minute showers each, I should have plenty of hot water. Marge glanced at her watch and said, "Well, I need to be heading into work. I don't see why the girls couldn't start packing today." When Marge stood up, her daughters rushed in and hugged her. I choose that opportunity to slip outside and finish my cigarette. It was not as satisfying as a fresh one, but I was running very low on my supply. The next time I saw Jean, maybe I could talk her into buying me a carton. I heard the door open, and I saw Marge coming out. "I don't know how long it will take to sell the house, but I'll try to look into it while I am at work. You know, when you and Traci have a fight, it will be tougher when you two are under the same roof." I smiled and said, "I love Traci, and I doubt we will fight." Marge laughed and said, "Dear, those are the toughest fights of all, having a fight with somebody that you love." I pondered that, and walked Marge to her car. She gave me a brief hug, and she told me that she would see me in the evening. I nodded, and told her to drive safely. Deciding that I had better head back and let Rose know about the current living arrangements, I returned home. It turned out that I had not needed not to bother, since Rose was in the living room, rolling her eyes, and was only being allowed to give monosyllabic responses. I took the phone from her and said into the receiver, "Traci, if you want to talk to Rose, come over in person. I need to fill her in on what is going on." After being called a spoilsport, she ended her call quickly -- most likely to call the next victim on her list. I hoped for their sakes that they were out; otherwise it would be an hour of their lives wasted listening to Traci go on and on. Rose smiled and said that Traci had already told her the basic details. I laughed, "I bet, by the time I got over here, she'd informed you on the minor ones, as well. Anyhow, the Caspars will be moving in with us. Maybe I should have discussed it with you first, but I chose to run my plan by Marge first. Sorry." Rose shrugged and said, "Hey, I think it will be cool with them living here. I mean, we see each other practically all the time anyways." She grinned and added, "Maybe I should ask for a raise." I knew she was kidding, but I had already factored that in. She started protesting when she saw me reach for my wallet, but I shot her a glance that silenced her for the time being. I took out the Amazon Visa, which already had her name on it, and gave it to her. It took her a moment to spot her name, and she gave me a puzzled look. "That card is to be used for groceries and other household purchases. You'll keep getting the hundred a week, but all of it is yours. You will have to deal with cleaning up after three more people and, the way you girls like to change outfits at a drop of a hat, mountains of laundry." She rolled her eyes at my last comment, and only gave a weak protest about her salary. I think it was because we were so close to Christmas and she wanted to buy some gifts for her friends that she gave in easily. I suggested she might want to give Pollyanna a call to warn her not to answer the phone anytime soon. Rose agreed, but ended up getting a busy signal, being too late to give her girlfriend a heads-up on Traci's excitement. As we headed into the kitchen to make a light breakfast, I pointed out that Traci could have just told everybody at lunch today and Rose laughed, saying that when Traci has something to tell, she tells it right away. We had just finished cleaning up breakfast and started the prep work for lunch with Traci came over carrying a box of her stuff. After I took the box from her and set it down, I gave her a kiss, which she recoiled from. I silently swore a Russian profanity over my glaring mistake. I had forgotten to brush my teeth this morning. In addition, I had just finished my seventh cigarette of the day just before Traci arrived. Rose at least did not give me grief about smoking inside, since she correctly pointed out that it was my house. Traci picked up her stuff and headed towards the master bedroom. I stopped her, and asked where she thought she was going. "I'm going to put my stuff in our room," she replied. I shook my head and said, "No, honey, you're not going to put your stuff in my room. You need to pick another room." She gave me a sour look and asked, "Why can't I stay in your room?" I had been giving what Marge and I talked about before she left for work a great deal of thought. I said to Traci, "I think it would be best if you pick a room for yourself. There might be times when you want to be alone and not want to have to deal with my ugly mug. Also, you snore and I don't want you keeping me awake all night. Then, what about when Fran comes over? I mean I don't mind you being in there, but she can be rather shy." Either my shoulder was getting weaker or Traci's punches stronger, but I swore I was going to end up with a bruise from the punch I received. Even holding her box with one hand, she was still able to pack quite a wallop. By the look in Traci's eyes, I swore she was getting behavior lessons from Rose. "Chad Johnson, you might one day be able to convince me into considering letting you 'play' with my friends, my sister, and heck, I could even maybe see you with my mother, but it will be a cold day in Hell that you will EVER think I will let you sleep with Fran!" I wondered how much of the conversation that Marge and I had the previous night was explained to Traci, or if she threw out her mom just because she figured it would be the last person she could imagine me with, but I was a little surprised when she mentioned her. Still, not being able to figure out what Traci thought Fran had possessed that would cause me to leave her for the blonde Amazon, I said, "Fran will never enter my bedroom." I waited a few heartbeats to add, "I'll just use my sister's room, instead." I heard just about every single English profanity then and even a couple of foreign ones that I had used around Traci. Rose saved me from the assault by suggesting, "Fran and Chad could just use my room if you don't want them using his sister's room." I was briefly tempted to see if the glare my darling gave her friend could light one of my cigarettes. Lori chose that moment to come into the house and asked "What room is mine?" I pointed and said to her, "The one straight back, at the end of the hall." Lori caught Traci's reaction, grinned, and started walking towards the master bedroom. "Why the Hell does Lori get to sleep in your room?" demanded Traci. Lori saved me the trouble of answering the obvious. "Dear sis, where else does a slave sleep but at the foot of her master's bed?" Lori had overcome her fear of her desires and had started to joke about them, like the rest of us. Traci spun on her and said, "He should keep his slut slave chained up in his Dungeon that he refuses any of us to see!" Rose blushed slightly, and it was a good thing Traci had been focused on her older sister, or she might have caught Rose's look of embarrassment. I had not told anyone how to get into the basement, but one day last month Rose had discovered the secret passage while retrieving the vacuum cleaner from the closet under the stairs. I had not done too much down there, since I was limited to ordering my supplies online. Deciding that we'd had enough fun at Traci's expense, I explained to the two Caspar girls that the house had seven bedrooms and three of them were off limits: my sister's, Rose's, and mine. They were free to pick any of the empty ones. Rose, however, decided to have a little fun and added, "I don't mind if Traci wants to share a bed with me," and as she said that in a seductive voice, she reached around Traci from behind and fondled my girlfriend's breasts. I think Traci would have jumped five feet high if it was not for the box she was holding, weighing her down. She spun around and started backpedaling from her friend, saying to her, "There is no way I'm going to be rooming with a carpet muncher!" Rose took it in stride and gave Lori a look. Lori shrugged, and the two of them started walking towards the stairs. "Don't you think Pollyanna might get jealous?" I asked Rose. Rose shot back, "Pollyanna is not jealous of you, so she should not get jealous over your slave." I do not know who the first to start laughing was, but it was not long until all of us were. Finally, when we had all composed ourselves, I suggested, "Lori, you might want to take one of the rooms that was closest to the top of the stairs, since those two rooms share a bathroom, and your mom could take the other." I turned to Traci and said, "You can put your stuff in the bedroom across from my sister's since it is next to the master bedroom." I then added, "You can also put your clothes in the empty walk-in closet that's attached to the master bathroom, but I do not want any of your silly 'girly stuff' in my room." The girls decided what I had said made sense (choosing to ignore my machoism) and took their stuff to their new rooms. Grabbing the opportunity, I hurried to the backyard and lit up. I was halfway through smoking the cigarette when Traci came back out, looking for me. She saw what I was doing, gave me a dirty look, and stormed back inside the house. I presumed she was going back to her house to retrieve more stuff. I had just lit up my second backyard cigarette when Lori came out to join me. "Is the plan still on for Christmas, or has it changed since we are moving in?" Lori asked, keeping one eye out for Traci. "It's still on. Don't worry; you won't be my slave anytime soon." Lori smiled at my answer. A couple weeks ago, I had approached Lori and her mom about an idea I had for Christmas night. They had agreed to my plan and had even helped with the initial legwork. I chatted with Lori about some mundane stuff while I finished my cancer stick. After I snuffed it out, I said, "I should really brush my teeth so I could greet Traci properly." She grinned and reminded me, "When you become my master, you could always feel free to kiss me without having to worry about my breath" I leaned in, kissed her cheek, and said, "Thank you." Traci was passing through the master bathroom to take clothes to her closet when I finished brushing my teeth. I grabbed her arm, spun her around, and gave her a proper kiss. She held on to her clothes for about ten seconds before dropping them on the floor and hugging me tight. When she finally broke our kiss, she announced it was much better than before. I helped her retrieve her clothes from the bathroom floor, and put them away in her walk-in. I ended up being the pack mule for the Caspar girls and, when Pollyanna and Michelle showed up, they ended up assisting us after Rose assured everybody she could handle lunch on her own. I was amused when Traci let out a shriek when I started to put her underwear away in the bedroom dresser. She seemed to be perfectly okay with me going down on her, and she had no trouble telling her friends, in detailed account, about it; but having her boyfriend handle her undergarments was taboo. It must have been extremely important to her, because she suggested that I go outside and have a cigarette while she took care of her underwear. Not passing up that golden opportunity, I quickly hurried outside to do what my girlfriend instructed me to. Rose stepped out to inform me lunch would be ready in a few more minutes, so I only was able to have one coffin nail. I swung by the half-bathroom next to the laundry room to use some mouthwash before joining the girls at the dining room table. After lunch was over and the dishes taken care of, Rose joined in with the moving project. After some bickering about what to bring over, I decided to step in. "I think it would be best to wait on some of the larger furniture until Marge gets back. As for where it goes, I don't really care how the house is decorated, but I would like to leave the study alone, for now. I have plans for it in the future, but every place else -- excluding the master bedroom and my sister's bedroom -- is free game." Since the Caspars had televisions in each of their bedrooms, we decided that Marge would get the larger living room TV. Lori ended up with Marge's old one, and Traci inherited Lori's. Rose started to protest when we put Traci's old television in her room, saying, "I can buy a television for myself." Traci just shrugged and said, "Okay, I'll just throw it in the trash instead." Rose gave in and finally accepted the television. "Bitch! You would actually throw away a perfectly good television, just to spite me." Traci shot her friend a grin and replied, "Yup, you know I would, Dyke." When it came to the kitchen appliances, I suggested that, since Rose did most of the cooking, she should be the one to decide what should be brought over. Rose thought that the Caspars' refrigerator could be useful in the garage since she had three more mouths to feed. I agreed with her, and again suggested we double-check with Marge first. ------- Marge was able to reduce her work schedule starting that day (she called a nurse who was needing overtime), and returned home after only working eight hours. She was impressed with our work, and took over directing what should be brought over, what should be set aside for storage, what to be thrown out, and what to leave behind. She was surprised that the girls flatly refused to leave behind a rather old recliner. She started to explain that it did not match the décor of my living room when she suddenly stopped and agreed that it should be brought over. Later I discovered that the recliner had been John's favorite chair. Rose and Pollyanna had started preparing dinner around 5:00 but, when Lori had caught the two of them making out in the kitchen, Michelle ended up taking Pollyanna's place. We decided to call it a day when dinner was ready. Rose had made sure that we had plenty to eat since we all had been working pretty much non-stop. After dinner, it was agreed that a long soak in the hot tub was in order. When Rose started for the kitchen to do the dishes, I said to her, "They can wait." She insisted, "They should be taken care of now, because later they'll be harder to clean." She started to protest when I joined her and I said, "Rose, you have two choices: join us or allow me to join you." She said, "Fine," and I ended up drying and putting the dishes away while she washed them. It only took us about ten minutes to get everything cleaned up, so we joined the remaining young ladies outside. When I got into the hot tub, Michelle moved to sit between my legs, complaining about her shoulders. She did have some rather tight knots, and it took me a while to work them out. When I was done with her, Pollyanna took her place, and I ended up giving everybody a backrub. When it came to Lori's turn, she decided to have fun with her sister. When I was working on her shoulders, she reached up and brought my hands down to her breasts, saying she had some knots there that needed to be worked out. I was happy to comply until I felt Traci grabbing me not-so-tenderly. While I was not fully erect, I was still somewhat hard, so she was able to get a pretty decent grip. She growled into my ear "It might be wise to remove your hands from my sister." I made a big production of removing my hands and raising my hands into the air. While nobody could see where Traci's hand was, it was not difficult to deduce, and they all started laughing. "You spoilsport," Lori called Traci. Traci shot back, "I hope Chad has a cage in his Dungeon so I can lock up his slave and throw away the key." More laughter ensued and while I did not have a cage yet, I made a mental note to acquire one. "I was able to get my hours reduced, but I still have to go in early, at least for the next couple of weeks. I think I had better call it a night," announced Marge When she got out of the tub, I got out as well, walking her inside. She walked up to me and gave me a tight hug. While she had her arms around me, she whispered into my ear, "I'll keep my door unlocked, just in case you might want to ravish me." Any erection that I had before had disappeared after Traci's attitude adjustment, but the way she whispered that while as rubbing her body against mine, brought it back with a vengeance. She felt my reaction and gave a small giggle as she broke the hug. I stood there watching her do a sexy little walk into the house. I tried to will myself to calm down before turning around to get back into the tub. After a few moments without much success, I gave up and received a squeal from Michelle when she saw the tent in my swim trunks. I think all the teasing I got about the effect Marge had on me helped my erection start to fade. I decided not to sit next to Traci, in case she wanted to speed up the process. While it was in the middle of December, it was not terribly cold, but we all soon decided to head on inside, nonetheless. Lori helped me cover the hot tub, then she stopped me before going inside and asked me how long I had been scheming to have them move in with me. I shrugged, and I told her "Take a guess." Lori said, "I think since the end of September." I was surprised she had guessed correctly. I asked, "What gave it away?" "You had been so gung-ho about using Ethernet cable to hook up our computer, and then you suddenly decided to go with a wireless card, instead. It was rather odd because you had been reluctant at first with using a wireless connection, because of security, but you flip-flopped your position after the conversation we had had about Mom working so much." I said grinning, "I'm not so sure that I could handle having such a smart slave." She chuckled and said, "I'm not sure about having such a dumb master." We started to laugh when she said, "Yes please," to my threat of spanking her for calling me dumb. Traci poked her head back out and told us to get inside where she could keep her eye on us so we followed her in. After everybody had returned from showering, I told the girls that I was going to call it an early night since we still had a lot of stuff to do in the morning. Pollyanna had already brought her overnight bag since she had planned to stay the night with Rose. Michelle suggested, "Maybe I should call Mom and ask if I can stay the night; that way I can help out tomorrow, as well." I nodded and said to her, "I don't think Jean would have a problem with you staying over, especially with Marge living here now." As Michelle made her call, I headed into the master bedroom. I decided to skip my bath since I had soaked in the hot tub, so I grabbed a pair of sweats and crawled into bed. I had almost drifted off to sleep when Traci came into the room. She was wearing a sleeping tee shirt, and I had a sneaky suspicion she did not have anything else on underneath. When I pulled back the covers for her, I think she was a little disappointed that I was not naked, but she crawled in and cuddled up next to me. I wrapped my arms around her and fell asleep spooning her. ------- I woke up in the morning the best way any male would want to. I laid there with my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation I was receiving. It was when I felt my cock slide down what felt like a throat that my eyes popped open and I looked to see who was giving me the fantastic blowjob. I was relieved to see it was Traci who was deep-throating me. It was the first time that she had done it and, when she slid her mouth back up the shaft, she looked up at me and grinned. At least as much as she could with her lips wrapped around me. I smiled back down at her and let her continue the wonderful job she was performing on me. Traci began to alternate her technique. First, she started slow, deep-throating me a couple more times, then she sped up, bobbing her head up and down on my cock. When she felt I was close to cumming, she stopped and just held the tip of my cock in her mouth. She then removed her mouth and began to lick my manhood from the base to the tip a couple of times before she resumed her sucking. When I finally came, she greedily accepted my seed and, after my last blast, she licked me clean, making sure she did not miss any of my essence. When she crawled up to me, I gave her a deep kiss. Since she was on the pill, I did not have to worry about any transfer of my sperm to her via my mouth to her sweet pussy. "You tricky little devil, where in the world did you learn that?" "I'm not telling," was all that I could get from her. I decided torture was my best option at extracting the information that I wanted from my girlfriend. I rolled her onto her back, my body pressing down upon her. I started slow, working my lips from her jaw down to her pert breasts. I nuzzled her left nipple while my hand played with her right. I then switched places with my mouth and hand and repeated the process. I cupped both breasts as I lowered my head, tracing little kisses down to her navel. When I reached her delightful valley, I plunged my tongue directly into her core. I began to take long laps at her wetness, savoring the taste and smell of wonderful pussy. I kept it up, alternating between slow and drawn-out licks to quick and short ones. As I did that with my mouth, my hands were busy manipulating her breasts, my thumbs and forefingers paying extra attention to her sensitive nipples. When her chest began to rise and fell with her rapid, shallow breathing, I could tell she was close to cumming. I removed my hands from her breasts and raised my head. "Where did you learn that?" "Bastard! I'm not telling," she cried, bringing one hand to her breast and the other down to her clit, trying to take herself over the edge. I grabbed her hands and held them to her side. "Where did you learn that?" "I can't tell you, I promised!" wailed my poor girlfriend. Well, since she had promised, then I decided not to hold it against her. I lowered my head back to the feast and found her hard nubbin. I nipped softly at her sensitive clit, and it only took me a half a minute before I brought her to a climax. "You jerk! That was so mean," my girlfriend told me, after she had time to compose herself. I smiled softly at her and gave her forehead a kiss. "I'm sorry; I didn't know that you had promised. However, I do find it odd that they could trust you with a secret. I'm guessing it must have been a stranger who told ya, since everybody who knows you knows what a mouth you have." "Funny. I didn't hear you complaining about my mouth a few minutes ago." I kissed my girlfriend, this time on the mouth, and thanked her for the wonderful morning wake-up. ------- "Chad, why don't you want to go to the Winter Formal?" "Because Fran told me no," I answered Traci. She rolled her eyes and asked her question again. "I don't own a tux," I said, coming up with another excuse. None of my training missions had required me to don a tuxedo. Even if I had, it would have come from the Agency's collection of eveningwear. After missions were over, we were allowed to keep any wardrobe purchases that were made to maintain our cover, but some bright bureaucrat discovered that they could save money reusing the more expensive articles of clothing. It did make sense, since the agents were always outgrowing their clothes and there were always other agents to fill them in, even if they were hand-me-downs. "Chad, you do know that they have places where you can rent tuxedos?" Traci asked me. "What, risk getting pediculosis? I think not." "Pedi what?" I smiled and explained, "Pubic lice, commonly called crabs." "Well, two problems with that argument: one, you don't have any pubic hair. Two, you can wear the underwear you bought." I rolled my eyes when she mentioned my recent garment purchases. Back in November, Traci had been feeling rather frisky at lunchtime and had decided to excite me at the lunch table. She had sat closer to me than usual and had used her left hand to softly stroke my thigh. On a few occasions, she had let her hand stray up to trace her fingers along my erect cock before resuming her teasing caresses. She had the common decency to stop her horseplay five minutes before lunch was over to allow me to calm down from her attentive hand, so when the bell had rung, I was only semi-stiff. When I stood to leave, Michelle let out an audible gasp. I turned to look at her. Michelle, Rose, and Pollyanna were staring right at my groin, and Traci practically yanked me off my feet when she pulled me down. "Oh, shit! I'm sorry, Chad," confessed my girlfriend. Thanks to my girlfriend's digital manipulations, I had a wet spot the size of a quarter on my pants. The lack of pubic hair to absorb the precum, and the fact I had not been wearing underwear, would not have been so noticeable if I had not chosen to wear khakis that day. Instead of being absorbed by denim or being masked by darker colored pants, it stood out like a beacon. I shrugged and started to stand up when Traci yanked me back down again. "What are you doing?" she hissed at me. "Going to class," I replied. "Should I go find Lori? Maybe she can drive Chad home so he could change," supplied Rose. "I don't see what the big deal is. If anybody asks me, I'll just say it was because my girlfriend was giving me a handjob at lunch." "Fuck! You would say that, wouldn't you?" hissed Traci. Since Traci hardly used that profanity, it clued me in how aghast she was about the matter. Myself, I found it amusing. I knew, once again, it was my former life which made me immune to the embarrassment that this would cause a normal adolescent boy. The girls were coming up with ideas on how to take care of my problem when I decided to step in. "I'll just cover it with my laptop case until it dries out." "It's still going to leave a stain," pointed out Pollyanna. "Yeah, except nobody will notice it. It's not like people walk around staring at my crotch." "I do." Both Pollyanna and I gave Rose a surprised look. Rose quickly added, "Not just yours, I look at other... I mean... girl's check out packages. Just like you guys stare at our tits." Rose's face had started to match her hair with that revelation, with Michelle and Traci nodding with her assessment. Traci said, "Chad, give me your locker combo, and I'll fetch your laptop." There was no way I was going to give Traci my combo. My dial on my locker had not been on the number I had left it twice since the first occurrence. The situation had caused me to be tardy to class one time because I dared not open the locker while the hallway had people in it. The thought of being tardy allowed me to come up with an excuse. "This is silly, we'll be late if we do that," and before Traci could stop me, I stood up quickly and headed to my locker. I had hardly walked three steps before the rest of the girls surrounded me. Traci practically being plastered to my side was not an uncommon sight, but having Michelle was. Pollyanna and Rose had linked up their arms, and positioned themselves rather close in front of me, trying to block any prying eyes. I felt like I was in a middle of a bloody parade and that, if anything, their actions were causing more undue attention. I turned out to be wrong, since we made our way to my locker without so much as a puzzled look. That evening, Traci insisted Lori take me out to buy some underwear, so that, in her words, "My Hindu boyfriend doesn't embarrass me in public again." I tried to point out that it was her fault for exciting me, but the point seemed lost on her. As a result, I had started to wear underwear, at least when I wore khakis. I was lost in the remembrance of why I had to buy underwear, so Traci took that opportunity to ask again. "Honestly Chad, why don't you want to go to the Winter Formal?" Since she had phrased it like that, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. We were alone in the living room, Marge was up in her room, Lori was at cheer practice, and Rose was doing the wash in the laundry room. I gestured with my head that we should move the conversation to the backyard. Traci frowned at that but, since it was not the weekend, she figured I wanted to tell her something without anybody interrupting us. Once we were outside and sitting at one of the tables, I decided to tell Traci the truth. "Honestly, I have no compelling reason to want to go." "But I want to go," Traci said, with just a slight whine in her voice. I smiled sadly and said, "I know my love, but think it out. Who is not going?" Traci shrugged and said, "Michelle isn't." "And who else?" I prodded. Traci thought for a moment and replied, "Lori." "And, of our friends, who is going?" Traci quickly answered, "Rose and Pollyanna." "Correct. So, is it REALLY necessary that you and I go, especially when Lori and Michelle are not? Don't you think it would be nice if Rose and Pollyanna could enjoy a romantic evening alone, instead of having the two of us around?" "They would be safer if we were there with them," pointed out Traci. I smiled at her weak excuse. Rose and Pollyanna were open about their relationship at school, as were about a half-dozen gay couples. Most of them were in the drama department (no surprise there) and, excluding an occasional crude comment, they were left unmolested. The legend of how three students where expelled for 'fag bashing', and how two of them had to serve time for their hate crime, was common knowledge, even though it had occurred over a decade ago. I think that California being a fairly progressive state when it came to same-sex couples helped matters. All that aside, my vow of being a pacifist would surely be tested if anybody harmed Rose or Pollyanna. "Pollyanna's mom is taking the girls to the dance and is also picking them up. They will be perfectly fine there." "I still want to go," Traci said, giving me one of her patented pouts. "There is always next year or the year after that. And, if for some reason, we can't go to either of them, I'll be wearing a tux when I get married; we can dance then." I think the additional comment about getting married finally convinced Traci that the Winter Formal was not that big of a deal. There were far more special occasions in our future to look forward to. Being the fool that I was, I could not leave good enough alone. "I'm sure that Fran won't mind you dancing with her husband." I swore to myself that the next time I make a dig at Traci, I would have all four legs of my seat firmly on the ground. By the time I had recovered from my fall and picked myself up, Traci had already stormed into the house. It took a couple of orgasms from my tongue that evening for Traci to forgive me for my remark and finally agree to let Pollyanna and Rose to enjoy the Winter Formal solo. ------- The second Sunday after the Caspars moved in, I did not receive as pleasant wake-up as the one I had that first morning. "Chad, Chad, wake up!" my girlfriend practically yelled into my ear, shaking me hard. I groaned and slowly opened my eyes. From the amount of sunlight that was entering the room, I knew I had only been asleep for three or four hours. Saturday's lunch group and Sunday's anime group had decided that we should all get together and play poker every so often on a Saturday night. The previous night was the third time we had done it, and it had lasted until five AM. When Traci saw that I was awake, she proclaimed, "Rose is on a date with Brad Young." I let out another groan, and I covered my head with a pillow. "Didn't you hear me, she's on a date with Brad!" my girlfriend exclaimed after pulling the pillow away from me. This was the sixth 'date' that Rose had been on, ever since the conversation that Rose and I had about religion. I suspected that it was only the third one that Traci knew of. I let out a sigh and asked, "So?" "He's a guy," my girlfriend said, stating the obvious. She then added, "Also, Sarah Jones is practically engaged to him." It was common knowledge at high school that Brad and Sarah were going to be attending the same college in Utah the next year. Rumor had it that they planned to be married after they completed their missionary work. Again, I asked, "So?" "Why is Brad going out on a date with Rose?" "Maybe he is into polygamy. Can I please go back to sleep?" I begged Traci. She tossed the pillow that she had taken from me at my face. I had closed my eyes when I heard her exclaim, "Oh my God... dess!" The pillow hid the grin that spread across my face. When Traci would do something endearing to me, warmth would glow in my heart. The adding of the extra syllable to what she had just said was one of those moments. I never knew if it was a conscious effort on her part, the way she tried to emulate some of my mannerisms. The warmth was always welcomed, especially when my heart would be engulfed in darkness after I lied to her. After I suppressed my smile, I removed the pillow, and arched my eyebrow at her. "It can't be a date! Pollyanna stayed the night, so she has to know that Rose left this morning." Both Pollyanna and Michelle had opted to crash at my house, since the poker game had lasted so long. Rose had cashed out just after midnight, because of her plans in the morning. I suspected everybody in the house was still sleeping, except for my curious girlfriend, who most likely stayed awake to find out where Rose was going. And me, of course, since she had to tell someone. "Oh, I know," my girlfriend said, "Pollyanna and Rose decided to have an open relationship, and they are seeing other people." I let out a small sigh. I thought my girlfriend had finally figured it out, especially after the exclamation she had used. I smiled softly at Traci and said, "I highly doubt that. Speaking of open relationships, I need to get up. Fran is going to be stopping by soon, so that she and I can go out on our date." Traci took the pillow that I had removed from my head, and swung it full force at me. She used a few choice words to describe both Fran and me. She then stormed out of the bedroom. My heart was warm for two reasons. One, some of the words she had used were foreign ones that she had heard me use, and I doubted she knew what they meant; according to her, Fran was the 'father of a unclean whore' in Yiddish, and I was the 'daughter of a woman who never closed her legs' in Thai. The second reason was that I was finally allowed to go back to sleep. As I drifted off to sleep, I kept telling myself that there were far better ways to be awoken in the morning. ------- Chapter 15 That year, Christmas fell on a Saturday and, while Pollyanna and Michelle still wanted to have our traditional lunch date, it was decided that day should be spent with family. As a compromise, we decided to have lunch that Sunday, instead. The anime club meetings had turned more into an excuse to come over and raid my collection after we had completed our fansubbing project, so there was minimal protest when I told them that I had to cancel that Sunday. While my legend had been quite thorough, it did not mention whether my family opened their presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Since both the Caspars and Rose opened theirs on Christmas Day, I decided that was when my family did, as well. I retrieved my gifts for everyone on the last day of school from Chuck. He had been willing for my gifts to be sent to his house to hide suspicion, since way too many questions would have arisen, if somebody in the house intercepted the mail before I did. I securely hid my gifts while everybody was at the mall doing some shopping. I thought about hiding them down in the basement, but it was only a matter of time before Traci found the entrance to it. I had caught her the previous week looking for what she called the 'mythical' basement. Rose did not help matters when she mentioned that she knew where it was; she caught her mistake but, by then, it was too late. For the next few days after Rose's blunder, Traci had hounded Rose, trying to get the poor girl to give her a clue to where Traci should be looking for it. While I could still secure the gifts in the panic room down there (since only me and the CYA knew how to get into it), the risk of Traci learning the location of the entrance would be too great when I would have to go and retrieve it. I was halfway through taping my gifts to the underside of my desk drawers when I had a flash of inspiration. I quickly gathered up the gifts, and went to Traci's room. The entire time she had been living with me, so far, she has always insisted with sleeping with me, even throughout her period. And Rose had just washed all the bedding a few days ago. Since I knew it would be safe until Christmas, I hid my gifts in the last place anybody would look: between the mattresses of Traci's bed. I woke up before Traci on Christmas morning and retrieved four envelopes from my desk. I then went to her room, and locked the door, in case she came looking for me. After I wrote the names of all the women that were currently living with me on the envelopes, I retrieved my gifts from under the mattress, put it in the envelopes, and sealed them. I then left Traci's room and went to the living room. Marge's Christmas tree was decorated with the Caspars' Christmas ornaments. We had a discussion, a few weeks prior, about buying a Christmas tree. I pointed out two issues on why we should not. One was that I did not want to have to have Rose always cleaning up the dead needles that fell off. The second was from an environmentalist standpoint, that trees should not be cut down just to decorate somebody's house. My third point I did not voice aloud. I had better things to do with my time than spending hours looking for that "perfect tree" that would only have to be discarded after a couple of weeks. I still loved shopping, but shopping for a Christmas tree seemed rather pointless. I could have agreed to one and just stayed home while the women looked for one, but that would have meant a battle, and as Sun Tzu once said, 'It is better to avoid the battle when facing overwhelming odds, especially if it includes three female teenagers'. Well, he would have said it, especially if he had met Rose. The idea of using an artificial tree was settled when Marge pointed out that she could just pick hers up when she retrieved her Christmas ornaments from storage. The night that we set it up, Rose popped popcorn, and we used needle and thread to string them on the tree. Lori joked that I seemed to handle a needle quite well, for being a guy. I joked that it was because my parents were always busy with work that I had to learn to sew to make mends on clothes I wore. I do not think the actual truth -- that I had been taught how to suture wounds -- would have gone over well. After I had placed the envelopes under the tree, I stood back and looked around the room. Marge had also reacquired a couple boxes of her Christmas decorations, had gone throughout the house, and decorated it in splendor. Christmas was not celebrated at the Compound. We, of course, knew about it, but it was merely one of many holidays that we had to be aware of. This was the first time that I would be giving and receiving gifts, excluding Rose's birthday gift, and some small trinkets that I picked up for Traci to mark certain dating anniversaries. After a quick trip to the backyard to smoke three Camels, I went to the kitchen and started on breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since I was up. I had just completed grinding potatoes for hash browns when Rose joined me in the kitchen. She did not even try to kick me out of the kitchen today. I thought to myself that she had been watching me and knew which battles to fight and which to withdraw from. Traci was the first to finish breakfast -- seeming to think the faster she ate, the faster we would eat. That tactic worked on the other three women, who grew tired of the looks Traci kept flashing them, but I ignored her and ate at a leisurely pace. After I drank my last drop of orange juice, I suggested that we do the dishes before opening the presents. That brought out a cry of outrage from Traci, and laughter from the other three, before we all got up and headed into the living room. "Hold on a second," I said to my girlfriend, who had reached for my gift to her. "Instead of being a free-for-all, why don't we all open gifts from the same person at the same time. That way, they can enjoy watching our reactions instead of being busy unwrapping their own bounty." Traci gave me one of her small pouts, but it was Lori who asked, "How do we determine the order?" "Rose, could you fetch the cards from the study?" As the redhead went to retrieve the cards, I explained, "Each of us will get a card, and we shall go from highest to lowest." Rose came back into the living room and handed me the cards. I took them out of the pack and started shuffling. We had played poker a week earlier and, when I had put away the cards, I had stacked the deck so that I could deal myself the two of spades. It didn't matter to me what order we went in as long as my gift was unwrapped last. However, after I dealt the cards, I was surprised to see that I had the five of hearts instead of the card I had expected. Somebody knew what I had been planning and changed the order of the cards. I tried to figure out who could have thwarted my plan, but I found out my answer when we revealed our cards. I had not foreseen somebody using the deck between the last time we played poker and Christmas Day. It seemed that someone had played solitaire after I had stacked the deck, since the cards were put away in the pack from ace to king and hearts on top of diamonds, on top of spades, on top of clubs. It was pure blind luck that I still ended up with the lowest card. Lori had the king of spades, so she handed us her gifts to us. After all of us had our presents, we started to unwrap them. Lori watched us, biting her lip in anticipation. "Thank you, Lori," I told her. She had given me season three of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' on DVD and an Eminem CD. Rose was next, and I had a sneaky suspicion of what it could be, since it was the same shape of my previous gift. I thanked her for giving me season four of "Buffy" and a Tatu CD. I think that everybody had expected me to open Traci's gift first, since it was season one of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and a Kid Rock CD. I guess my plan had thwarted theirs. "Season two of "Buffy" and a CD," I announced when Marge handed me her present. She rolled her eyes and asked, "Yeah, but what CD?" "Prince?" I guessed. That got a groan from all of the ladies. I guess they felt my music library was lacking in some variety, hence the Christmas presents. I had been correct on the DVDs, but the CD was AC/DC. When I handed out my presents to the ladies, Rose gave a knowing grin. Both she and Marge knew I was planning a trip, but only Rose knew it was going to be overseas. The Caspar girls did not have a clue what could be in the envelopes, but the other two ladies had a good idea that it might be plane tickets. I nodded to let them know that they should all open the presents now. "Tokyo!" It was Rose who found her voice first after they had opened their envelopes. The plane tickets were for the Friday that we got out for Spring break and returning the Sunday that it ended. We would have eight nights in Japan. "Chad, are you sure you can affor... Young lady, put that phone down right now! It's Christmas morning, for Christ sakes!" A sheepish-looking Traci hung up the phone. Marge asking me her question had distracted me; otherwise, I would have tried to stop Traci myself. Stage 1 was completed: the girls had opened their presents. Stage 2 was tougher: to keep Traci away from a phone for at least twenty minutes. I kept an eye on my girlfriend while I answered her mother, "Yes, I can afford it. Though, this also counts as your birthday, White Day, and any other presents for next year. I wanted to do something special for my friends. I also have always wanted to go to Japan, and I thought the trip would be more fun with my friends with me." "White Day?" asked Traci. "That's the opposite of Valentine's Day. Girls give guys chocolates on February 14th, and then on March 14th, White Day, the guys return the favor by giving gifts to the girls who gave them chocolates," supplied Rose. Once again, I was impressed how much she had picked up watching anime. 'Still, I don't know if we can accept this," Marge said, much to the disappointment of her daughters. "Well, the tickets are non-refundable, and I'm still going. If you want to live with the thought of me getting lost and never seeing me again, so be it." Marge snorted at my weak attempt at a guilt trip. "When you do something, you sure go balls-out, don't you," Marge said. "And you always have to think too much about something. Just say yes, for now, so we can open the gifts that Santa brought us," I said, grinning at Marge. She conceded for now, and we turned our attention to the remaining gifts under the tree -- the ones that were labeled "From Santa". "How in the world did Santa know I wanted a letterman's jacket?" My sarcasm was thick enough to cut with knife. I had to put on the dreaded jacket and model it for everybody. Across the back of it was my last name, and over the left breast was my first. They had already sewed my letter on my jacket, as well as having my year on my left sleeve, with my water polo number, 13, on my right. I vowed to hide the jacket somewhere where Traci would never find it. I do not brand my women. "Are you going to open the gift that your family sent you?" asked Marge. I decided I might as well, but I rolled my eyes when I opened the gift. Since my mythical family was currently in Africa, the CYA had sent me an African statue. After I had showed it off, I found a place in the living room to display it, making sure it pointed west. I was the only one in the house that knew it was a fertility statue. If I pointed it east, then I would have many children. If I pointed it west, then my 'seed would never see fertile ground'. I would make sure that I pulled Rose aside later and stressed that, if she ever had to clean it, or move it, to make sure it pointed west. "Why do I have to wait until after dinner to unwrap my gift?" Traci asked, after she read the label on her gift from Santa. "Maybe because you were naughty this year?" Rose asked. "I wasn't naughty!" "Oh no, dragging your boyfriend into the girl's res..." I was unable to complete my sentence because of the pillow thrown into my face. This brought on an assault of questions upon Traci and me. I guessed that she did not share all of her experiences with her family and friends. We only had to endure it for a minute because the phone started to ring. When Traci jumped up, I told her to let Rose answer it. That earned me questioning looks from both girls since Rose was furthest from the phone, but Rose bemusedly hurried over at my insistence. "Hello? Hi, Pollyanna. Yes, Chad already gave us our presents. What! You're shitting me. I know, I can't believe it. Oh my god, it's going to be so much fun! Yeah, well, Mrs. Caspar stopped her before she had the chance. Okay, I'll talk to you later. I love you!" Rose hung up the phone and said, "That was Pollyanna. Her parents gave her a plane ticket to Japan. It just happens to be during the same time we are going. I wonder how they knew that we were going?" She looked at me when she said that last part. I had approached Pollyanna's parents about my plan, and they had insisted on paying for Pollyanna's ticket. I agreed, but I refused their offer to pay for her hotel; I told them that I was already paying for Rose's room and that I did not think Pollyanna would need a separate room. They relented, and told me that if the two girls' broke up before then, then they would pay for Pollyanna's room. I highly doubted it, so I conceded their point. Rose and Pollyanna were very much in love -- but, then again, young love is a fickle thing. "Traci, would you mind?" I asked my girlfriend when the phone began to ring again. I did not have to ask twice because my girlfriend scrambled to answer the phone. I do not think it rung more than twice before she reached it. Her squeal of joy and one-sided conversation clued in the rest of us who was on the other end. After she hung up, she confirmed it. "Michelle and Marge are going to be joining us on our trip!" exclaimed my excited girl. "If we decide to go, you mean," Marge added. She was unable to suppress her grin at the looks her daughters gave her and added, "Okay, we're going." The Caspar girls gave their mother a hug, so I went over to Rose and gave her a hug. "Don't want you to feel left out," I said to her. "Thank you," and Rose did something for the very first time: she gave me a kiss on the lips. It was just a peck, but it surprised me. "What do you think you're doing, kissing my boyfriend?" my girlfriend inquired, having finished hugging her mother. Rose shot back, "Trying to steal him away from ya." We all chuckled, and I realized I still had my hands on Rose's hips so I removed them and went over to my girlfriend. I gave her a much longer kiss than the one that I had just received. That seemed to quell any feelings of jealousy from her, even mock ones. After we cleaned up the mess we made unwrapping the gifts, Marge, Rose, and Lori headed to the kitchen to start on Christmas dinner. We were going to be having lamb, and they wanted to start on the side dishes first. A few of them had been prepared the night before, but they still had some work cut out for them. "Why aren't you in there with them?" I asked Traci, who had cuddled up to me on the couch. "I don't know. Mom and Lori always cook Christmas Dinner." "Perhaps you might want to go in there and learn what to do. You do know that whomever I marry will end up being barefoot, pregnant, and cooking in the kitchen for me?" "So, we'll keep Rose with us when we get married." "Or I could just marry Rose instead. She is a better cook than you, after all." I had just been playing around but, once again, I had gone too far. Rose was a better cook than Traci was, and Traci knew it. Traci wanted to be perfect for me -- something that I had told her was not necessary, but it still was something she strove for. She got up before I could stop her and went into the kitchen. An amused Lori came out of the kitchen a few minutes later. "Too many cooks spoil the lamb." She joined me on the couch, and I had her cuddle up with me as her sister had been. In a low voice, I asked her, "Is everything still okay?" Replying in the same low tone, she answered, "Yeah. Mom is going to drive you and take care of..." "What are you two doing?" asked my girlfriend. "Just keeping him warm for you," replied her sister. "I needed a cuddle buddy," was my reply. Traci walked up to stand in front of us. She still had on her pajamas, but was wearing an apron over them. She still had the carrot and peeler in her hands; apparently, she had glanced into the living room to see where Lori had gone. The conflict on Traci's face was fun to watch. She looked torn between learning to be a better cook or cuddling with me. I had already lost my battle from being allowed to enter the kitchen by Marge and Rose a few nights prior; if she wanted to be with me, it would have to be out in the living room. Lori decided to help her sister with her decision so she scooted away from me. I mimicked Traci's pout at the eldest Caspar sister, which earned a laugh from her. Traci just rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen. After a quick glance to see that Traci was out of earshot, I continued the conversation that the two of us were having before we were interrupted. The dinner was quite enjoyable, and Traci pointed out everything that she had helped with, making sure I had at least seconds of those items. At least this time, Traci did not rush eating, but that might have been because her mom had told her that the faster she ate, the slower the rest of us would. After we all had finished dessert, we all headed back into the living room to watch Traci unwrap her present. Traci was confused when she unwrapped her present and said, "Maybe Santa got me confused with Lori." That brought a chuckle from us and an internal wince from me. I had indeed bought Traci's gift with Lori in mind. I at least did not include the ball gag that it came with. Marge approached Traci and took Traci's present away from her. She placed the black leather hood on my girlfriend's head; with the ease that she handled herself, it appeared that it was not the first time she had to deal with such a contraption. When I had run by my plan with the rest of the ladies, it was Rose who pointed out that a simple blindfold would be ineffective, since Traci would find some way to peek out from under it. Lori asked me if I had a hood like she had read about, and I had to admit I had ordered one for the dungeon. She got a laugh from her mother when she gave a pout and whined that it was not fair that her sister got to use one before she did. "Traci, how many fingers am I holding up?" asked Rose. Traci answered, "One, and you had better stop doing that." Everybody but Traci laughed. Rose raised two more fingers to join the middle one that she was holding up and asked again. When Traci guessed four, we decided she could not see. "She could just be faking. Maybe we should try another test," suggested Rose. Marge walked up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave a rather surprised me an intense French kiss. I vaguely heard Lori ask Traci whom I was kissing. I heard Traci struggle with the straps, and when her answer of "Rose" was answered with a no, she struggled faster. I broke my kiss with the oldest Caspar lady, and I saw Traci was trying to yank the hood off her head with no success. I walked up to her and grabbed her wrists lightly. She stopped struggling and said, "You had better not of been kissing my mother." Marge answered, "I guess you will never know." Traci was still fuming when we escorted her to Marge's car. It was parked inside the garage; the sight of a teenage girl wearing a leather hood would have been hard to explain to the neighbors. She was guided into the backseat, and I got in on the other side of her to prevent her from undoing the hood and ruining the surprise. Marge got into the driver's seat and, after the garage door was open, we were off. I almost wished I had included the ball gag when Traci started asking her questions. I decided to use the next best thing and ended up making out with my girlfriend for the twenty-minute ride. I knew that my tongue would be rather busy that night, but hopefully it was not going to be the sole tool in my arsenal. I had positioned Traci so that she was lying down flat on the backseat with me lying mostly on top of her by the time Marge pulled up in front of the reception. She was only gone for five minutes and when she returned, she drove us to the room. The inn I had chosen was a unique place. All of their buildings were painted pink, and each room had a different theme. I had found a website that had pictures of the different rooms and enlisted the help of Marge to procure the room. The inn would only rent the room to someone who was over eighteen and would not accept a credit card prepayment without a photo ID being faxed to them. The next best thing that I could come up with was having Marge check in for us and give me the key. At least the building that the room I wanted was in wasn't near the reception, otherwise there would have been too many questions. Marge retrieved our overnight bags from the trunk; she had packed Traci's for her the previous day while her daughter was out of the house. I helped Traci out of the car. The two of us walked Traci to the door, and Marge unlocked the door for us. She handed me the key and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Marge then shocked me, and then Traci when she realized it, by giving her daughter a deep kiss. Her daughter recoiled in shock when she figured out that it was not me who was kissing her. Marge just chuckled at our reactions. Marge then gave me a look that said 'you had better treat my daughter right', so I tried to answer it with an 'I will' look. She nodded, turned, and went to her car. I watched her pull out, then I escorted my girlfriend into the room that I had rented. I began to undo the straps on the hood and had to tell my girlfriend twice not to try to help. When I had the last one undone, I quickly pulled off the hood from her. She blinked a couple of times, and then took in the room. "Oh my god, where are we?" she asked. The room that I had found was one that looked as if it was straight from a castle. It walls were made to appear as if they were stone blocks, and the décor was as if it was taken directly from Traci's favorite movie. When I turned on the lights, it seemed that one of the switches was for the fireplace because it came to life. A four-poster, king-sized bed seemed to draw Traci's eye. After taking in the room, she turned and gave me a hug. "Is tonight the night?" she asked me. "Only if you want it to be." "Yes, Chad, please make love to me," whispered Traci, into my ear. "As you wish." ------- Chapter 16 I broke the hug that Traci and I were in and looked deep into her hazel eyes. I found myself drowning in them. Traci pulled me in, and we shared a tender, loving kiss. There was no rush or pressure behind the kiss, just two sets of lips softly exploring each other. After a minute of this, we stopped kissing. There was a slight flush to Traci and, at that moment, I wondered if it matched the flush that I felt in my cheeks. I had to take a deep breath and exhale. When I found my voice, I said, "My love, why don't you take the overnight bag your mom and sister packed for you into the bathroom, and I'll get ready out here." Our eyes gazed longingly at one another for the briefest of moments, then Traci nodded, gathered her bag, and went into the bathroom. I grabbed my bag and, after I had removed my clothes, I fished out a silk robe and put it on. I also removed a few towels that I had brought from home and strategically placed them on the bed. While I waited for my beloved to emerge from the bathroom, I also checked under my armpits, making sure that my scent was not too offensive. The third time I caught myself doing that, I realized that I had forgotten to brush my teeth after Christmas dinner. I grabbed the bottle of mouthwash from my bag and, without haste, gargled. Not finding anywhere to spit out the mouthwash, I opened up the door and spit into the parking lot. When I closed the door, I realized that I was a nervous wreck. This would not, by far, be the first time I have had sexual intercourse. It was, however, the first time I was going to be making love. I caught myself letting out an audible gasp when Traci emerged from the bathroom. Marge had found a white nightgown that was similar to the bridal gown the princess wore in Traci's favorite movie, though the movie's version was nowhere near as transparent as the one that Traci wore. As attractive as Robin Wright was, she was a pale comparison to how beautiful Traci looked. I walked over to her, took her hand in mine, and led her to the bed. When we sat down on the edge of it, I checked one final time. "My wonderful Traci, I know I sprung this upon you rather suddenly, but are you sure you want to go through with this? I would, without a doubt in my mind, be perfectly content if we did nothing further but held each other." Traci paused for a second before she replied, "Chad, this might sound lame, but it's as if I have lived my whole life just for this moment. Of course, I'm ready." As joyous as those words sounded to me, part of me felt like I was a scumbag. Traci was going to make love to somebody she did not truly know, an imposter. Everything she knew about me was a lie, and I was too chicken to tell her the truth. Repeatedly, I had told myself that it was for her own good. If she knew the truth about me, it would put her life in danger. The oath of secrecy was essential to her well-being, and to the well-being of those around her. I buried those thoughts of betrayal and focused on the girl in front of me, instead. This would be her first time, and I wanted to make sure it was as special to her as she was to me. We started slow, just allowing our lips to explore one another. While it was familiar territory for both of us, it felt as if it was the very first time. The sheer white nightgown did little to conceal the effects of the kiss; her hard nipples stood out proud against the transparent material. I leisurely raised my hands up and began to caress her through the flimsy gown. When we broke the kiss, I guided her back so that her upper body was lying flat on the bed. I resumed my kissing her; this time, I started my kisses on her adorable button nose, brushed my lips briefly against hers, and worked my way down to her chin. I then worked my way down her throat and reached the apex of where her nightgown and flesh met. I untied the shoulder straps and peeled down the gown, exposing her budding breasts. Her breathing grew more rapid in anticipation of my lips making contact with her breasts. She arched her back slightly as soon as my mouth touched her skin. Working from the base of her left bosom, I made my way to her nipple, running my tongue in a slow, almost imperceptible pace. When I reached the hardened tip, I sucked it into my mouth, applying gentle suction while my tongue darted back and forth over the sensitive nipple. Traci let out a deep moan and raised her hands to my head, holding it there. When I lifted my head, I had to fight her for a microsecond before she realized I was moving to her right breast. I repeated the process, in reverse order. Then, starting with her nipple, I worked my way down to the base of her succulent breast. When I reached the bottom, I began my trailing kisses again, this time working my way down her gown. I climbed off the bed and sank to my knees between her sprawled legs. I took her left heel in my hand, and I kissed the top of her foot. I worked my kisses up her leg until I reached the nightgown. I gathered up the hem of her nightgown and slowly lifted it, kissing her exposed flesh as I worked my way up. When I reached her left knee, I set down her leg and began the process with her right leg. By the time I had reached her right knee, my impatient darling had reached down and pulled her gown up, exposing her divine privates. I smiled to myself and decided that I had done enough teasing, so set myself upon the feast that lay before me. I plunged my face into her mouthwatering sex, savoring the scent of her excitement, the taste of her nectar that was flowing from her, the heat it was radiating. My tongue ran along the outer edge of her mons, gathering the fluid that had strayed there. My lips brushed her pink slit, further raising her excitement, but the pressure I applied was light. When she arched her pelvis up at me, I moved my lips to the top of her slit. My kiss to the top of her slit started off softly, but I gradually increased pressure. I then used my tongue to separate her nether lips, and ran my tongue up and down the layers of her pussy flesh. I began to plunge my tongue in and out, as deep as I could into her vaginal orifice. Traci's moans grew louder the faster I tongue-fucked her. Her juices were flowing from her, and I greedily sucked them up. Her nubbin had grown hard enough that it was peeking out from its hood. I brought my tongue up to the top of her slit and began to lick around the skin that covered her tiny pearl. Bringing my hands up, I gently pulled away her pussy lips and began to flick my tongue against her clit. I quickly darted my tongue over it, which caused her legs to shudder. Sensing that she was getting close to her orgasm, I drew two of my fingers on my right hand to my mouth and coated them with saliva. After making sure that they were well lubricated, I slowly inserted them into her while my mouth returned to her pearl of pleasure. My fingers began to mimic what my tongue had been doing before, though I started off at an ever-so-slow pace. As I worked my fingers in her, I took her clit into my mouth and began to suck her gently. As I increased the tempo of my fingers, I sucked on her clit harder. I knew that Traci was just on the edge so, instead of seeking her G spot with my fingers, I began to corkscrew them. Her moans turned into a scream of ecstasy when I darted my tongue quickly over her clit, so I sucked even harder. As her pelvis bucked during her orgasm, I kept my mouth glued to her clit. Once she passed her crescendo, I began to gently move my fingers in her extremely sensitive pussy while I pressed my tongue along the underside of her clit, leaving my lips covering the top. It only took me another thirty seconds before sending her into her second orgasm of the afternoon. When Traci came down from that climax, I stood up and removed my robe. Traci looked confused, at first, when I moved away from her and crawled on top of the bed. I positioned myself in the center, lying on my back with my ass over one of the towels that I had laid out. I announced, "I think that, since this is your first time, you should be the one to mount me. That way you can control how fast or slow we go." It took her a moment, to realize what I meant, and a grin grew across her face. While she was quite lubricated, she figured that she might as well help matters and drew my erect cock into her mouth. She used her saliva to coat my manhood, along with the precum that had started to gather ever since Traci had emerged from the bathroom. She knew better than to try to get me off; instead, she briefly savored the taste of me before removing her mouth and straddling my legs. She then slid up my body until her sex was making contact with my hard cock. She grabbed the base of it, then she ran the head between her folds until she reached her opening. She ever-so-slowly began her decent. I lay perfectly still, fighting the urge to thrust my pelvis upward. A year prior, I had gone to the Navy Seal's Sniper Course, in which I had to stalk my target through heavy woods and then an open field. I was five hundred meters away when I thought I had been spotted. I ended up lying motionless for seven hours, even going as far as urinating in my pants (after making sure I was downwind of the target), until I was certain I was in the clear and could begin moving again. The overwhelming ache to move I felt back then was nothing compared to the desire that I had at that moment to drive my manhood deep into Traci. The sensations of her heat and of her tight passage engulfing the head of my penis was overwhelming. I focused my attention on Traci's expression. She was looking down at our joining, her left hand holding the base of my cock and her right pressed down on my chest, balancing her. She was so transfixed at what she was doing, her concentration was almost comical. For myself, it was if a velvet glove was gripping me as I felt myself slide another inch into her tight passage. She lifted her hips slightly, withdrawing from me a little before pushing down a little further and deeper. While I have always been considerate of the well-being of my sexual partner, never had I been so consumed with the desire to make sure I was not hurting my precious angel. I think my heart skipped a beat when I saw Traci bite her bottom lip and a look of discomfort cross her face as my manhood delved past the well-explored outer region of her pussy that my fingers had previously gone. It was when I raised my right hand to her face that I realized both my hands had been clutching the bedcovering. I gently lifted her head so that she would look me into the eyes, breaking her stare at our joining. I gave her my most reassuring smile and said, "Relax, my love. If it becomes too painful, we can stop. There is no rush, and I will be perfectly content if this is the furthest we go." Traci gave me one of her cocky grins and replied, "Oh, Chad, I think we can go a little further," and with that she rose up and then sunk down another inch. I saw her shudder, and all my instincts told me it was from discomfort and not pleasure. She held still for half a minute before trying her descent again. When she found that she could not lower herself anymore, and that she only had me halfway into her pussy, she began to work with the area that she had covered. She rose up until the head of my cock was at the verge of coming out of her sex, and then she slowly sunk back down until she matched her previous depth. She repeated the process, gradually building up speed then, on one of her descents, she forced herself down another two inches. My cock was three-fourths of the way in her, but she wanted the last two inches. With a determined look on her face, she began to rock herself up and down, trying to work her way onto my shaft. After more than a dozen thrusts, she found herself fully impaled on my cock, her pelvis pressed against mine. She gave me a triumphant grin and, once again, I knew I would do anything in this world (except quit smoking) for her. As our eyes locked, I felt our souls merging like our bodies were one. I just hoped that my dark soul would never stain her pure white one. It took her a minute to get comfortable with the length and girth of my manhood. With both of her hands pressing down on my chest for balance, she closed her eyes and began a slow, rocking motion with her hips. I brought up both hands and reassuringly caressed her back. When Traci began to moan softly, I tentatively began to rock my hips to match hers. My first pelvic thrust caused her to open her eyes in surprise, and a gasp escaped from her lips. It seemed to be one of pleasure, so when she increased her tempo, I matched it. Traci began to experiment a little and started to shift her body around. When she found a position that allowed my cock to simulate her G spot, she kept it and began to ride me in earnest. The volume of her moans started to increase and, to my surprise, it seemed she was close to another climax. To help matters, I removed my right hand from her back and brought my thumb to my mouth. I made sure it was well coated with saliva before it found its new target, her clitoris. While I was busy repositioning my right hand, my left also moved from her back, but this time it sought out her right breast. I began to knead it the same time my thumb made contact with her sensitive clit. The combination was too much for my poor Traci, and it sent her over the edge into orgasm. The sensation of her vaginal walls clenching my cock while she was in the throes of her orgasm was almost enough for me to release my seed into her. I had to rock my hips a few times after she came down from her climax to erupt inside of her. She let out another loud moan as she felt spurt after spurt fill her. When she felt my dick shudder for the last time, she collapsed into my chest. I wrapped both arms around her and held her to me, her breathing still ragged. Our hot, sweaty bodies pressed against each other, her head turned to the side. When she had finally composed herself, she lifted up slightly to look me in the face. "Oh my God, is it always that good?" she asked in disbelief. I could not contain my grin, her expression was so full of awe. I responded; "Only when it is with the person you love." I almost added, 'Or when I have sex with Fran', but I knew that would be the worst possible thing to do. If I had done that, I knew I would be damned to the 583rd level of the Abyss, the place they reserve for child molesters, IRS accountants, and assholes who make lame jokes while deflowering virgins. "How do you feel?" I asked her, after she had finished kissing me for saying the correct thing. "Well, it felt painful at first, but it went away after a while. I think I am a little tender, though." I raised my head up and gave her a quick peck on the lips. She felt my cock begin to soften, so she lifted her hips and withdrew my manhood from her. She gave a gasp of surprise when she saw some blood coating my cock. "I don't understand. I lost my cherry a long time ago." Traci had told me about the bike accident she had when she was in fourth grade. She had gone home, crying, and her concerned father examined her. When he found out what was wrong, he then told her that she was fine and explained what had happened to her. He then proceeded to educate her in sexual intercourse. Being the doctor that John Caspar was, the medical explanation sorely confused Traci, so it was not until she talked to her mother later that evening that some of the stuff start to make sense to the nine-year-old. I reached over for the other towel that I had placed on the bed and began to wipe my cock clean. When I finished with myself, I turned my attention to my girlfriend's sex and began to wipe off some of the excess fluid that had begun to seep from her. "Don't worry, it's not all blood, it has just mixed with some of your secretions. While you did tear your hymen before, this time we tore it a little further. There might be some bleeding the next few times we do it, especially if we try different positions." "Next time? Isn't once good enough for you?" Traci jokingly said. "Love, I would be perfectly content if this is the most we ever do. Then again, I would be in Nirvana if we did every position in the Karma Sutra, and perhaps even came up with a few new techniques, as well." She gave me a playful slap and said, "At least let me get cleaned up first." "Allow me," and I started to move my head towards her pussy. She let out a little shriek and cried out, "No way! There is no way I'm going to let you eat me out now, especially if my blood's in the mix." She then got up and retreated to the bathroom. I rolled off the bed and examined the towel that I had been lying on. While some of our combined juices had drained down and seeped into the towel, there were no traces of blood on it. I had not expected much bleeding, since I had become an expert on Traci's hymen over the past couple of months of eating her pussy, but it was safer than being sorry. There was no way that I was going to pay the ridiculous price for new towels that the inn charged. On the other hand, it would have been amusing for the housekeepers to find traces of the deflowering, especially since the room was registered to Marge. When I heard the shower turned on, I got up to join Traci. As I began my journey to the bathroom, I spotted my cigarette case on the floor; it had spilled from my pants pocket. After I fished my lighter from my pants, I donned my robe, made a detour from my original destination, and stepped outside the room. I had promised myself that I would do everything to ensure that the day would be devoted to Traci's well-being, but I only knew a few things better than a post coitus cigarette. When I smoking my second cigarette, I realized that the things that I thought were better than an after-sex cigarette were all stuff that I had discovered after leaving the Compound: Traci, her family and friends, the guys in the anime club, emotions. I still had a third of the coffin nail left when I flicked the butt into the parking lot. I resolved myself that, for at least the rest of the day, I could go without smoking. I headed back into the room. The shower had ceased, so I quickly disrobed and got back on the bed. When Traci emerged from the bathroom, she shot me a smile and said, "Bathroom's free, so you might as well go brush your teeth." The distance from the bathroom to bed was considerable, so I knew that there was no way she could detect my nefarious deed, especially over the odor of our lovemaking. Traci knew that I could not resist myself and had gone out and had a cigarette. I tried not to look guilty as I retrieved my toothbrush and toothpaste from my bag and trotted to the bathroom. The little pixie surprised me when she gave me a slap on my bare ass as I passed her. While I was in the bathroom, I used that time to take a wet washcloth and take care of anything that my towel had missed. After I had insured that my mouth was well cleaned and that there were no traces of my smoking, I headed back into the room. Traci had crawled under the covers and was sitting in bed with a couple of pillows propped up behind her and her chest exposed to my gaze. She was smiling at me when I approached her, and arched her eyebrow when she saw the effect that her bare breasts were having on me. "Round two?" she asked hopefully. I stopped beside the bed and looked down at her. "You up for it?" I inquired. She grinned and shot back, "I think so. And I can see that you're already up!" With that, she reached out and gently wrapped her hand around my stiffening cock. I moved closer to the bed, while at the same time Traci scooted over towards me. She began to manipulate me with her soft hand, slowly and lightly running her fingers along the edges of my penis. She then stuck out her tongue and ran it along the slit of my cock, licking up the drop of precum that had started to ooze from the head. She then proceeded to run her lips along the side of my cock, giving the hardened flesh little teasing kisses before returning to the top and engulfing the head into her warm mouth. The position that we were in, her lying on the bed with me standing, made it difficult for Traci to move her mouth up and down over my cock, so I assisted her by thrusting my hips back and forth. She quickly picked up on what I was doing and held her head still as I fucked her mouth. I reached down with my right hand and rested it on her head while my left hand began to play with her nipples. She hesitated for a moment when I told her to reach down and play with her pussy. I assured her that it was okay, and that we needed to make sure she was well lubricated for sex. I saw movement under the sheets as she began to rub herself and, not wanting to miss anything, I removed my hand from her breasts and tossed the sheets down so I could see her. She froze when I uncovered her. "Don't stop. You look so sexy playing with yourself." She began her self-stimulation again and, after a while, I noticed that she had started to thrust her finger in her sex at the same tempo that I was fucking her mouth. After I was sure we were both well lubricated, I pulled back from her and crawled between her legs. Traci spread her legs, opening herself up to me. Her pink, smooth, lips were flushed with excitement, and she used her fingers to open herself for me. I guided the head of my cock to her still-tight opening and slowly inserted myself into her. I dared not try to impale her with one thrust, since I knew that was something that would require lots of time to pass (and many frequent sex sessions that I was all-too-willing to partake in), so I only thrust into her halfway before stopping. I withdrew partway, then sunk myself a little further in. I slowly began my descent, working myself deeper and deeper with each thrust until I bottomed out. As I was doing that, I kept my eyes locked on her face, looking for any signs of discomfort. She had her eyes closed but, from the moans of pleasure that came from her, I did not think I was hurting her. Her pelvis started to match my thrusts, trying to meet me halfway each time I plunged into her. As I began to lengthen my strokes, she started to moan even louder. I had my upper body weight supported by my hands, so leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. Her eyes did not open at that, but her mouth did, and our tongues began their usual dance of passion. She did open her eyes when I broke the kiss, and I said, "Play with your nipples." She looked a little embarrassed at first to be doing it, but that quickly changed back to the look of bliss on her face as she realized how much better it felt. As her breathing grew more rapid, I told her to use one of her hands to play with her clit. Without hesitation, her hand left her breast and sought out her clit. In less than fifteen seconds after being told to manipulate her clit, she began to shake as an orgasm rolled through her body. I increased my tempo and began to pound her hard as she rode through her orgasm, which turned into one long, continuous one. When she stopped shuddering, she begged me to stop, so I did. I started to withdraw my member from her, but she said, "No, leave it in there. I like the feeling of you filling me. Just don't move for a little bit." After a little while, she tentatively began to gyrate her hips, signaling that it was okay to continue. I slid my right arm behind her back, and Traci gave me a surprised look when I suddenly pulled her up. We were still joined together, but I shifted my weight back and moved my arms behind me to support our weight. She instinctively brought her hands to my sides and tucked her legs astride me. "It's just like the first time. You can control the strokes and, if I'm lucky, you should be able to stimulate your G spot," I said to my confused girlfriend. Traci got her feet firmly planted on the bed and then began to lift herself off my penis. She rose halfway off me before letting her weight bring her back down, understanding dawning on her face. It only took her a few strokes to find the right rhythm and position for her maximum pleasure. Ever since I had entered Traci, I had been in bliss, so I doubted there was anything she could do that would make it less enjoyable for me. She had loosened slightly throughout our lovemaking, but her pussy was still incredibly tight, and it took most of my willpower not to come. I wanted at least one more orgasm from her before I shot my second load of the day. The position that I was in did not allow me to use my hands on her, but she used hers on me. Our eyes gazed into each other as she caressed my cheek. I kept telling her how much I loved her and that she meant the world to me. I could tell that she was close, even without her vocalizing it. I felt the inner walls of her vagina began their almost milking-like sensation and, as much as I wanted for her to come first, I felt the familiar tingling in my balls, and my semen spurted into her. She apparently felt my seed flow into her pussy, and that must have been the catalyst that sent her over the edge into her orgasm. While not exactly simultaneous, it was extremely close. Traci crumbled into my chest but, this time, I was unable to wrap my arms around her since I was supporting us. She saw my dilemma and dismounted me. If there were any traces of blood, they were so minute that they were undetectable to the human eye. I think it was this fact that caused Traci to reach down and gather our combined juices on her finger. She brought it to her mouth, eyed it carefully, then sucked her finger into her mouth. Once she made sure that she had gathered all of the fluid from her digit, she took her finger out of the mouth and gave me a grin. It must have been the erotic sight of seeing my love enjoying the combined fluids of our union that caused the involuntary flexing of my cock. Traci saw that and incredulously asked, "Not again?" I grinned, shook my head, and replied, "No. I need at least five minutes before I can go again." She was astounded and said, "I can see why you having a sex slave could be handy. There is no way I could handle that thing inside me in five minutes." "I was just fooling. I may be almost sixteen, but I doubt I could go again so quickly." Again, I fought the urge to add, 'unless it was with Fran' to the end of my confession. Instead, I said, "Need at least eight minutes, nine tops." I dodged the pillow that she swung at me, the grin on her face telegraphing what she had planned. I playfully tackled her, and we both ended up lying on our sides on the bed. We were both chuckling at our actions and gazing into each other's eyes. I reached out and began to stroke her cheek. "Okay, for real now. In ten minutes, we'll go again," which resulted in Traci laughing more. "Fine, you start without me. I'll call Lori to see if she can come down and take my place." "Hey, you're the one who said I can't last more than five minutes..." Traci said, "Okay, I was wrong. Knowing you, you have a stopwatch in your bag." Traci rolled over to her other side, and began to scooch back, her signal telling me she wanted to spoon with me. I slid forward and wrapped my arms around her neck. Sweat coated our bodies, and we were both still very warm, but the warmth of holding the person you love was a different type. We were also both quite exhausted, and I vaguely remembered her grunting to my comment about going again in fifteen minutes. ------- About an hour had elapsed after Traci and I had fallen asleep, when her stirring woke me up. When she sensed that I was awake, she turned to face me. "I'm sorry, Chad; I didn't mean to wake you up." "Don't be silly. I guess you're ready for another round," I said with a grin. She rolled her eyes and said, "No, but I'm sure you're just dying to ravish my poor, defenseless body again -- and again, and again." I sat up and rolled out of bed. A look of apprehension crossed her face when I went around and held my hand out to her. After she placed her hand in mine, I helped her to her feet and walked the two of us to the bathroom. When I started the water in the tub, she understood what I was doing. We both had the dried juices of our lovemaking smothered on our groins, and it was quite uncomfortable. I think the running water triggered something in Traci, because she asked me to leave the bathroom. "Why?" She blushed, and I was amused by her embarrassment. During the short period that we had been sharing the same room, she still was uncomfortable using the toilet in front of me. I was pretty certain that watersports (no, not water polo) and scat was not in the cards for the future. She finally shooed me out of the bathroom, and she even went as far as to lock the door. After a minute, I heard the toilet flush and the sound of the door being unlocked. It wasn't the sound of the running water that had caused my urgency to surface, but the idea of her using the toilet brought out my own need to pee. The after-sex piss was not as highly ranked as the post coitus cigarette, but it was pretty darn close. It took a couple of attempts before I could manage a straight stream of urine but, once I got it, I enjoyed the exquisite sensation of emptying my bladder. Traci had turned away, embarrassed, when I had entered the bathroom and she had seen what I was up to. I did make a big production of lowering the seat when I was finished. Traci had not found it amusing when I had left the toilet seat up the first time she discovered it. She did not find the second or third time funny, either. She told me that she could not understand how a guy who can remember phone numbers only after hearing them once could not seem to remember to put down the toilet seat. I never could find the heart to tell her that I found it entertaining to hear her yelp of surprise when her cute sexy ass made unexpected contact with the cold porcelain. I knew I was going to the 286th layer of the Abyss for it (that whole level was set aside for boyfriends and spouses who left the toilet seat up). After making sure that the temperature was just right, I switched the knob to turn on the shower. Traci and I then got in and proceeded to wash each other. In the time that Traci had been living with me, she had switched her schedule from showering in the morning to mine of showering/bathing at night. She was reluctant, at first, since she had always showered before school, but she soon discovered that washing in the evening allowed for more playful games to occur whereas, in the morning, there was little time for much else except cleaning. We did the quick shower routine, where we would wash each other's bodies without spending too much time in any particular area and, after making sure we were both clean, we would then draw a bath and soak in it. I knew that our activities had been draining on my poor girl; the positions where she was dominating were more taxing than most others were. It was a tradeoff: the more pleasure and control that the woman had, the more physically exhausted they were after. The room's bathtub was smaller than the one that Traci and I used at home, but it was still rather large and comfortable for two people to share. She took her usual position between my legs, her back pressed into my chest and my arms wrapped around her waist. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the sensation of the hot water that engulfed us. "Honestly, how many more times could we have sex until we have to leave?" It has become an unwritten rule that, when she started off a question using 'honestly', it meant that she did not want any of my tomfoolery and wanted to know the truth. I would respect her question and answer her truthfully (within reason). "If push came to shove," (she gave a small giggle at my pun), "I could maybe cum three or four more times before checkout tomorrow. However, since you said sex, I think once or twice is more likely." She rolled over in the bathtub so that she could face me, her hands pressed into my chest so she could look into my eyes with my groin pressed into her stomach. My hands naturally went down to cup her tight ass. "Why the difference?" she asked. "Well, for starters, I don't think your poor pussy can stand too much more. This is your first time having sex and, unlike some macho jocks, I don't like having my women walking funny afterwards. Also, there is my poor cock to consider. I don't know how much more pressure it can withstand in your delightfully tight opening. Finally, there is just sheer exhaustion. Making love is more draining than masturbation or even oral sex." She thought for a moment and said, "I think you might be right. I mean, I still feel some discomfort at times, but then you seem to make the pain be washed away in pleasure." I lifted my head and kissed her cute button nose. "Honey, you need to help yourself, as well. There is nothing wrong with telling me what to do or playing with your nipples and clit to help you reach orgasm. Guys have it easy; if it's warm, moist, and tight, it will do. Heck, two out of three will still get it done, most times, and even one out of three will work in a pinch." She giggled at my assessment of what guys needed to cum. She turned back around and settled into her usual bathing position. She wiggled her sexy little ass against my cock and, while not fully engorged, it did have some stiffness to it. I sent a little mental command to it, and she jumped slightly when she felt it stir. "Oh no, not again," she theatrically moaned. I chuckled, and she let out a giggle. "No, this tub might have enough room, but I would rather wait and christen our tub, instead, if we decide to have sex in water. Also, I don't want to get dinged with any hotel damages." "What, I'm not worth it?" she mockingly asked. "Dear, there is nothing in the world that is worth more than you; however, I would rather save the money and dine on fugu instead of having to pay for water damages that we could avoid." "What's... wait a second. Am I worth more than cigarettes?" 'No, but Fran is, ' I thought to myself, but I did not want my soul to be split into two different planes of the Abyss, so I wisely said nothing. When I remained silent after she repeated her question, she figured that she needed a more direct approach. I felt her start to reach down behind her, and my urgent attempts to squirm away were in vain, since the tub prevented a quick retreat. When she latched on to her objective, she asked one more time. "Yes, you are worth more than cigarettes," I relented, especially after a not-too-gentle squeeze. "And you will give up smoking so that you and I can grow old together?" Again, I could have repeated after her, inserting Fran's name instead of hers, but it wasn't fear of the Abyss that held me back; it was the firm grip Traci had on my cock. "I shall try, in the New Year, to stop smoking only on the weekend." "TRY to stop smoking ONLY on the weekend?!?" Mishigas, why did I have to end up with a smart girlfriend, I thought to myself. Not only had she found an effective way of torture, she picked up on my clever choice of words. "I shall try my best not to smoke in the New Year." Satisfied with the result she had achieved, she released her grip on me. I probably could have withstood more of her torture if I hadn't spent the past few hours rubbing myself raw inside of her tight, vise-like velvet sheath. "You know, you most likely put me out of commission -- not only for the rest of the day, but for at least a week." "Good. If it means that you will stop smoking, it was worth it." Less than ten seconds after I made my resolution, I begin scheming for a way out of it. I had an idea I wanted to try, but it would have to wait until the New Year. I decided that since she no longer had her grip on me, that it was a wise time to make an escape. After I had dried off, I went back into the bedroom and took out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt from my overnight bag. As I was putting my clothes on, Traci came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. "What are you doing?" she asked me. "I'm going to go outside to find us a vending machine. I don't know about you, but I'm parched." She nodded, but then she pointed out, "You don't need your cigarette case to get drinks." I thought I had done a sly pocketing of my cigarette case and lighter, but I was not sneaky enough. Caught, I tried to change the subject, "You want to come along with me?" "I'm kinda tired, so I think I'll lie down for a moment. If you're not back in thirty minutes from your 'drink run', I'll be out searching for you," Traci said to me with an understanding smile. As I stepped out the front door of the hotel room, I once again marveled at my girlfriend. There were times that she could be so pigheaded about my smoking, and then others sympathetic. As I took a drag off my cigarette, I came to the conclusion that women simply make no sense. It was easy to predict how men would react when a situation arose, but the more time I spent around the women in my life, the more I discovered that they would usually opt for the most illogical course of action. I just knew that if Fran ever started smoking, then Traci would pick up the filthy habit, even if she hated doing it. The drink vending machine was only a five-minute journey away and, during that time, I reviewed the events of the afternoon. Traci's discomfort had largely disappeared by the second round of intercourse, but then again, she might be trying to hide it from me. Logically, if she were in pain, she would tell me. However, with my newest hypothesis, she could be trying to hide it from me. 'I'll have to keep an eye on her, ' I thought to myself. I stopped dead in my tracks when I realized that there were a couple of times that I had closed my eyes while I was having sex with Traci. Not only that, over the past few months that we had been having oral sex, I had closed my eyes fairly often. Never in my life had I ever done that. I always kept my eyes on my partner, even during the workshops where I was practicing with another agent. I always considered my sexual partner as a potential target, and part of my mind would look for the best place and time to strike. It hit me like ton of bricks that I had never thought of Traci like that. Not only had I only looked at her as a lover, I had allowed my defenses down to enjoy the sensations instead of being on guard for ambush. When I recovered from my revelation, I restarted my journey to the machine. I ended up buying four diet sodas, since I was unsure how thirsty Traci might be. I also snuffed out my almost non-existent cigarette and lit up a new one. On my way back to the room, I started to wonder if it was just Traci, or would I have sex like that with other women. Kreteno, I thought to myself; what an ego I had. Not even had five hours passed since I took Traci's virginity, and already I was thinking about sex with other women. I wanted to believe myself when I had told Traci that, if I never did anything sexual with her, that I would be perfectly content. Why did I find it highly doubtful? There was a bench near the room, so I decided to cool my heels there while I finished off another two or three cigarettes. I had left my watch at home but, since it takes me five minutes per cigarette, I justified to myself that I had to chain-smoke them so I would know when thirty minutes had elapsed. Never mind that I could usually tell how much time had passed with my internal clock, plus or minus a minute for every hour that went by. Checking first to make sure nobody was watching, I flicked my fifth cigarette butt into the parking lot. Again, I was pleased with the results. It had gone exactly where I had aimed and landed where I expected. Cigarettes were the perfect tool for any agent to carry. They were good for social engagements or as impromptu weapons, delayed fuses, ignition sources, etc. Small problem: I was no longer an active agent. Granted, I most likely would not have had as many opportunities for discussions with Jean if the two of us were not both smokers, but I doubt that excuse was strong enough to justify my smoking. I quietly entered the room and discovered my angel sleeping on top of the bedding. She had the inn's terrycloth robe on and her hair wrapped up in a towel. It looked like she fell asleep while watching the television, so I shut it off on my way to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth three times guaranteed me that any traces of smoking had vanished, and I stripped out of my clothes. I donned the other terrycloth robe and joined my love on the bed. Even on top of the bedding, I could feel some dampness from the wet spot our union had created. I checked the clock on the bedside table and figured it might be worth calling down for a change of sheets. Chances were that housekeeping was still at the inn and, even if a desk clerk brought up the sheets, I doubt they would double-check who the room was registered to. After making my call, I retrieved a five-note from my wallet, and waited by the door. I did not want my sleeping beauty to be disturbed, so I opened the door when I detected movement outside of it. After I apologized to the frightened housekeeper, I exchanged the sheets she had for me with the tip and told her, "Feliz Navidad." She thanked me and said, "Merry Christmas." "Trying to get another woman in the room, I see," said Traci. I turned to her and said, "Sorry, about that. I tried not to disturb you but, since you're awake, you want me to change the sheets so we can get under the covers, instead of having to sleep on top of the bed?" Traci blushed slightly at the reason why she had not crawled in bed. "I didn't know making love could be so messy." "Unlike during oral sex, I am unable to drink all of your sweet nectar this way," which caused her to blush to darken. "Also, we were sweating up a storm. You might want to replenish any lost fluids." "You might be right. I am rather thirsty." Traci got out of the bed, and I handed her one of the diet sodas. She finished it and had started on a second one by the time I had completed changing the sheets. She came up to me carrying an unopened soda, and I thanked her with a soft kiss on the lips. "You hungry?" I asked her. "Not really. I stuffed myself pretty good at Christmas dinner. If I had known what we were going to be doing after dinner, I would have eaten less." "Why?" "How many cigarettes did you smoke?" "Five, and why would you have eaten less if you knew about tonight?" Traci tried to evade my question one more time before she finally admitted, "Because during the second time we were making love, I almost farted." I found her embarrassment amusing. I had no problems breaking wind in front of her -- something that she had complained on a few occasions that I should refrain from, at least when, in her words, something must have crawled up my ass and died. I always thought we had a great relationship, but I knew it would really only be complete when she felt comfortable enough to fart in front of me. We got under the fresh sheets and cuddled with each other. Even with my promise to make sure that the night be special, the opportunity to tease her a little was just too much. I mimicked Traci's voice and started to moan, "Oh, Chad, oh yes, oh yes, ohh, phffffft -- oops, pardon me -- ooohhhh, yeah." Maybe it was because I had my arms around her, but I only got a light tap on the shoulder for that. She giggled and decided turnabout was fair play. "Yeah, Traci, you feel soo good. Yeah -- oh, wait. Pull my finger," she said in a deep voice. We chuckled for a little bit and, after we finished, I looked Traci deep in the eyes and said, "I love you." "I love you, too." It only took a few minutes for Traci to drift off to sleep, and I soon followed her. ------- I awoke to discover Traci was not in bed. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was just past three in the morning. I heard the toilet flush, so I got out of bed. I walked over to the bathroom, and I startled Traci when she opened the bathroom door. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick! You scared me," my girlfriend said. I smiled at her and took her into my arms. She had the terrycloth robe on, but had not bothered tying it shut. I began kissing her softly, allowing my hands to lightly caress her exposed flesh. I backed her up against the wall and began to work my kisses down her body; I got a moan from her when I engulfed her left nipple in my mouth. After the right nipple had the same treatment, I was starting to work myself lower when Traci grabbed my shoulders and said, "Chad, please don't." I stopped my tongue right above her bellybutton and looked up at her. She saw my questioning look in what little light there was in the room. She embarrassingly explained, "I just peed." I had no reservations about eating my girlfriend's pussy at any time, even if she had just urinated; however, if it made her uncomfortable, then I just would have to use an alternative method. I had brought some lube with me, just in case it was needed, but I did not want to break the moment by fetching it. Instead, I moistened my index and middle finger with my mouth and, once they were well-lubricated, I brought them to Traci's sex. I was slightly surprised with how wet Traci was already. I guess the foreplay and anticipation of what might happen had caused her juices to flow quite readily. Still, since my fingers were there, I decided a little bit more juice would not hurt matters, and I began to finger-fuck her. While keeping my fingers busy in her pussy, I stood up so I could make out with her. I decided to see if my precum and her wetness were enough for us to make love without any additional lubrication to my cock so, when I removed my fingers from her pussy, I moved forward and guided my manhood to her opening. Since she was shorter than me, I had to bend my knees slightly to penetrate her. My worries about my dick not being lubricated were unfounded, since she had more than enough juices for easy entry of my cock. Once I had fully mounted her, I moved my hands around to cup her tight ass. As I began to lift her, she got the idea of what I wanted to do and wrapped her legs around my back. The nice thing about that position was that we could kiss while we were copulating. I was a tad rougher with my speed and force of my thrusts, but I kept my ears open for any signs that I was hurting her. I could tell that she was getting close to orgasm, but the position we were in was not the best for stimulating either her clitoris or her G spot. Having memorized the layout of the room when I first entered, I did not even need the dim light to navigate our way to the table. Once we reached the table, I guided her so she was lying flat on her back, and I began my thrusting again. Once I got into a slow rhythm with my thrusts, I took Traci's hand and guided it down to our union. She caught on rather quickly, this time, and began to stimulate her clit. I kept my left hand firmly planted on the table, supporting my weight, while I moved my right hand over to fondle her left breast. My manipulation of her tit started off gentle but, as her moans grew louder, I started to squeeze harder. She started rubbing her clit harder as she approached her climax and, when she did come, I leaned down and covered her mouth with mine, muffling her cries of ecstasy. The way her inner walls clamped down on my cock was too much, and it only took me a few more pumps to let my seed flow, what little there was left of it. She pulled me down so that my weight was pressed down upon her, and we lay there spent for a few minutes. As I began to soften, I shifted my pelvis and withdrew my tired member from her. Traci reached down and gathered our combined juices on her fingertips. When she finished licking her treasure off her fingers, she gave me a 'cat that just ate the cannery' grin. I pulled myself up off her and helped her to her feet. When she headed to the bathroom, I started to follow her until she saw what I was doing, then she dashed the rest of the way, locking the door behind her. "Fine, gives me a chance to have a cigarette," I said through the closed bathroom door. When I did not hear the door being unlocked, I went over to fetch my discarded robe, cigarette case, and lighter. I had almost reached the door when I heard the bathroom door open. I turned around and saw Traci standing in the doorway. "Give me five minutes, and I'll join you." I nodded but, when I started to move towards the bathroom, she let out a giggle and closed the door. I did not bother checking to see if she locked it or not. Instead, I donned my jeans and put on another of the tee shirts I had brought with me. I had ended up packing four tee shirts for my one night at the hotel, but had neglected packing any sweaters. There was a slight chill in the air, as one would expect at three thirty in the morning, so I threw on the terrycloth robe over my ensemble. I also decided that a pair of socks was warranted, so I put them on before slipping my feet into my sandals. When Traci came out of the bathroom, she was wearing jeans and a sweater. At least her mom and sister had some foresight when they packed her bag. It only took a minute for her to gather her shoes and put them on. When we stepped outside, I lit my cigarette. I figured that we could walk around the inn's rose garden, so I took her left hand in my right and began walking towards it. After a few steps, Traci let go of my hand and wanted to switch sides with me. "Chivalry states that I should be walking along the outside while you should be walking closest to the building," I pointed out to her. "Yeah, but I doubt when they came up with that silly rule they had to deal with dumb boyfriends who smoke with their poor girlfriends being downwind of them." I shifted my cigarette to my right hand and, instead of holding her hand, I ended up wrapping my left arm around her. "You know how that rule came up, the gentleman walking on the outside of the lady?" Traci shook her head, so I continued, "You see, back in the old days, before indoor plumbing, people used to use chamber pots. Well, it was not uncommon for the pots to be emptied by simply tossing the contents into the street. So, if a pot of urine and feces was tossed from the second story of a building, chances were it would hit the person on the outside and the person walking on the inside would escape unscathed." "Yuck! You sure know how to woo a girl with romantic stories." I turned and kissed her temple. It was a clear night, but the lights from the city had made stargazing rather difficult. Only the brightest of starts were visible. "One of these days, I think all of us should go camping," I said, voicing my thought aloud. She chortled and said, "Yeah, right, that'll happen, taking my mom, sister, and friends out in the middle of nowhere where my boyfriend could ravish them." She then grew somber and said, "I guess I have to share you now." I frowned at her observation and guided her over to a bench. Once we had sat down, I turned to her and made sure she had my undivided attention. "Traci, I know we have joked around about you sharing me with your sister and friends, but you need to understand that if you don't want that to happen, it won't." "I know, but the way you say that, makes me think that you want to have sex with them." I let out a deep sigh and replied, "I know that we have discussed my helping Lori with her sexuality. It was my fear that she might seek out somebody who might not have her best interest at heart, which led me to voice my concern about it. If for one second, I thought that it might destroy what we have together, I would have never said anything." "I know about Lori, but what about others? You keep on talking about Fran..." I was surprised that Traci had brought up the name that I swore I was not going to use during our time at the inn, but I cut her off as soon as she said it. "Why do you think I flirt with Fran?" "Because it pisses me off!" I smiled at her and, because I had just finished smoking a cigarette, I kissed her on the forehead instead of the mouth. "Yeah, that's true," I admitted. "It is kinda fun to tease you, but the main reason why is because she lacks self-confidence." Traci scoffed slightly, so I went on, "You see, Fran is tall..." "No shit, Sherlock!" I gave her a smile. She rolled her eyes but then nodded that I should continue. "Fran is tall; in fact, she is the tallest girl in my class. I found out from Chuck that she has always been tall for her age, even in elementary school. Think what that must have been like for her. Always being teased, feeling awkward because you were taller than kids your own age, being mistaken for somebody years older than what you were, and so on. Fran has a sexy body," Traci snorted when I said that, "but what does she do? She hides it by wearing baggy clothing. Chuck is the only real guy friend she has. I mean, she will chat sometimes with some of the guys that are on the water polo team with her, but she doesn't really hang out with them. How many gal friends does Fran have? Maybe less than half a dozen, and none of them close to her, like you are with your friends." Traci thought for a moment about what I said. She then said, "So, the reason why you flirt with her is to build her self-esteem?" "No, I think you were right the first time. It's to piss you off." Traci gave me a light hit on thigh for that remark. "You need to understand, Fran is the second-to-last person that I could ever see myself having sex with." "Why, didn't you just get done saying how sexy she was?" "Yeah but, for some strange reason, you have it in that twisted little mind of yours that I would leave you for Fran. I don't ever think you would get to the point where you would let me have sex with her." "I don't know yet if I can let you have sex with anybody." "Then I won't." I then took her hand and put it on my crotch. "This belongs to you now. You have complete control over it, and it does not go anyplace without your permission." That brought a giggle from her and, when I let go of her hand, she kept hers where it was. She began to idly trace her fingertips around the outline of my member. I realized what a mistake it was to have done that when she asked me a question, and I had to have her repeat herself, since I found what she was doing with her hand somewhat distracting. "You said if Fran is the second-to-last person, who is the last person you could see yourself having sex with." Any traces of an erection quickly faded when I said, "Mrs. Goodrich." Traci's hand stopped when I said that name. I went on, "You see, I think you could get over me having sex with Fran, but I doubt Rose could ever forgive me for having sex with her mom. Then again, to have sex, I would require a hard-on, and I doubt there is anything that cunt has that would make me erect." The mood was soured by the mention of Rose's mom, as it seemed to always be the case when Mrs. Goodrich was mentioned. I decided to use the moment of silence to fish out another cigarette and turned my body to face away from Traci as I lit up. I then leaned back against the bench and held my arm out so that Traci could snuggle up to me. She hesitated for a second, but I guess her desire to be held offset her repugnance at my cigarette. "Actually, this whole conversation might be moot," I said. Traci pulled back and shook her head slightly. She turned to face me and asked, "What?" "Traci, me having sex with other people, all of it might be irrelevant. I've had sex with multiple partners in the past, sometimes even group sex, and there was no baggage involved. All of that was before I made love, and I don't know if I can have sex any more without emotional attachment." Traci became silent for a few minutes, in which time I was able to finish my cigarette. I did not bother lighting up another one. Instead, I focused my attention to Traci, trying to figure out what she was thinking. I knew it was a lost cause, trying to guess what was going on in my girlfriend's mind. "Chad, I can't make up my mind if that is romantic or just plain sad. One of these days, I wish you would tell me more about your past." That will never happen, if I could help it, I thought to myself. The only thing that would accomplish would be pain for the girl who was sitting next to me. "My love, my past does not matter. My life began when I first laid eyes on you." Traci smiled softly at my comment, though I wasn't exactly lying. Chad Johnson was born the day before my fateful encounter with Traci, when I had read the legend that gave details about my new identify. Being around Traci had opened up new emotions and feelings and, in a way, I was a different person than what I was before. Traci took my not lighting up as a sign that I wanted to head back, so when I started to fish for my cigarette case, she gave me a look. I could read it as clear as day: 'Don't push your luck, buster'. I smiled and gave up the task that I had set upon. When we got to the room, we both got undressed, and Traci saw me flinch when I peeled off my pants. "What's wrong?" my concerned girlfriend asked. "Well, it seems that because of a certain someone, whom I won't name, would not let their boyfriend into the bathroom recently, their boyfriend ended up having to put away his equipment without cleaning it first." It took a second for Traci to get what I was saying. She came over to me and dropped to her knees. "It sounds like that certain someone, whom you won't name, should take care of his equipment." Traci began to slowly lick my hardening cock, making sure to remove the dried remains of our previous union. When she had made sure she had my member nice and clean, she stood up and added with a grin, "After all, I own that now, don't I?" I returned the smile and stated, "Besides wanting to use a wet wash towel, I had also wanted to take a piss, something that is rather HARD with my current preDICament." "Want me to give you a HAND?" Traci asked, waving her hand in the air with the universal motion signaling 'hand job'. "Nah, I got it. Just don't expect me to COME back too soon," I replied as I trotted off to the bathroom, with a part of me bobbing up and down on the way. It only took a few painful squeezes of my cockhead until I was soft enough to drain my bladder. I also took care of brushing my teeth while I was in there, as well. When I returned to the room, Traci had already climbed in bed. She saw my softening member and gave a little pout, "You broke my new toy." Grinning, I said to her, "I am sure it will RISE to the occasion tomorrow. Three or four more times, at least." Traci glanced at the clock and said, "Yikes, you mean today, don't ya? It's almost four in the morning. We'd better get some sleep. I don't know about you, but I am so tired." I nodded, and climbed in bed. After spooning next to her, I was out almost instantly. ------- I woke up six hours later with Traci playing with my cock. HER cock, I corrected myself, since I had relinquished control of my member to her. "Morning, love," I said to Traci. "Morning, or at least, what's left of it. I've been waiting for you to wake up for the past hour, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Well, at least, into my left hand." I smiled at her pun and leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips. When I broke the kiss, I saw she had a trace of excitement in her eyes. She said, "While I've been up, I've been thinking." Oh-oh, I thought to myself. The way that she said it along with the look she had on her face, I wondered if I could be prepared for what she had on her mind. Part of me did not care at all, at least, the part that she was currently stroking. "What have you been thinking, pet?" "I was thinking that since you told me that I control your cock, if I were to ask you to fuck me, then you would have to." I frowned and asked, "Are you sure you want us to do that? I would be perfectly happy just making love to you." "I know, but I want to try it out, you know, having sex just for sex's sake. Not emotional connection, just pure fucking." "And you think you can handle it. I wasn't kidding when we were in the bathtub. I don't want you walking funny because of me." "No, I swear, Chad. Besides the first time, it hasn't hurt at all. Well, okay, maybe a tad discomfort for the first fifteen seconds or so, but it goes away real quick. And, last time, it felt really good when you were going faster and harder." As she said that last part, she clenched her fist firmly around my cock and stroked it strongly. She let out a small cry of protest when I rolled, somewhat awkwardly, and got out of bed. I went to my bag and took out a bottle of lube I had brought with me. Traci gave me a puzzled look, so I answered her unasked question as I applied it liberally onto my cock. "Since I'm going to fuck you, I'm not going to waste my time with foreplay. I'm just going to plow my cock non-stop in your tight pussy. Since I don't want to rub myself raw, I am going to need to be slick to do it." I saw her shudder slightly and a sexual flush creep across her chest at my words. "Move towards the edge of the bed," I instructed her. Once she got to where I wanted her, her back on the bed with her legs draping towards the floor, I picked up both legs and brought them to my chest. As I lined up my cockhead to her tight entrance, I discovered that my precautions about being well-lubricated were unjustified. She was soaking wet. I wondered how much of her thinking about her fucking me this morning led her to her current condition. Slowly, I pressed my cock into her opening, until her warm moist sheath enveloped my cockhead. I did ram my cock into her with one stroke, allbeit at a lot slower pace than what she wanted. She actually begged me to plunge into her harder, but since I was holding her legs, she was unable to assist in the effort. She did try to thrust her hips forward to speed me along, but I maintained an almost snail-like pace until I bottomed out in her. Once I had fully penetrated my girlfriend, I let go of her legs. "Lock your ankles around my neck," I instructed her. Once she did as she was told, I began to fuck Traci. I did start slow so that she could get used to the position but, once she did, I built up a head of steam. My right hand was still rather lubricated from the jell I had used, so I reached down and started to rub my thumb right above the hood that protected her delicate clit. Another clue to how worked up Traci must have gotten herself was that it only took five minutes of me fucking her until she reached her first orgasm of the morning. She begged me not to stop as she rode through it, and the sound of my balls slapping against her wet, bare sex echoed through the room along with her cries of passion. Since the position we were in stimulated the upper wall of her vagina, I knew I had a good chance of stimulating her Grafenberg spot. During her second climax -- only ten minutes after the first -- I felt the extra wetness of her ejaculation, signaling that she had a vaginal orgasm instead of her usual clitoral one. I was working her towards her third (and my first) of the morning when I stopped dead in my tracks. "Chad, please, don't stop," Traci begged. I had spotted some blood mixed in with the fluid covering my cock but, as raw as I felt, I knew the source was not from me. I had to check before I continued, "Are you sure you're okay?" "Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me and fuck me now!" she practically screamed, she was so close to another orgasm. I was surprised I had not lost my erection, since I was so caught off-guard at the sight of blood and fearful I was hurting my precious woman. Not for the first time in my life, I realized that my cock -- no, Traci's cock -- had a mind of its own, and I started up my thrusting again. I knew my little interruption had disturbed Traci's impending climax, so I tried to assist her along. Since my right hand still had some lubricant on it, I snaked it around to her puckered anus. It was somewhat difficult, but I was able to rub a slick finger along her asshole. She moaned her appreciation so, right when she was on the edge, I inserted it just an inch into her, and that pushed her over. It was while she was coming down the crest of her third crescendo that I finally shot my cum (what little there was) into her. She undid her ankles and brought her legs down, and I collapsed on top of my girlfriend. We lay there, sweating up a storm, trying to recover our breaths from our furious session. Once we recovered, I pulled my shrinking member out from her tight passage and went over to get the last remaining soda. "Oh my god, is that why you stopped?" Traci asked in alarm. She had spotted the blood on my penis and had mistakenly thought it was from me. "Yeah, but it's not mine. Lie down for a second," I instructed her. I kneeled between her legs and examined her vagina with a critical eye. After studying it for a minute, I stood up and made my diagnosis. "It looks like I tore a little bit more of your hymen." Traci said, "But it didn't hurt." I shrugged. "It could have been a couple of things. The new position, not to mention the force I was using, caused a little bit more tearing. Sometimes years go by from when a woman first starts having sex and when they tear more of their hymen." Traci had sat up, and was trying to look down to see what I had spotted. When I heard her stomach rumble, I suggested, "Maybe we should go down and get a bite to eat at the restaurant before Marge picks us up. "Okay, let me go use the bathroom first," she said as she got to her feet. "Why, you already peed on me," I told her back with a grin on my face. She spun around and protested, "I did not... ," at which point she spotted my face and said, "You are such a bastard." She spun around and marched to the bathroom. I had spotted the smile on her face before she spun, so knew that she thought it was funny, as well. The first time I had found her G spot was while we were engaged in oral sex, and I had brought her her first vaginal orgasm. She had thought her ejaculation was pee and had been so aghast, it took me close to an hour to convince her otherwise. Since then, I would use that misunderstanding as a source to tease her. She had gotten over her embarrassment and now could laugh at it as I did. ------- Chapter 17 When we returned from the inn, Pollyanna and Michelle were at the house, waiting for us. We exchanged our gifts, and I thought I would take a guess before unwrapping my presents. "'Buffy the Vampire Slayer, ' season five, and a CD," I said when Michelle handed me my gift. "You're half right," a grinning Michelle said, and I found out it was Season 6 of the show and that the CD was of a musical episode that they had done from that season. "Season five and a CD," I said, as I began to unwrap Pollyanna's present. The Spice Girls CD that I received brought a fit of giggles from the girls. "What if I don't like 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'?" The look of disbelief I received was similar to the one I had gotten when I told them I had never seen the show a few months prior. Therefore, I just thanked the two girls for my gifts, and they thanked me for theirs. Since their parents had insisted on paying for their plane tickets, I ended up buying them some clothes I had noticed them eyeing on our last escapade at the mall. I also included a gift certificate to a local day spa for each of them. To her credit, Traci waited until after the gift exchange before grabbing her friends and sister, then dragging them back to her room. A bemused Marge followed when Traci invited her, as well. With the knowledge of how much my girlfriend liked to talk, I thought it would be the longest that Traci had been in her room. I could not wait to tell her where I had hid my gifts. The girls returned partway through the third episode of season one. I did try to pay attention to what they said to me, but the show distracted me. They gave up on me and ended up watching it, as well. I was barely aware of when Michelle and Pollyanna left and, throughout supper, I dominated the conversation, talking about what I had just watched. I got a few chuckles when I speculated that Xander and Willow were destined to be together. It was because of that experience that they began to bring my food to the living room instead of forcing me to the table. After a couple of days of me staying up watching Buffy, Traci began to hint that she was ready to explore what we had started on Christmas. She was kind enough to wait until I had finished watching the episode to broach the subject. "My love, I have been up seventy-nine hours, and I am afraid that I won't be of much use. I promise you that as soon as I'm done watching this and I have slept a little, we can make love nonstop." I spotted Rose coming downstairs and added, "In the meantime, maybe Rose could take care of you with one of her birthday gifts." Traci stared at me for a second before getting up and grabbing a confused Rose by the hand. Traci dragged her back from where she had just come from. Torn between seeing if my girlfriend would follow-through with what I had suggested or watching Buffy, I did what was most logical. I resumed watching. It was dark out when I had finished watching all seven seasons. It was during season five that I gave Lori money to buy the last season for me. She must have figured that it was better for me to be finished watching the series instead of having to deal with me bugging her when I was done with season six. I thought about what I had just finished watching. I at least understood some of the phrases Rose would say to me, her favorite being 'five-by-five'. Another theme I picked up was that it was better to be honest instead of trying to hide something, because it was always worse when they found out about the deception. It was when I started to consider telling Traci the truth about me that I realized that I was operating on no sleep, and any decision I made would reflect that. As I walked to the master bedroom, I began to strip off my clothes. The exhaustion hit me hard enough that I stood in the bedroom, debating on crawling into bed or at least taking a quick shower. Hygiene won out, and I took the shower. I crawled into bed and spooned my girlfriend. I must have been really out of it, because it took me a few minutes to realize that there were a few things wrong. One, Traci was wearing pajamas, something she hardly did unless she was on her period, which I knew she wasn't due for just yet. The second thing was that her breasts felt a full cup size bigger. In addition, when had Traci's hair gotten so long? It was when I realized that I was not holding Traci that I became wide-awake. I scrambled over to the bedside table and hastily turned on the light. There, lying next to me, was Lori. She had a grin on her face, obviously enjoying the deception that had just occurred. "Traci and I had a bet to see if you would be too tired to notice who you were sleeping with. I guess she won." She gave a little fake pout, which I rolled my eyes at, then started to get out of bed. "Where are you going?" I asked her. "To get Traci. She said I could only stay in the bed if you didn't notice." "Well, we could pretend that I didn't notice." "That wouldn't be fair," she sighed. And, with that, she left the bedroom. Traci must have been in her room because the two girls returned shortly. Traci dragged Lori into the room with her. She then let go of her sister's arm, went over to the dresser, retrieved a pair of sweatpants from there, and tossed them at me. "Knowing Chad, he's naked under there. You can sleep with us tonight, but not with him naked." Lori gave me a nervous look, so I smiled at her and shrugged. To save some embarrassment on her part, I donned the sweatpants underneath the blankets. I moved to the center of the bed; Traci crawled in on my right side and Lori on my left. I gave both girls kisses on the temple before turning and spooning my girlfriend. I thought that she would have preferred a more meaningful kiss, but I had been so tired that I had forgotten to brush my teeth. I doubt even everlasting love could withstand five days of dental hygiene neglect. Traci was wearing a sleeping tee shirt; my guess was she was not comfortable enough yet to be prancing around her sister naked. I cupped the breasts that I was most familiar with, gently squeezing them. Traci started to rub her panty-clad bottom against my groin, when I felt Lori press up against my back. I feel asleep rather shortly after that. ------- When I awoke, I had no idea what time it was. My internal clock was off because of my marathon viewing of Buffy. My first instinct was that it was still night, since the room was completely black. I ruled that out when I heard a bird chirping. Traci and Lori must have figured that I needed my sleep and had made sure that the blackout curtains were drawn. There were no signs of my bedmates, so I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. On the way to the bathroom, I stopped off at my desk and fished out a Camel from the drawer. I was unsure if it was the weekend, but I figured that I would rather play it safe than sorry. I smoked the entire cigarette before brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out. There would be hell to pay if it turned out it was not the weekend, so I left the fan on in the bathroom to vent out any traces of my cigarette. After I put on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, I headed out to the living room. "Look whose back among the living." Rose greeted me. She was sitting on the sofa with Lori and Traci. It appeared I had interrupted a conversation between Traci and Rose. I gave a weak smile, "What do ya expect when y'all give me DVDs as presents? Just to put them on the shelf or to watch them?" Traci said, "A normal person would not watch them all at once." Traci stood up as I walked over to her, so I wrapped my arms around her hips. I gave her a gentle kiss. After I broke it, I looked into her eyes and asked, "And when did I become a normal person?" We resumed our kiss, only to be interrupted by a pillow thrown by Lori. Traci and I moved to the sofa so that we were no longer blocking the view of the plasma. I was delighted when I heard that it was Saturday -- until Traci pointed out to me that it was the start of the New Year. "You said you would quit smoking as part of your New Year's resolution." "Okay. How about a few addendums? I can smoke my remaining cigarettes, when I am overseas, and after sex." "No," was the reply from my stubborn girlfriend. "Okay," and I started to fish for my cigarette case from my pants when she stopped me. "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded. I glanced at the living room clock and said, "I gave up smoking for thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes. I'm going to start up again. That is, unless you want to consider the addendums I mentioned." I received one of Traci's patented pouts while she considered it. When I opened my cigarette case to retrieve a Camel, she stopped me. "Fine, but only when you are overseas and after sex. And, just so you know, you won't be getting any more sex from me." "I'm cool with that. Lori, are you busy? I want to have a cigarette and..." A pillow swung by my girlfriend interrupted my request to Lori. I grabbed my girlfriend and began to tickle her. Rose got up and assisted me, as well. After a minute of this, Lori announced she was going to her room to watch the television up there since it was impossible to watch it in the living room. We stopped our assault on Traci and promised to be quiet for Lori. I asked Traci, "Why didn't you wake me up at midnight for New Year's?" Traci let out a groan. "We tried a dozen times to wake you up, but you were dead to the world!" "She just didn't want you to get up because then you would have insisted on kissing everybody," Rose supplied. "You're right, I would have. I guess I can always do that now." I got up and went over to Rose. I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. I then went over to Lori and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. I looked around and asked, "Where's Marge?" "Mom had to work a double last night. It gets very busy at the hospital during New Year's, but she should be home soon," Traci answered. I settled back down on the coach and Traci scooted over to lie up against me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and resumed watching the show on the plasma. While we were watching it, I began to run my left thumb along the bottom curve of her right breast. Every so often, I would drag my thumb across her nipple before returning to the base. Traci responded by starting to rub her pert ass into my groin. Lori looked over and laughed at our antics. "You know, sis, he's just doing that so he can have a cigarette." In reply, I stuck my tongue out at Lori and called her a spoilsport. She flashed me a smile before returning her gaze to the plasma. It was during the next commercial break that Traci got up, pulling me with her. Traci asked, "Think we can be done before the show starts back up?" I responded by grabbing my girlfriend and slinging her over my shoulder. I told the other two girls, "We'll be back in a couple of minutes. Traci and I are going to my room and fuck like rabbits. If anybody wants to come and watch, feel... Ouch!" Since I had Traci slung over my shoulder, she was able to slap me in the ass quite hard. That brought some giggles as I carried my girlfriend out of the living room and to the bedroom. When I got in the bedroom, I tossed her into the center of the bed and began to undress. Traci removed her clothes, too, all the while watching me. When we were both nude, I climbed on the bed to join her. Since I was on a time restraint (and I really wanted a cigarette) I decided to go for speed, not accuracy. After a few brief kisses, I parted her legs and lowered my head to Traci's dripping sex. I gave her a couple slow licks along the outer edges of her pussy, then decided that I was in the proper position for renegotiation. "One cigarette per climax." "What?" asked my confused girlfriend. She had tossed her head to the side and closed her eyes, but she reopened them at my out-of-place statement and looked down at me. I clarified for her, "For every time that you or I cum, I want a cigarette afterwards." "You said after sex. Blowjobs or eating me out does not count as sex," Traci replied. "A former President of the United States might not count oral sex as sex, but for me, if an orgasm is involved, it's sex." I resumed what I had been doing before our colloquy, only to stop and ask again about my terms. A frustrated Traci exclaimed, "Sex is when you put your dick up my cunt!" "Fine, I'll dip my wick a couple of strokes, and then I'll pull out and go have my cigarette." As I held my conversation with my beloved, I was slowly working two of my fingers in and out of her tight passage. I used my thumb on her clitoris as a further bargaining chip. She finally caved into my demands. "You win, you pussy tease. One cigarette for every time you or I climax." I knew I would be pressing my luck with her if I added 'or Fran' to our compromise, so I did what any good boyfriend would do: I began cunnilingus to my girlfriend. I later left the bedroom to go smoke the four cigarettes I had earned; actually, three I had earned and the one that Traci and I had earned together. When I was passing through the living room to the backyard, Marge came in wearing her nurse's uniform. "Happy New Year," I announced to Marge as I went over to the foyer to greet her. Wrapping my arms around her, I gave her a kiss on the lips. I was not too surprised when I felt her tongue dart into my mouth, but when it grew passionate, I was taken slightly aback. When we broke the kiss, the look on her face was the oddest that I had seen. It was a mix of passion, fear, longing, horror, and confusion. She blushed and practically ran from the foyer up the stairs. Traci was just coming in to the living room from the master bedroom hallway and had not seen the kiss, but Lori had. Seeing her mother flee past her, then seeing Lori chase after her, caused the youngest Caspar to turn to follow them upstairs. "What's wrong with mom?" Traci asked me as she moved towards the stairs. Seeing my puzzled expression, she just continued upstairs after her family. It took me a few seconds to realize what had upset Marge. But then I caught myself licking my lips. A familiar flavor was still there. Since I had planned to smoke my cigarettes, I had not brushed my teeth after sex. So, when Marge had kissed me, she had found the taste of her daughter on my lips. ------- It was just after I had started smoking my second cigarette that I had earned from Traci when Rose came out to join me. She sat down at the table that I was at and gave me a soft smile. Rose said, "I had the same thing happen to me." "Irene frenched you?" Rose shook her head and let out a snort. She replied, "Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if she did. I finally worked up the nerve and asked if she was Wiccan. It turns out that she is; however, when I asked her if it was possible to attend one of their gatherings, she told me she would love for me to go, but it would be best if I waited until I was eighteen. When I pressed further, she hinted that there was more than just dancing naked under the new moon that took place at their..." Rose paused, trying to remember the term, so I helped her. "Esbat." "Yeah, that's it. What I was trying to tell you was that, after the Winter Formal, Pollyanna's dad picked us up. On the way back to their home, he said, 'It smells like you two had a good time at the dance.' I don't know if it was a Freudian slip or if he had intentionally said it, but that's when we noticed that in the small confines of the car, all of us could smell Pollyanna's scent from the juices I still had on my face." Rose was blushing from the retelling of the tale. I decided to do a little light teasing and asked, "And how did Pollyanna get her juices on your face at the dance?" "That is between me and Polly." I nodded and smiled at her use of her girlfriends' nickname. Pollyanna had always be insistent that we use her full name, so when Traci heard Rose call her girlfriend 'Polly' without it provoking anything from Pollyanna, Traci wanted to know why. Pollyanna had proudly proclaimed, "Only my parents or lovers can call me Polly." "Oh, you just reminded me. Did you go on a 'date' last night?" Rose grinned and said, "And this morning, as well. Traci was surprised when John Kawano showed up last night to pick me up, but she was beyond words when he came by today, too. She recovered by the time I got back, and was giving me the third degree until you came into the living room. You think I should tell Traci where I have been going?" I thought about it for a second, but then said, "Nah. It's more fun to see her this way. She is so cute when she is dying of curiosity." Rose's grin grew larger and nodded. "We ate buckwheat noodles after the service last night. I also got to hit their bell a few times." Toshikoshi soba, buckwheat noodles, was eaten on New Year's Eve in Japan. The bell-ringing she was referring to was the tolling of the temple's bell 108 times, because man has 108 sins and, by hearing the bells toll that number of times, he can be relieved of all of them. "You also should eat ozoni today," I added. "I made the rice cake soup. We will have it this evening with the rest of the New Year's dishes." I blinked in surprise and asked disbelievingly, "You made osechi-ryori?" "Yup," Rose said proudly, "why do you think Pollyanna and Michelle aren't here for lunch? They will be joining us this evening for Japanese New Year's food." Rose must have been extremely busy while I was sleeping. The osechi dishes were usually prepared by New Year's Eve so that people could enjoy them over the following three days. "And I am sitting out here talking with you, instead of inside eating, because... ?" "Baka, isn't your 'eating' what lead you to your current predicament?" I let out a theatrical moan at her pun. I told myself that my puns were far better than that, but I knew it was not true. I lit up my third cigarette (I was not counting the one that I had when I first woke up since that was before I knew it was the New Year) when Rose said, "By the way, I recorded the Kohaku uta gassen. I thought you might want to see it." Rose was correct; I had wanted to see the Red and White Song Festival. I looked at Rose appraisingly for a moment and then announced, "That is it. Forget Traci, I am going to marry you." Rose giggled and said, "Oh no, that's not my role. I'm the maid. It's my duty to take care of my master." "I thought that was Lori's job, taking care of me," I pointed out. Rose shook her head. "No, Lori's job is taking care of her master's sexual needs -- though, if I am not mistaken, Traci hasn't given you permission, yet." She paused, giving me a questioning look. When I nodded in agreement, she continued, "My job is to take care of your domestic needs." I smiled at my friend/maid. When I finished my cigarette, we headed back inside the house. I was going to watch the Kohaku uta gassen when something on the news caught my eye. It seems that a major disaster had occurred while I was in the middle of my 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' marathon. Rose and I were on the couch watching news coverage of the disaster when Lori and Traci came downstairs. More than an hour had elapsed since my little faux pas in the foyer. My girlfriend pulled me up from the couch and pulled me to our bedroom. When the door closed, she said, "You won't believe what Mom told Lori and me." "I don't want to hear it," I said to a shocked Traci. "But..." "What your mom told you and your sister must have been private. I don't think she would like it if you told me what was said." "But Chad, I was trying to tell you that Mom said I could tell you." I arched my eyebrow at that, so she added, "I asked her if I could tell you, and she said that I might as well. 'I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew'." "Still, maybe I should let her tell me." "Oh no, I think she would be too embarrassed to. Maybe that's why she told me it was okay to tell you about it." I smiled to myself. It was more likely that Marge knew her daughter would explode if Traci did not have somebody to tell what had transpired up in Marge's room. I thought that Marge figured that, if Traci told me, then she would be less likely to blab their conversation to her friends. I sat down on the edge of the bed; Traci joined me. "When Lori and I went to Mom's room, we found her in there, crying. After she stopped, she told me that she was sorry for French-kissing you. She also apologized for French-kissing me on Christmas. She said that, for the past few months, her inhabitations have been leaving her. I wonder whose influence she might have been under?" I just shrugged when Traci gave me a suspicious look. She continued Marge's tale, "Anyway, Mom said that seeing the way you and I have been acting made her feel lonely. It also made her horny, as well." Traci stopped to grin at that concept, then went on. "She said that when she kissed you when she came home, she could taste me on your lips! That opened up a floodgate of memories, and she had gone up to her room to cry." "Mom then had Lori and I sit on her bed, and she told us about her past. Of course, we knew some of it, but she wanted to tell us the whole story. You see, when Mom was sixteen, Grandpa, Grandma, and her were in a car accident. Mom was hurt really bad, but Grandpa and Grandma were killed. Aunt Mel was away at college, but she left school and came home to take care of Mom." "Mom had been heartbroken when Aunt Mel had left for college; they had been really close back when they were growing up. Anyhow, Mom isn't sure if it was because of the loneliness of losing their parents or if it was because Aunt Mel and she just grew closer when Mel had to take care of her, but the two of them became lovers! She said that she even went to the same college that Aunt Mel was enrolled in so that the two of them could go to school together. Even after Mom had met Dad, the two of them continued to have sex with each other. Mom said that Dad knew about it, and that he was cool with it. All three of them even had sex a few times. It was also in college that the three of them experimented with BSDM, but they only did it for a few months." "BDSM: Bondage & Discipline / Domination & Submission / Sadism & Masochism," I said, correcting my girlfriend. I smiled at the look she gave me. She had tried to mimic the same look that I would give her when she interrupted me. I gave a small nod, signaling her to continue. "Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, so, after college, Mom and Dad went to the same medical school, UCLA. Aunt Mel had moved to Phoenix because she had become a flight attendant after college, and the company she worked for had their main hub there. When Mom got pregnant with Lori, she and Dad got married. They had been living a university-owned apartment to save money, but with Mom having to drop out of school, they had rent a place. To help them with the rent, Aunt Mel moved in with them, since the airline she was working for flew out of LAX. Dad was able to do his residency in Los Angeles; that's when I was born. He was a Cardio-Thoracic surgeon, and that required him to do eight years of residency. Anyhow, when Dad was in his sixth year of it -- I was four, then -- Aunt Mel fell in love with a passenger that she had gotten to know. The guy had to fly a lot, and Aunt Mel started to bid her schedule so that she would be on the same flights as him. They got married, and the two of them moved to London when he got promoted in his job." Traci paused her story and double-checked to make sure the bedroom door was closed. Even after that, she lowered her voice, just in case anybody was listening. "Promise you won't say anything to Mom, but I don't think she likes Uncle Ron. She hinted that he is very possessive of Aunt Mel. Aunt Mel had told him about her, Mom, and Dad, and Uncle Ron freaked. He forbade her from seeing Mom or Dad again. Even after Dad died, Uncle Ron had to come with Aunt Mel to attend the funeral. I don't think he even let Aunt Mel out of his sight the whole time they were here. That was the only time I got to meet Aunt Mel, since I don't remember her when she used to live with us." "Anyhow, Mom has only had sex with two people -- Dad and her sister. Now, she has nobody. She said that it still doesn't make what she has been doing right. She also said she should have told Lori and me about her and Aunt Mel a long time ago, but was afraid to. She said Dad and her were going to wait until we were old enough to understand but, after Dad died, she said she didn't want her daughters to think that their only remaining parent was a pervert." "Well, by the time Mom had said that, all three of us were crying, so we hugged her and told her that we didn't think she was a pervert. There were some other things that we talked about, but Mom and Lori told me that I couldn't tell you about them." Traci had been talking non-stop, so I waited for a minute after she finished describing what had happened in Marge's room. I wrapped my arm around her and asked her, "And are you really okay with what your mom told you?" She nodded, and said, "Yeah, I'm fine." "How about Lori? Is she handling it okay?" "Yeah. Actually, she remembers Aunt Mel and said that it explained some things. You see, when Lori was in first grade, she came home from school and found Aunt Mel and Mom naked in bed. She didn't tell anybody at the time and, after a while, she just thought she had imagined it." I nodded, and Traci added, "You know, you're to blame for making me cool with it." I cocked my eyebrow at that. She said, "You know, those stories you showed me. The night that we... you know what I'm talking about." "No, what night are you talking about?" I asked her, knowing full well what she had meant. "The night that you first... you know damn well what I'm talking about!" "Hmm... You mean the first night you had an orgasm? The first night that I ate you out, licked your pussy, carpet munched, performed cunnilingus, gave you head, you gave me head, a blowjob, sucked my cock, swallowed my love rocket, bobbed on my throbbing manhood of desire... ?" "Yes, damn it, that night!" Traci said, cutting me off from coming up with other ways to describe what had happened that night. Redness had started to creep into her cheeks. Any chances of 'earning' more cigarettes were quickly dashed; Traci pushed away from me after we had kissed each other. I had forgotten to brush my teeth, yet again, after I had smoked my cigarettes. Oral hygiene was once again at fault, so I swore to myself that I would make bloody sure to brush my teeth each and every time after sex and smoking! ------- Chapter 18 It was bound to happen sooner or later. I had had hoped for later rather than sooner, but Traci finally found the entrance to the Dungeon. When the Caspars moved in, I think it was my insistence that the study be left alone that caused Traci to focus most of her effort there. I swear she even went through my entire manga collection on the bookshelves, pulling them down just in case one of them was a lever, the type one would see in the movies. Even pulling the bookcases away from the wall did not stop her from going through them again. In the end, I think it was Rose's hesitation to put away the vacuum in the closet under the stairs when Traci was around, that clued her in. To my girlfriend's credit, she did not immediately go down into the basement. Instead, she waited until I arrived home on the first Tuesday of the New Year, then she informed me of her discovery. "Now that I know where it is, can I see it?" she asked me. "Okay, but what you see down there, you must keep to yourself. The only other person who has been down there is Rose, so if you need to talk to somebody about what you see, you can talk to her. You think you can handle that?" "What? You think I always have to tell someone when I know a secret?" I was intelligent enough not to answer that question truthfully. I sidestepped the question and stated, "Also, the only time you can go down there is when I invite you. I want to keep the Dungeon a private and special place, and it loses some of its meaning if people just prance around down there." "How come Rose gets to go down there alone?" "Because she cleans and takes care of the equipment down there. Also, Rose is somebody who, I am almost certain, will never be on the receiving end of the stuff down there." "How can you be sure?" my curious girlfriend inquired. I answered, "Honey, don't you think Rose has been dominated enough in her life? I could see her perhaps dominating somebody, but I don't see, no, I don't WANT to see, her being dominated by anybody again." She shrugged and, with that, we descended the staircase. I still had a great deal of work to do before it was anywhere near being completed. A majority of my supplies I had to get via the internet. I was holding Traci's hand, and I felt her squeeze it tight when she saw a few of the objects that were hanging on the walls. "Relax; lots of these toys are just for show. I would NEVER use them on Lori or any of our friends." "Why are they here then?" asked a shocked Traci. "Two reasons. One, it is the fear that they could be used. Number two, I don't know if Fran might like them." "Well, if you use that bullwhip on Fran, I want to watch." I tried to ignore the glee in my girlfriend's voice. I hoped she was just joking as I had, and that she did not indeed want Fran to be tortured. As I was thinking about her comment, she let out a squeal in surprise. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Is this thing for real?!?" I grinned at her discovery. I, myself, had the same reaction as she did when I stumbled across it on the internet. I knew I had to get it, and did not mind paying the ridiculous price it cost due to the limited availability. "Yeah. That there is a 'Hello Kitty' vibrator." Its official name was the 'Hello Kitty Vibrating Shoulder Massager', but it was discovered that it could be used for other purposes, especially to soothe those hard to reach places. She let out another yelp when she turned it on. "Please be careful with that, it has not been used yet, and I would hate to see it broken before." Traci gingerly put the pink vibrator back where she found it. As she explored a cabinet that had a wide range of flogging devices, I decided to test the weight on the pulleys I had attached to the ceiling. After I had made sure the ropes were securely fastened to the wall, I pulled on the wrist harnesses as hard as I could. They did not give at all; once again, I congratulated myself on a job well done. Traci came over to see what I was doing. "Is that for Lori?" she asked me. "Lori or Fran, I have... Damn!" One should never bring up the name of a girl that your girlfriend was jealous of, especially if said girlfriend happens to be holding a cat of nine tails at the time. If one happens to do so, make sure to be at least out of striking range. "Oh, I'm sorry, Chad. I didn't mean it." However, she sure swung it as if she meant it. I disarmed Traci before I continued, "What I should have said, is that I don't know how far LORI might want to take this. There is lots of stuff down here that I doubt that I will ever use. Just because it is here, does not mean that it's going to be used, but if it is needed, then I don't want to have to stop what I am doing because I don't have it." "Are you so sure that I am going to say yes?" I smiled at her and said, "If you never say yes, then none of it will be used. I just like to be prepared, and I don't want to do anything half-assed." Sheepishly, Traci said, "I did see a couple of toys that might be fun to try out. Why don't we take them to our bedroom, and give them a test run." I shook my head at her request. "I would rather get a different set for that and leave this stuff down here. I know it is silly, but anything that I bring down here, stays down here. Oh, I know. You know how in your P.E. classes, they require you to have gym shoes and outdoor shoes? You don't wear your gym shoes outside, and you don't wear your outdoor shoes in the gym. Same type of principle, I guess." She gave me a funny look, "I don't see what the big deal is." "The items down here are tools. A majority of them are used for pain or discomfort. They lose their value when they are taken out from the dungeon and used for other purposes, say just pleasure alone. I don't know how else to describe it. Oh! How would you feel if I handcuffed you in the bedroom, but the cuffs were the same ones that I had used to suspend your sister from the ceiling with for five hours." She seemed shocked that I would do such a thing, and voiced her concern, "You would never do that!" I shrugged and said, "I don't know yet. Lori might work herself up to that point. I doubt that it will ever get that far, but say that it did. Would you still want to be using something that caused your sister discomfort for so long, no matter that she got sexual excitement from it?" "Okay, I kinda see your point." Good, I thought to myself. I had almost used an analogy regarding a sex toy and Fran, but even without a weapon, Traci was a dangerous girl. I thought it was safer to hold off on mentioning the tall blonde-haired girl's name while we were down in the dungeon. "Looks like you still have a lot of work to do still." "Yeah, I can only order so much via the internet. There is a sex shop in town, but you need to be at least over eighteen. I have been hesitant about asking Marge into helping me. I am pretty sure she trusts me, but some of these items might be a little too much, especially if she thought they were going to be used on her daughter." "Well, you do know somebody will be turning eighteen shortly. I'm not saying yes yet, but if I do, you could always use her." I let a wide grin spread across my face. I had already thought about using Lori to acquire my purchases, but I was glad that Traci had brought up the idea. I was not keen on public embarrassment for Lori, at least where others who knew her might be about. It was highly doubtful that we would run into anybody from high school at the sex shop. I would still stake it out, just to make sure. Traci saw my grin and shook her head, "I'm still not saying yes, but if I do, I think it will be kinda funny that she has to buy her own toys or punishment tools." I pulled my girlfriend into a hug and said, "I love you." I then suggested, "Why don't we go upstairs? We could use some of the toys that I had bought that have not yet crossed the threshold into the dungeon." She grinned and practically dragged me up the stairs. We had to make a quick pit stop in Traci's room, so I could pick up the boxes that I had hidden under her bed. That little maneuver almost blew the mood, since she was angry that, once again, I had used her room to hide something under her nose. "Your room is the safest room in the whole house to hide stuff. You're almost never in here." "Yeah, and you like to rub my face in it. Are you telling me that you don't like sleeping with me?" "My love, one of my most favorite things is waking up with you in my arms. However, it would be nice to wake up with Fran in my arms once in a while." "You're such an asshole. Why can't you say something nice without ruining it? Could you at least try and say something nice to me without adding a dig at the end?" "As you wish." I was lucky that my coded 'I love you' still worked its magic. We then turned to the packages that had started our little tiff. "Did you want to try being restricted, or did you want to play with something like a vibrator?" Traci seemed a little nervous, and said, "I don't think I would really like to be tied up or stuff like that. I don't know why Lori finds that exciting. I wouldn't mind trying a vibrator." "Big or small?" "Small!" she practically yelled, not even allowing a second to lapse between when I asked her the question and when she answered. I opened the box that contained a six-inch vibrator. The plastic toy was shipped with the batteries already installed, so while I would usually put in fresh ones before taking it down to the Dungeon, I figured they should be good enough for what I had planned. After all, the vibrator was going to be used as a source of pleasure, not torment, so I doubted it would be in sustained use. "I just want to be clear from the start. If I am able to make you cum with this, I still get a cigarette, right?" I asked Traci. She rolled her eyes at me in response while she was removing her clothes. Back on New Year's Day, we had agreed that I could not have a cigarette if it was just from me masturbating -- at least, if I did it without her involvement. In her words, 'You would just sit around all day, whacking off like those monkeys in the zoo.' In order for it to garner a cigarette, she would have to be present, conscious, and involved; 'Spanking the monkey while I'm sleeping next to you doesn't count', she added. I decided then not to pursue her obvious fixation on primates. When Traci was nude, she got onto the bed, perhaps only the second time she had been on it since she moved in with me. It was a twin bed, so I ended up sitting beside her, near her waist. I leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss before sitting back up and turning on the vibrator. She looked nervous at first, but she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh as I began tracing around the areola on her left breast with the sex toy. I spent a minute on her left nipple, teasing it and applying different amounts of pressure on it, until moving to the right breast. When I had finished with her breasts, I could see that Traci was wet. She was not dripping wet, though, like in some of our previous encounters, so I brought the vibrator up to her face. Her eyes flew open when she felt the vibrating tool pressed against the lips of her mouth, and it took her a moment to figure out what I needed from her. When it dawned on her what her task was, she opened her mouth and allowed the silver colored toy to enter her mouth. Once she had coated the vibrator with her saliva, I took it from her mouth and brought it down to her sex. The outer lips of Traci's labia were engorged with blood, the stimulation of her breasts having an effect on her lower region. I traced along the outer edge of her pussy with the vibrator, which caused her to gyrate her hips as she tried to press against the vibrating toy. As my right hand guided the vibrator around her sex, my left hand began to reassuringly stroke her left leg. Traci let out an appreciative moan when I brought the vibrator up to her clit. Since I wanted Traci's first experience with the sex toy to be a pleasant one, I did not do anything to discourage that idea. When Traci's orgasm was approaching, I did not move the vibrator away, as I might have done to prolong it. Instead, I kept constant contact with her clitoris until she climaxed. When her clit became too sensitive to touch, I moved the vibrator away and turned it off. It took her half a minute to recover from the orgasm. "How do you like it?" I asked her. "Oh, wow. That was awesome!" She quickly added, "But not as good as it is when you do it." I smiled at my girlfriend. I did not know if she truly felt that way or was just saying that so as not to hurt my ego. I did not care either way; as long as Traci's happiness was assured, I could care less if a sex toy beat me out in the pleasure department. As long as I get cigarettes out of the process, then I was happy. "Think you are ready for more?" "Yeah, I think I could go again," Traci replied with a grin. I brought the vibrator up to my mouth and licked some of Traci's juices from it before bringing it back down to Traci's sex. I repeated my pattern from before, running the toy around her outer lips before I guided the silver colored toy to her opening. Its diameter was only an inch, so its girth was smaller than mine was, and it had no problems entering her vagina. Although the surface of the vibrator was smooth, I still began to corkscrew it as I moved it in and out of her pussy. As Traci was climbing to the plateau of another orgasm, I decided to speed matters along by turning on the vibrator. This brought out a small shriek from her when she felt the vibrations along the inner walls of her vagina. I was so intent on bringing Traci to another orgasm, I did not hear the door open. "Oh my, I'm sorry," apologized a very embarrassed Rose. I turned to see Rose standing in the doorway. She was holding her cleaning pail that contained dust rags, window cleaner, feather duster, and other tools she used when cleaning. The color in her cheeks started to match her hair, and I did not help matters when I said, "Oh, it's okay. You can stay and watch if you want." For her part, Traci had covered her exposed breasts with her left arm and had moved her right hand to cover her privates. It was rather difficult task for her to accomplish, since I had not ceased my movements with the vibrator. She voiced her predicament, "Damnit, Chad, knock it off!" By the time I had removed the vibrating sex toy from Traci's pussy, Rose had left the doorway and closed the door behind her. Traci was still rather embarrassed, and it took a moment for her to compose herself. "Why did she have to come in right at that moment? I was almost there." I chuckled and said, "Well, she didn't expect to find anybody here, since this room is never used." "Hmph. Perhaps now that I know what a vibrator can do, I might just end up staying in this room more often." "Fine by me, at least I can get to sleep easier without having to listen to your snores." "I don't snore," protested my girlfriend. I leaned over and kissed Traci gently. I then asked, "How close were you?" "Less than a minute, I think." "Well, let's get back to it before anybody else comes in." Instead of resuming what I had been doing, I instead moved the vibrating toy to her clit. While I pressed the vibrator against her clitoris, I brought two fingers from my left hand up to my mouth. Making sure they were well coated with saliva, I then moved them down to her pussy. I slid them into her opening and began to finger-fuck her while increasing the contact of the vibrator against her clit. The interruption that Rose had caused only postponed Traci's climax by a few minutes. When my girlfriend came, she reached up and used a pillow to scream her orgasm into. Perhaps she was afraid that Rose was standing outside the door, and Traci did not want Rose to hear her. I knew she was done with her orgasm when she began to jerk her hips away from the sexy toy, trying to escape its vibrations. I turned it off and stretched out beside Traci. She felt the weight on the bed shift and moved the pillow away from her face. I propped up my head with my right arm and began to run my fingers through her hair with my left. I leaned in and kissed her softly once her face was uncovered. "You look so sexy when you come. I wish you hadn't covered your face when you climaxed." "Sorry, Chad. I just became so self-conscious after Rose had interrupted us. I didn't want to be as loud as Rose," Traci said, as she rolled onto her side so she could look at me. I grinned at her and said, "Trust me, you are nowhere near as loud as she is." She gave me a frown and demanded, "And how would you know how loud she is?" I could detect a little mirth behind her eyes, so I knew she was not truly upset that I knew how loud our redheaded friend was during her climax. It was her curiosity that drove her to ask about my knowledge of it. The reason why I had not told Traci about the night I had walked into the house while Pollyanna was eating out her lover in the living room was that it was a private matter between the two of them. I eluded her question by stating, "I just know, and no, I was not involved in it." She pressed on, "But how do you know how loud she can be?" "Listen, do you want me going to your friends and telling them about our sex life?" Traci shrugged, "I don't care. I tell them anyway." "Okay. Tell you what, next time the otakus come over, I'll tell them all about what happened on Christmas." "You wouldn't dare!" "You're right; I would never tell them about what goes on between the two of us. Now, why can't you see that perhaps the reason why I have firsthand knowledge on how loud Rose gets when she climaxes might be something she doesn't want shared?" Traci gave me a small pout and said, "Fine, I guess I'll just have to ask her." I shrugged and said, "Okay by me. If she wants to tell you about it, so be it." We laid there for a minute, staring into each other's eyes. My left hand continued to run my fingers through her hair until she reached out and grabbed it. She brought it to her face, took my pointer finger, and brought it to her mouth. She sucked the tip of the finger between her lips and began to slide her tongue around the tip. After a few seconds of doing that, she withdrew my wet digit and asked, "Why do you still have your clothes on?" I smiled saying, "No need for me to be undressed. I got my two cigarettes out of it." She smiled back, rolling her eyes, and asked, "Wouldn't three cigarettes be better than two?" I could not fault her logic, so I did not protest when she reached down to undo my pants. ------- Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed, and headed to the backyard to smoke four cigarettes. I hadn't been trying to earn a fourth one, instead I had just laid back and let Traci be in control, trying to bring me to a quick climax. As she was riding my cock, I spotted the vibrator lying on the bed. I thought it was unfair that it was not being used, so I decided to bring it into play. The vibrating tip pressed against Traci's sphincter brought her to her third orgasm, and her spasming pussy brought me to my first. As I was passing through the living room, Rose spotted me while she was coming down the stairs with a basket of laundry. I gave her a wave as I went to the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard. Only a couple of minutes had passed since I lit up my first cigarette when I heard the door open behind me, signaling somebody else had come out to join me. "I'm sorry that I walked in on you two guys." "No worries, Rose. Though, I think it would have freaked Traci out if you had actually stayed to watch." She gave the back of my shoulder a playful punch as she moved to sit down beside me at the patio table I was sitting at. Once she was seated, she said, "For half a second, I thought about calling your bluff and coming in." I returned her grin with one of my own and inquired, "Who said I was bluffing? She shook her head and said, "That's the thing, I can never tell. I think John is the only one who knows when you bluff." Rose was referring to John Kawano, the only one of our card-playing friends who could give me a run for my money. "I thought you might get a kick of the two of us going at it." Rose let out a snort and said, "I might like watching hentai and some of those real life pornos you downloaded, but watching my friends fucking would be too much." "I downloaded? I seemed to remember only downloading six of them from MuffTorrents.com, yet the folder on my server seems to have over two dozen." Rose blushed slightly and replied, "I was just curious what it looked like when a guy and girl did it. Anime makes it seems like a guy shoots gallons of cum and the girl gushing wet, that torrents of juices just flow down their legs." I chuckled and said, "Well, as I am sure you have seen, guys don't shoot gallons. More like tablespoons, and the way Traci and I have been going at it, I doubt I could fill a teaspoon." Rose giggled and said, "She likes to keep you well drained, doesn't she." "Why do you think I was showing her how to use a vibrator." While her giggles turned to full laughter, I lit up my second cigarette. Once she had recovered from her mirth, I told Rose "By the way, your name came up afterwards." "Duh, I did walk in while you two were going at it." I shook my head and said, "Actually, I made a comment about how loud you were when you climaxed, and Traci demanded to know how I knew that. Anyway, don't be surprised when she corners you and asks to know how I know." She gave a small frown and asked, "You never told her about walking in on Pollyanna and me?" I shook my head and said, "Not my place to. What happens between you and Pollyanna is your business, not Traci's." "But what about now? You were just talking about what you and Traci were just doing." I smiled at my redheaded friend. "Two things about that. One, you walked in and saw what was going on and, two, I am sure that Traci will tell you all about what we were doing." Rose grinned at that and said, "That's true. You know, she actually asked Pollyanna and me what it was like, making love to another girl." "What did you tell her?" Rose's grin grew larger, "I told her that it was to hard to explain, but I could show her first hand. She blushed and declined my invitation. At least it stopped her from bugging us about it." I chuckled, imagining the scene in my head. Rose then asked, "You mentioned the stuff you downloaded. Are you going to do that kind of stuff to Lori?" Rose was talking about the BDSM videos I had downloaded. "I don't know. I got them so that Lori can see what some of that stuff might entail. It is one thing to read about it, but another to watch it actually being done to someone. I'll have to wait and see which parts she still feels interested in, once she gets a better idea of what's involved." Traci came out to the backyard then and joined us at the table. After Rose apologized to her friend for walking in on the two of us, she added, "It looks like I have another toy to clean." One of the tasks that Rose had insisted on was making sure that the tools and toys in the dungeon were well-cleaned and taken care off. None of them had been actually used on anybody yet, but she still made sure that they were ready to use at a moment's notice. Traci blushed at that comment, but stated, "No way. You probably want to lick my vibrator clean so you can taste my juices, you dirty dyke." Rose chuckled and said, "Now, why would I need to do that? If I want to taste you, I just have to kiss Chad, like your mom did." I let out a theatrical groan at that comment. It had taken a few days until Marge could look me or her daughters in the eye, and her flirting had diminished from what it was before New Year's. Rose then added, "Maybe one of these days I'll get it straight from the source." "Dream on, carpet muncher. I'll let you sleep with Chad before I ever sleep with you." Rose gave me an appraising look before saying, "I think I could put up with a little dick if it meant I could get to your sweet pussy." "Trust me, it ain't little, especially when it's plowing into you," replied Traci. "I've seen bigger," Rose said. I knew it was true, because I had seen a few of the pornos she had downloaded. One series, 'Monsters of Cock', was properly titled. When a guy's manhood was larger than his forearm, there was something wrong in the world. "Don't I have a say in the matter?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "No!" they both replied. All three of us broke into laughter. Traci added, "Remember, I own your cock now. I say where it goes, and who it goes into to." "Yeah, though I also noticed how the vibrator became YOUR vibrator," I said to Traci. "Well, duh! You're not going to be using it on anybody but me." "Well, if you two will excuse me, I think I have some sheets to go clean. At least Traci's bedroom is being used, now." "Don't you be trying to suck out our juices with your mouth," joked Traci. "Why would I want to do that, especially when you pee on Chad," Rose shot back, dashing in the house before Traci could get up to chase her. Traci was beet red from Rose's parting shot. "Perhaps it might be better if you don't tell your friends EVERYTHING that happens between the two of us." Traci rolled her eyes, but said, "You might be right. Especially since they don't tell me what goes on with them." ------- Chapter 19 "Chad, I think I might be ready for you to have sex with my sister." It was a week after Traci had discovered the location of the Dungeon. We had both woken up early and were lying in bed, my right arm around Traci while she rested her head on my chest. I kissed the top of her head and asked, "Are you sure?" "No, that's why I said I think I'm ready. I think it might be best if you had sex with somebody else first, though; that way, if I can't handle it, then it won't affect Lori. I think it would be worse if I let her do it once, and then denied her the chance to do it again, rather than not allowing her to have sex with you at all." "It sounds like you have been doing a lot of thinking." Traci nodded into my chest. I unwrapped my arm from her and started to reach for the phone. That prompted Traci to ask, "Who are you calling?" "Fran, just wanted to see if she was free for sex." After Traci shot me a dark look, I rolled back over towards her and kissed her on the nose. "You know, you left yourself wide open for that. You obviously have somebody in mind. You should have just said who in the first place." "Mom." I studied the look on Traci's face, and I could see that she was quite resolved in her choice. I decided to find out why she chose her mother. "Why Marge?" Traci answered, "Well, I know that Mom is already attracted to you, and if I could handle you having sex with my mom, then I could handle you having sex with my sister. Also, Mom must be lonely. Trust me, I know that three years sometimes does not seem like a long time, but in other ways, it seems like an eternity. She doesn't break down and cry like she used to, but I'll catch her sometimes getting teary when something reminds her of Dad." "Maybe your mom isn't as horny as her daughters," I supplied. That drew a snort from Traci. "Trust me, Mom can be horny. I know for a fact that she masturbates. She thought we had all fallen asleep during the first sleepover, but I hadn't, and I saw her pleasuring herself." I grinned at that, thinking back to the occasion. No wonder Marge had been embarrassed when I commented about the smell of the living room. I refocused on the subject at hand. "If I had sex with your mother, it will change the way all three of us interact. You might no longer see her as a mother, but as my lover and a possible threat. In a way, me having sex with her could make her your equal in your eyes. Are you prepared for that risk?" "If somebody told me six months ago that I would be lying in bed, trying to convince my boyfriend to have sex with my mother while I watched, I would have told them that they were crazy." "You want to watch?" She blushed as she realized she had let that slip. She decided that since she had let the cat out of the bag, she might as well plunge on. "Yeah, I do, actually. I want to be in the room. I'm not sexually attracted to my mom, so I won't join in or anything, but I want to be there." "Okay, when do you think would be a good time for the three of us talk about this?" "Well, I had thought that we might want to spring it on her tomorrow. She's not working, and Lori said she could take the rest of the girls to the movies instead of our regular lunch date. That should give us plenty of time for you to make love to her." I shook my head. "Two things with what you just said. One, your mom likes to weigh all of her options, and I doubt that she would be eager to take such a big step without thinking about it for a long time. The second thing is that you just said 'make love to her'. I've told you before that you are the only person in my life that I have made love to, and if we do end up doing something with Marge, it will be just sex. However, I could foresee me possibly falling in love with her. We both love the same person, and that might transfer to feelings of love for each other. I honestly don't know if I can love more than one person at the same time. Then again, I never thought I would fall in love at all until I met you." I had been tempted to say 'until I met Fran', but I realized the seriousness of the conversation we were having. Traci said, "I love you, Mom, and Lori, but it is a different type of love that I feel for you. Are you saying that if we do this, I might have the same type of love that I feel for you applied to my mom?" I let out a long sigh and said, "I don't know. As much experience as I have had with sex, I don't know about love. This aspect is new to me." Written on Traci's face was the question I knew she wanted to ask, but was afraid to. She knew that I had been sexuality active before I met her, and part of her wanted to know the details. Another part of her was afraid of the truth. The few times she had worked up the courage to ask, I had told her that I didn't 'kiss and tell', but the last time she had asked, I had told her that if she really wanted to know the exact details, I would tell her. Since then, she had stopped asking. "I still think it would be better to spring it on Mom, so that if she has to think about it, then fine. If not, then we can go ahead. It would be better for me if I plunged in, instead of wading in." "Okay. We'll follow your plan for now and see what develops tomorrow. Anyway, we better get up and get ready for school. ------- Marge was up in her room when Traci and I approached her the following morning. Lori was driving Rose around so that she could do her grocery shopping. Rose preferred to shop in the morning so that she could buy bakery goods that were reduced for a quick sale. I think if Rose had it her way, she would stop by the stores every morning to see if she could pick up some bargains. Marge was curled up in a cushioned armchair, one of the pieces of future that she had brought from her house, reading a novel. When we entered the room, Traci and I sat on Marge's bed so we could face her. I decided to give her a heads-up about the type of conversation we were going to have. "Mrs. Caspar, your daughter and I would like to talk to you." Upon hearing the way I addressed her, she immediately bookmarked her novel and set it down. She overacted the part when she grabbed the arms of the chair and physically braced herself for what was about to be said. She gave a smile at my expression, and then nodded for us to continue. "Mom, you know that Lori has to wait until I'm ready before I let her to do anything with Chad. Well, I think I'm ready, but I'm not sure if I can handle it. I thought that it might be safer... if I let Chad have sex with you first, to see if I can." The smile on Marge's face faded, and she sat back in her chair. After a moment of letting the words sink in, she gave me a look and asked, "Was this your idea?" Before I could respond, Traci answered for me. "No Mom, this was my idea. I actually had to convince Chad that this would be the best solution." Marge shifted her attention to her daughter, "So, you think you can USE your mom to see if you can handle having your boyfriend fuck somebody else?" There was a slight trace of anger in Marge's voice, and Traci visibly flinched at it. I could detect Traci was on the verge of tears when she said, "No Mom, I don't want to just USE you. I love you, and I know that you're attracted to Chad. I just thought..." "So what? I might be attracted to Chad, but that does not mean that I'm going to act on it. What gives you the right for you to decide that I'm going to be your little guinea pig?" As Traci tried to work up a reply, I laid my hand on her knee and decided that I should finally step into the conversation. "Marge, while I'm not sure that this might be the wisest move, I know Traci has put a great deal of thought into it. She would have never suggested it if she thought it could hurt you. I explained to her that if we did do this, it would forever change the type of relationship we have. Also, I would not be 'fucking' you. I would be having sex." "And the difference being?" Marge asked, a little of the anger fading from her tone. "To me, 'fucking' is what two people do when there is no emotional attachment involved. 'Having sex', there is a connection between the two people; it isn't as strong as making love, but it's there. I do truly care about you. I told Traci that I'm new at falling in love, but if it was possible for me to love more than one person at a time, I could see myself falling for you. That was one of the risks Traci and I have already discussed." She gave a small snort and said, "You see yourself falling in love with such an ugly old lady?" "Baka, don't give me 'ugly'! Calling yourself ugly is calling your daughters ugly. When I look at you, I see what Traci and Lori will look like in eighteen years. When I first met you, I told you that you could pass for an older sister, and I wasn't lying. You have a hot, firm, nubile body, Mrs. Caspar, and if I had not met your daughter, I would have tried to seduce you." She gave me a half-smile, and then motioned with her hand that I should continue with my compliments. She finally stopped me when I was comparing her with Helen of Troy. After she chuckled at some of the silly lines I had used, once again I tried to convey that she was indeed a beautiful woman whom I would jump at the chance to have sex with. "Knowing you, I bet you want me to fuc... have sex with Chad right now," Marge said to her daughter with a bemused look. Marge knew that patience was not one of Traci's strong suits. She did not know what else Traci had in mind, so was surprised when my girlfriend added, "Yes, and I want to stay and watch the two of you." Throughout the conversation we had been having -- that is, after Marge had gotten over her initial reaction to it -- I had noticed some signs that Marge was growing aroused. A slight flush, the hardening of her nipples through her tee shirt, the unconscious shifting in her seat, and so on. There was a trace of it as well in her voice, when she asked, "Are you sure about that, dear?" "No, I'm not sure; that's why I'm going to stay here and watch. I want to make sure that I can handle the idea of Chad being with somebody. So how about it? Here, why don't we switch places right now?" Traci got up from the bed and went over to her mom. She helped Marge to her feet and guided her to the bed, where she sat her down next to me. Traci then went over to the chair that her mom had been sitting in. I turned to look into Marge's eyes, and I once again was transported to the night that Traci and I had kissed for the first time. There was the same excitement in Marge's eyes, mixed in with a little bit of fear. It was obvious she had decided to go through with this after all. However, I knew there was a small matter that needed to be aired before we continued. Clearing my throat, I softly asked Marge, "When was the last time you were tested?" Marge and I both turned to the audible gasp that came from Traci. Traci seemed flustered when she said, "Chad, I told you that Mom has only had sex with one other guy: Dad! Why are you asking her that?" Marge gestured at her daughter to take it easy. "Traci, dear, I'm a nurse. During my job, I do come in contract with bodily fluid. Chad has every right to ask that question; he's not just protecting himself, he is also protecting you." She then turned to me and answered my question, "I was tested in December, and I was fine. They test us twice a year, so my next test will be in June unless something happens -- like getting stuck with a used needle or something like that. And, no, I'm not on the pill, so you had better us a rubber." I nodded at her answer to my unasked question. I leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Feeling Marge tense up, I then pulled back and asked her if she was sure about this. She looked at me briefly, then grinned. It appeared that any traces of fear had been replaced with lust, as she pulled me to her so I could kiss her again. As we kissed, I ran my left hand along her back, while my right hand moved up to cup her right breast. As I caressed her, I could not help but compare her to Traci. She was about a full cup-size larger then her youngest daughter, but her breasts were still firm. I rubbed my thumb over her erect nipple through the thin material of her tee shirt. When she moaned, I used that as an opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth and began to explore it. While we were kissing, I slid both hands down to her waist, and began to lift up her shirt. She broke the kiss to remove her shirt herself. We then resumed our kissing; this time my hands had free access to her breasts. Marge's areolas were a tad bit larger than her daughter's were, but the nipples were just as sensitive. She moaned into my mouth as I began to roll her left nipple gently with my right forefinger and thumb. After a minute or so, I broke the kiss and stood up. I peeled off my shirt and began to undo my pants. I stole a quick glance over at my girlfriend. She was sitting in the chair, slightly rigid, with her poker face on. When our eyes met, she flashed me a smile, but the conflict in her eyes was visible despite the distance between the two of us. Marge took that opportunity to remove her shorts. When we were both naked, instead of rejoining Marge on the bed, I sank to my knees beside her. I raised my hands to her sides and gently guided her to lean her torso towards me. When her breasts came within striking distance of my mouth, my tongue quickly darted out and gave her left nipple a quick swipe. She let out a gasp at the sudden contact and then a soft moan as my tongue began a slow path, sliding around her areola. When my tongue made contact with her nipple again, I enveloped my mouth around it and began to suck, slowly increasing suction as my tongue darted back and forth over it. I bit down, ever so softly, with my teeth, causing Marge's moans to become more vocal. She let out a cry of disappointment when I broke my contact with her breast, but let out a sigh of relief when I moved my head over to her right breast to begin the process anew. After her right breast had received the same treatment as her left (balance, after all), I began my descent down her body. I trailed small kisses down from her breasts to her navel. As I focused my attention to what lay below her bellybutton, a grin broke across my face, and I stopped what I was doing. "It looks like you prepared yourself for me." I shifted my gaze from Marge's pussy to her face. Her sexual flush and excitement masked if she was embarrassed by my comment. She was breathing heavily from my foreplay, and it took a few seconds to compose herself and explained the state of her pubic region. "That night you talked about shaving reminded me how much I use to enjoy being bare down there. I started shaving shortly afterwards because... well, it just makes jilling off so much better." "See, I told ya she masturbates." Both Marge and I were slightly surprised by Traci. We had been so focused upon each other that we had forgotten that she was even in the room. I glanced over at my girlfriend and said, "Hey, quiet in the peanut gallery!" "Yeah, especially from somebody who is 'digging for clams' herself," Marge said, with a giggle. Traci was sitting back in the chair with her legs parted and the top of her jeans unzipped, exposing her white cotton panties. Her left hand was on her chest, with her right resting on the top of her thigh. It was not hard to guess where the hand had been before she had made her comment. It appeared that Traci had overcome her hesitation of Marge and I having sex. I focused my attention back to Marge's pussy. She had shaved her entire pubic region, save for a strip one inch wide and three inches long on her pubic mound. I placed my hands on her knees to part her legs so that I could have a better view of Marge's inner sanctum. I did not have to apply any pressure, for she spread her legs wide with no further guidance from me. As she spread her legs, she allowed her body to fall so that she ended up lying on her back. Her pussy was similar to her daughter's: clamshell in shape, with her inner lips being smooth. However, the length of her lips was about a half-inch longer. Due to the interruption in our foreplay, I thought it prudent to begin my teasing again. I started by bringing my right hand off of her knee and running a couple of fingertips along her inner thighs. I barely made contact with her skin as my fingers caressed her flesh. I soon replaced my fingers with my lips; again, just brushing my lips against her skin. I then ran my tongue along the junction between her inner thighs and vulva. Working my way closer to the center, I licked the groove that was created by the meeting of her outer and inner labia. Her inner lips were already engorged with blood, and I increased it by drawing them into my mouth and sucking on them. Marge's moaning grew louder as I feasted on her succulent pussy. She let out a cry of surprise when my nose brushed against her clit. From the sound she made, I decided that her love bud was ready for more direct stimulation. I relaxed my tongue and made a soft lick along the center of her valley. She let out a louder moan when my tongue touched her clitoris, and let out a groan of disappointment when it broke contact. Marge had a slightly different taste than her daughter. I decided that one lick was not good enough to make a proper judgment, so I began my tongue bath anew. After a short while, I stiffened my tongue up and began to insert it into her opening, trying to stimulate the sensitive walls of her vagina. Marge was practically dripping wet, so I brought up my right hand and coated my pointer finger with her juices. Once I was sure it was well lubricated, I inserted it into her hot box and curved it upwards, running it along the upper wall of her vagina. Marge knew what I was looking for, and after a few directional hints from her, I found her G spot. As my finger began to massage her Grafenberg spot, I quickly brought the thumb of my left hand up to my mouth, and coated it with saliva. I then transferred it to her clit to withdraw her foreskin. Her clit was already rather erect and did not need much help in that department. I drew the love button into my mouth and started sucking gently, increasing pressure at Marge's encouragement. With the dual simulation, it was not long until Marge reached orgasm, sending my chin awash with fluid as she did. Since it lacked an acrid smell, I was pretty sure it was ejaculation. I did not have a measuring cup handy, but I estimated it was close to half a cup of fluid that came from her paraurethral glands. While it was not the most I had ever experienced, it was by far not the least. I kept the suction on her clit throughout her long orgasm. When she finally came down, it did not appear that her clit was too sensitive, so I used my teeth and bit down softly. That seemed to jump-start her climb to a second climax. My finger started to stimulate her G spot when she moaned, "Chad, please; I want to FEEL you inside of me!" I withdrew from between her legs and retrieved my pants. I fished out a condom, along with a little surprise for later. After I had put on the prophylactic and made sure it was secure, I suggested, "Why don't you move to the center of the bed so that Traci can have a good view." Glancing over at my girlfriend when I said that revealed that she had grown a little bolder. Her pants were now on the floor, and she had her vibrator pressed against her pussy, rubbing it through her now-soaked panties. I was not even sure if Traci heard what I had said, but Marge had and readily moved herself into position. The bedspread was rather ruffled from our exploits, so it was easy to conceal the surprise that I had palmed once I positioned myself between Marge's legs. The condom that I had on was lubricated -- not that it was needed with as wet as Marge was. Once I positioned the head of my cock at her opening, I shifted my attention to her face. My eyes locked with hers as I inserted my manhood into her. Since Marge had given birth to two children, I had expected a looser vagina than the one her youngest daughter possessed. I was greatly wrong; if anything, she was tighter than my first time with Traci! Marge grinned at the puzzled look on my face as I renewed my efforts in trying to move my cock through her vise-like grip. I was pushing myself rather hard when suddenly, without warning, the grip around my dick was released and I ended up driving my full length into her, non-stop, until I bottomed out. My cry of surprise was matched with her shout of ecstasy. I tentatively started to withdraw and found the resistance that I had initially felt was gone. When my cock was halfway out of her pussy, though, I felt the walls of her vagina clamp down around me again. I returned the grin that she had given me, once I realized that Marge had very good muscle control of her nether region. Now that she had played her little trick on me, she relaxed the muscles in her vagina to the point where it was enjoyable for the both of us. I started my pace off slow, gradually building up a head of steam. It was not long until I was thrusting into Marge akin to a piston. The sound of my balls slapping against her wet sex filled the room, along with the moans of Marge and her daughter. I glanced over at Traci and saw that she was staring at us with rapt attention. Marge had her eyes closed, so I leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear. "Look over at your daughter getting herself off. I bet she is doing what Mel used to do when you and John were having sex." Marge did not answer me verbally, but the shudder that passed through her body as she recalled the memory answered volumes. Seeing the effect my words had on her, I decided to press on. "Once he came in you, your sister would suck out his cum from your pussy, didn't she? I am thinking that you used to do the same to her, as well. Perhaps in the future, when I cum in one of your daughters, they might let you eat them out afterwards." Spasms coursed throughout Marge's body as my words triggered her orgasm. Thankfully, the condom I was wearing dampened the effect of her clenching pussy, or I would have most likely came as well. I quickened my thrusts, trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible. Once Marge had stopped quivering, I glanced over at Traci. My girlfriend was frantically sliding the silver dildo in and out of her pussy with one hand, while the other was underneath her tee-shirt, pinching her right nipple. Figuring that Traci might enjoy a better view, I withdrew my cock from Marge. I moved to the side of Marge and asked her to roll onto her left, facing her daughter. I positioned myself behind her and lifted her right leg up. Marge caught on what I wanted to do and took control of her leg herself. After I had eased myself into her passage, she wrapped her leg back around me, pulling her closer to me. The perspective was much better, and Traci could clearly see my cock in her mom's pussy. While I had been in the process of shifting positions, I had retrieved the tube I had hidden in the bedcover. It was somewhat difficult to unscrew the cap one-handed, but I was able to get the cap off and squeeze a dab of the cream onto my fingers. I then let go of the tube and snaked my hand between our bodies, down to Marge's ass. Marge jerked slightly when she felt my fingers make contact with her rosebud, but she let out a low groan when I started to rub the lubricant on her rectum. After I withdrew my hand, I started to increase the tempo of my thrusts. Her moaning told me that the new speed, it was greatly appreciated, and I heard a cry from across the room, signaling that my girlfriend had reached an orgasm. It was only a few minutes later that her mother had one, as well. It took a great deal of effort not to cum when Marge did. When she came down from her climax, I withdrew from her pussy. She turned her head to look at me in surprise when I removed my condom. "I want to fill you with my cum," I told her. Marge protested, "I told you that I wasn't on the pill!" I grinned and said, "Trust me, you won't get pregnant, especially since my sperm won't get anywhere near your eggs." It dawned on her what I had in mind, and her surprised look turned into one of wanton lust. Since we had already worked pretty close to the edge of the bed, Marge crawled towards the center. She spread her knees wide and leaned forward on her elbows. I moved between her legs and positioned myself behind her. Marge relaxed her body when she felt the head of my cock against her rear passage. I slowly eased my cock into her sphincter, making sure to pay attention to her reaction. When I heard Marge let out a loud moan of pleasure, I knew that the Anal Eze that I had used had worked its magic. The desensitizing cream not only was a lubricant, but it also took away the initial sting that anal penetration caused. My strokes started slow and shallow, gradually working my way deeper into her ass. Marge had her head buried into a pillow, so I glanced over to my girlfriend. She was sprawled out on the chair, her orgasm taking a toll on her body. Traci watched with fascination as I anally violated her mother, something that the two of us had not done yet. When I caught her eye, I motioned to her to toss over the vibrator. It took her a few seconds to understand what I wanted, but a grin erupted across her face when she realized it. I had to shift a little to catch the pocket rocket, but it did not appear that Marge noticed. With my free hand, I reached out and grabbed some of Marge's hair. A gentle pull caused her to lift her head up, and I brought the silver colored sex toy to her face. "Can you smell that, the scent of your daughter? Does she smell anything at all like your sister?" Marge had moved her right hand down to play with her clit while I was fucking her ass, and her rubbing increased with my words. I took the vibrator away from her face and turned it on. I then moved it down to where her hand was, and Marge quickly snatched the vibrator away from me. She started to use the sex toy where her hand had been. The sensation that the vibrator caused when Marge inserted it into her pussy was too much and, with one final thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and released my seed harmlessly into her bowels. I think the sensation overload of me cumming and the vibrator in her pussy caused Marge to climax as well. When we both came down from our orgasms, we practically collapsed onto the bed, my cock still inside her asshole. "My love, could you go fetch us some toilet paper?" I asked my girlfriend. After Traci had returned with the toilet paper, I carefully withdrew my spent cock from Marge's asshole and then carefully placed a wad of the toilet paper that Traci had handed me against the sphincter. Traci giggled over my antics, so I said, "Sure, laugh now. I don't think you'd be laughing in nine months when you got a new brother because of an errant sperm." Marge reached down to hold the toilet paper in place as she rolled on her back. She studied me for my reaction when she asked, "What would you do if I did get pregnant?" I shrugged, since my answer seemed obvious. "Then I would do the honorable thing and marry you. Coach Turner once told me that I should never have sex with a girl unless I could picture myself being married to her and helping her raise our children. I think it's sound advice. It might be weird having my girlfriend also being my daughter, but my wife shouldn't have any problems with incest." Marge and Traci both chuckled at my comment. However, with sudden realization of the situation the three of us were in, Traci became bashful. She quickly moved over to put on her jeans. I crawled off the bed to retrieve my clothes as well, since Lori and Rose would be returning shortly. I looked back at Marge and saw her smiling at me. I could also see her eyes beginning to well up with tears. With concern, I asked, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just some memories that worked their way up to the surface. Really, I'm okay. I think I had better go and take a shower." When Marge got out of bed, I moved over to her and wrapped my arms around her in a hug. A now-clothed Traci also came over and joined us in a three-way hug. When we broke the hug, two tears were streaking down Marge's face. I kissed away the tear on her left cheek while Traci did the same on Marge's right. "Want to join me in the shower?" Marge jokingly asked me. Her attempt at humor was an effort to mask some of the mixed emotions she was feeling. "I'd better not. Lori and Rose should be getting back from grocery shopping shortly." Nodding, Marge turned to her daughter and seductively asked, "What about you, want to wash Mommy's back?" Traci's surprised reaction caused both Marge and I to chuckle. "I'm just teasing you, dear," Marge quickly added. "Yeah, and look where your teasing led you. You would think that some people would learn from their mistakes," admonished Traci with a grin. We all had a small laugh, and Marge went to go take her shower, alone. Even though I had planned on a shower as well, I figured it was best to put on some clothes just in case the girls returned before I made it back to my room. As Traci and I were leaving Marge's room, I spotted the vibrator on the bed and retrieved it. Traci recoiled from it when I held it out to her. "I can't believe you used that on Mom! You had better return it clean, motherfucker," Traci said with mirth in her voice. Shaking my head, I corrected her. "Only your mother, my love." ------- The next morning after the little escapade with Marge, Traci suggested that I talk to Lori that afternoon. We had just finished brushing our teeth and had just spent a few minutes checking to make sure our mouths were fresh, when Traci made that comment. "Okay, I'll talk to her. Just to make sure we are not disturbed, I'll use your room, since almost nobody ever goes in there." "Hmm, I'm not sure I like that. I bet you have some of those toys hidden in there." I smiled at my girlfriend and said, "I just want to talk to Lori today. I highly doubt that anything will occur. Just because you gave your permission for me to undertake exploring Lori's sexuality, does not mean that I'm going to start 'knocking boots' with her immediately." The two of us resumed exploring each other's mouths, ensuring each other that we had proper oral hygiene. We finally had to stop; otherwise, somebody might have come looking for us, to inform us that breakfast was ready. While we ate breakfast, Marge, Traci, and I, kept stealing looks at each other. A smile here, a slight blush there, an uncomfortable silence every so often. I was unsure if Rose and Lori picked up on it, but they were bound to find out what had happened the previous day, sooner or later. Since Rose did the laundry, she would know as soon as she washed Marge's sheets that something had occurred -- at least, something in Marge's bedroom. As for Lori, I thought that Traci would be the one to fill her older sister in. Rose interrupted my musings with an announcement. "Mrs. Huntington is going to stop by to pick me up, so that Pollyanna and I can go shopping at the mall." "Cool beans. Wait a second, there's a shopping expedition, and I wasn't invited?" Rose shot me a grin, and replied, "Yup. We might end up buying you a birthday present, and we don't want to ruin the surprise. Anytime we go shopping, you're not invited. Unless, perhaps, you want to clue us in when your birthday might be." Once again, the girls had another plan to extract the date of my birthday from me. I decided to throw them a bone, and said, "It is between Fran's birthday and Rose's birthday." "Why in the hell do you know that skank's birthday?" I blinked in mock surprise and said to Traci, "Because we were there. Anyway, why are you calling Rose a skank?" "Yeah," added Rose, playing along. "I might be wicked and a sinner, and I might even have a tainted soul, but I ain't no skank." There was humor in Rose's voice, as she used the words that her mom had called her, but I wondered if they were masking the damage that they had caused when the poor excuse of a mother had used them. "Don't try to change the subject! How do you know when Fran's birthday is?" asked Traci. "Baka, I know all of my lovers' birthdays," I told my girlfriend. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Marge blushed slightly at the use of the word 'lover'. Traci must have decided she was not hungry anymore, since she chose to throw her sausage link at me. When she moved to hurl a spoonful of scrambled eggs at me, Marge had had enough. "Young lady, if you do that, you will be grounded for a week!" Even the threat of being grounded was almost not enough to stop her, but she eventually relented, and set down her spoon. I was happy to see that Marge still had parental control over her daughter, even after Traci had witnessed her mom and I having sex together. Hopefully, it was something that would last, since there needed to be somebody to control Traci. I sure as hell could not. "Maybe Traci should do the breakfast dishes as punishment," supplied Lori. "I don't get off on punishment, unlike some people at this table," sniped Traci. Then a flash of inspiration appeared on her face, so she hurriedly added, "However, yeah, you're right. I'll do the dishes, and Rose can get ready for her shopping trip." Traci's sudden change of attitude fooled nobody at the table; I knew that everybody would have their guards up. I decided to shift the focus to me, hoping that it would distract them somewhat. "Well, if you must know, Chuck invited me to his birthday party. Since Fran is his twin, it was easy to deduce when her birthday was. Now, why don't we finish eating before the food gets cold or Traci decides to throw more of it at us." Humor does relax people, but I was sure that everybody knew something was up when breakfast was over. As we were clearing away our dishes, I found myself close to Marge, so after making sure nobody was looking; I leaned in and whispered, "May 12th." I grinned at Marge's surprised look, and added, "As I said, I know all of my lovers' birthdays." I loved seeing the eldest Caspar blush. Since she did not posses a tan like her two daughters, it was something to behold. When Rose headed upstairs to go get ready, I pulled Lori aside and asked her if I could talk to her for a little bit. She gave me a puzzled look, but nodded. Lori and I went to Traci's unoccupied room and closed the door behind us. I gestured for her to take a seat on the bed, and then I pulled a chair over so I could sit facing her. "Lori, I have been putting off this conversation for awhile, and I think it is about time that we had it. I know you like the idea of being dominated, but I haven't asked you why. Do you know why the thought of being dominated or restricted excites you?" A look of anguish appeared on her for face for a moment, but it faded and she slowly nodded. It took a moment for her to compose herself to speak. "I think I do. It goes back to when I was a sophomore and I was dating a junior from the football team, Vince." "Vincent Delamater?" Lori looked surprised, and asked, "Yeah, how did you know his name?" There were only three seniors named Vincent in the yearbook I had memorized, and only one had been on the football team. I cursed inwardly at my stupidity, then hurriedly came up with a plausible lie. "Traci or your mom must have mentioned the name." Lori rolled her eyes and said, "It doesn't surprise me. He was the second guy that I dated -- and the last. We had gone out for a few months, and we were going slowly; I guess a little too slow for him. Anyhow, one night, we went to a party." As Lori spilled her tale about what had happened to her on her date, I felt myself slowly being drained of all emotion. I was reverting to how I was before I left the CYA. The more I heard, the sicker I became. I swore to myself that, if I should ever stray from my path of peace, Vincent Delamater would be the first person I went looking for. After Lori finished describing what transpired that fateful night, I took both her hands in mine and gazed deeply into her eyes, "Lori, what Vince did to you was wrong. Just because your body started to react to what he did to you does not make it okay. You told him no, and he should have stopped. He raped you." Lori shook her head and said, "I know I said no, and I did try to stop him, but I'm sure that deep down I must have wanted it." "Bullshit. When a person says no, they mean no. In addition, from what you described, you were not acting with your full faculties. I wouldn't put it past the asshole to have drugged you." "Well, it doesn't matter. It happened, and now I am a pervert," she smiled weakly as she said that. "Lori, a person's first time can greatly influence how they look at sex. Just because he forced you does not mean that you always have to be forced to receive sexual gratification. As for perverted, what consenting people do together, as long as it doesn't hurt others, should never be thought of as perverted. Rape, on the other hand, is the worst perversion that I can think of." Tears began to well up in her eyes as she asked me, "So, does this mean that you're not going to be my master?" My emotions had started to return to me after Lori had finished her story, and they were fully entrenched when I saw the sadness in her eyes. I kissed a salty tear away, when it rolled down her cheek. "Lori, before I can undertake that task, I think you need to share this story with your mother and sister. I think it is important to them that they know what happened to you. I also think it is important that you tell them because, the more people you tell, the more you can look at what happened to you critically. Your mom and sister are smart women; they might have some insights that you and I don't have." I got out of my chair, sat down beside Lori on the bed, wrapped my arms around her, and held her in a warm embrace. It was void of anything sexual; I tried my hardest to convey that I cared for her with the hug. After a minute, we broke the hug and Lori got up. "I'm going to talk to Traci and Mom," she said, quietly. With that, she left the room. I had vowed to myself that I would rather die than harm another soul ever again. Why did my life matter more than theirs did? To me, it did not. However, when it came to the people that I had surrounded myself with, I could actually envision myself taking somebody's life if it meant preventing harm to those that I cared for. Logically, I knew it was some primal alpha-male urge, that I was protecting my clan. The only problem with logic: instinct will most times override it. ------- Chapter 20 After school on Monday, Rose and I ended up walking home together. With the end of the semester three weeks away, the auditions for the spring cheerleaders were being held that day. We had wanted to stick around to give Traci our support, but Lori informed us that the auditions were closed. I could not help but think that Rose was secretly happy that they were; otherwise, Traci might have renewed her effort in recruiting her redheaded friend to try out. It was while Rose and I were discussing Traci's chances of making the squad that instinct caused me to glance behind us. A car had slowed down and pulling up beside us. I relaxed when I saw that it was merely Marge's car that had triggered my reflexes. Rose turned to see what had caught my attention and spotted Marge. The two of us went over to the now-stationary car. "I thought you two might like a ride home," Marge said as we climbed into the car. We were only four blocks from the house, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I simply said, "Thanks." "Yeah, thanks Mrs. Caspar. But don't you usually drive a different route home from the hospital?" Marge put the car in motion and explained, "I do, but since I was getting off work around the same time school ended, I thought I would just make a slight detour." When we reached home, Rose started on the household duties, and I went into the living room to watch some of the news that the DVR had recorded. Marge joined me on the sofa after she changed out of her nurse's uniform. When I patted the cushion next to me, indicating that she should move closer, she subconsciously glanced at the staircase. Rose was cleaning upstairs; I guessed Marge did not want to be caught snuggling with her daughter's boyfriend. A few seconds went buy while she debated it over in her head, but in the end, she ended up sitting closer to me. Marge stiffened slightly when I wrapped my left arm around her shoulders, but she slowly relaxed and allowed herself to lean against me. "How are you doing?" I asked her. A small chuckle escaped from Marge, and she replied, "Not bad, considering I got a load of cum deposited up my asshole a couple of days ago." Marge let out a laugh when she felt me stiffen and cut me off when I started to apologize. "Chad, I was just kidding. For somebody who teases as much as you do, you need to learn to recognize when somebody teases you." I smiled and nodded my understanding. However, I still pressed on. "Seriously, are you okay? I should have given you a heads-up before Traci and I sprung our plan on you." "Actually, I am surprised myself how well I am handling it. Yeah, a little forewarning would have been nice; but then again, I most likely would have chickened out. At least I now know why Traci goes on about you. It was almost as good as..." Marge's voice trailed off, then after a moment's recovery, she continued, "... almost as good as when it was with John." Marge was smiling, but I was unable to tell if it was genuine or not. She saw the concern in my eyes and immediately reassured me, "Really, I'm fine. Traci told you about how her father got sick, right?" I nodded, so she continued, "Well, we did not tell the girls, but from the start, we knew that the cancer was terminal. Nevertheless, we still fought it aggressively. Part of the reason why I am still having to pay off medical bills is because some of the treatments we tried were not covered by our health insurance. In the end, we knew we were only kidding ourselves and finally accepted the fact that John was going to die. He made me promise him repeatedly that I would try to move on with my life. I assured him that I would, but in the end, I hadn't. I think part of the reason why I tried to keep the house for as long as I did was because of him. Same with working at the hospital; part of me wanted to work where he worked." "But then, you came into our lives, Chad. You were the catalyst that I needed to force me to move forward. There is something about you that makes me forget that you're just fifteen years old; you seem too mature. You're the first person that I had ever flirted with since I got married, and you were able to convince me into moving my family into your home. It was the conversation that we had on Saturday that made realize that I should quit working at the hospital." "You quit your job?" I asked in surprise. Marge flashed a grin and said, "Oops! I guess that cat is out of the bag; I was going to mention it at supper tonight. I put in my two weeks notice today. You see, Dr. Frank Hong, who was friends with John, had asked me to come work for him right after I got my nursing license. I turned him down, partly because of what I said before, but also because I could earn more working overtime at the hospital. California has a nursing shortage, mainly from the nurse-to-patient ratios that the government passed, so overtime was always available. However, as you'd said it would, moving in here has reduced our expenses enough so that I could get by with more normal shifts and enjoy more time with my family. In fact, it not only lets us get by, it gives me a chance to get a little ahead, since I could earn more working at Dr. Hong's office than the same hours at the hospital. So, I decided to take him up on his offer. It would be eight to four on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while on Tuesday and Thursday -- the days he operates -- I only have to do a half-day, eight till noon. I'll still be doing the same kinds of stuff, like drawing blood, but my chances of exposure to any STDs would be practically nonexistent. I couldn't say the same about working at the hospital, especially when working the ER." I sat there quietly, letting all of what Marge had said sink in. "Will that affect our trip at all?" "Nope. I called Frank at lunch today to ask him if the job was still available. We talked a bit after he said yes, and when I mentioned the trip, he seemed delighted that I was going to be taking a trip. He said it wouldn't be a problem at all, since he was already going to be taking a vacation, as well. He has a couple of elementary-school-aged kids, and he is taking them to Disney World during spring break." "Well, I don't know for sure how the girls will respond, but I think that your new job sounds great. I am pretty certain that they would agree with me, since they have enjoyed having you around, especially when you've all been able to actually eat as a family." The Seven O'clock and Ten O'clock news from NHK were broadcast bilingual and, ever since I set up the DVR to record the sumo matches in English, they too were recorded in English. Marge and I lapsed into silence while we watched the news. Suddenly, Marge bolted upright and slid away from me. I looked over to see a smiling Rose coming down the staircase. The redhead did not say anything about catching Traci's mother in a precarious position; instead, she came over and sat down on the other side of me. When she snuggled up to me, my arm instinctively wrapped itself around her shoulders. Rose leaned forward to flash Marge a grin before returning her head to rest on my shoulder. In time, Marge found herself back to where she was before Rose had made her appearance. When I had both ladies snuggled up next to me, I let out a loud sigh of content. This drew chuckles from the girls that I had my arms around. "Hey, can we go ahead and watch the sumo now?" Rose asked. The household's interest in sumo had increased (perhaps because I had mentioned that I wanted to see the Osaka tournament in person during our trip), and ever since the January basho (tournament) started, we had been watching it all together. Cautiously, I asked, "Why?" Rose was silent for a moment before replying, "Because." I had my suspicions. "Because you want to find out who won so you could wager with Traci when we watch it this evening?" "Now really, Chad. Does that sound like me?" Rose asked, almost too innocently. "No, that sounds like me, but I could also see you doing it, as well." Rose did not have to look to see me grinning at her; she could hear the smile in my voice. "Party pooper," was the only answer I received from her. When the news got to the sports section of the show, I started to remove my right arm from around Rose so I could grab the remote control and skip over the bout summary. Only problem was that Rose figured out what I was going to do, leaned back, and trapped my arm between her and the back of the sofa. Marge caught on to this, apparently, as I discovered my left arm was equally immobile. Both women were pressing back, mostly their heads and shoulders, preventing me from lifting my arms up. I decided another route was in order and quickly slid my arms down. Once my fingers got to their ribcages, I started tickling with my fingers. It turned out that, while both girls were ticklish, Marge was extremely so. Soon, I forgot about Rose and concentrated all of my efforts on Mrs. Caspar. Rose got up, freeing me to use both hands, and moved to the other side of Marge. Rose then assisted me with my onslaught of poor Marge. She was giggling and shrieking so hard that it was only a short while later that we had to stop to let the poor woman breathe properly. I do not think I had ever seen Marge as red as she was then. She was practically crimson from head to toe. Once she had got her labored breathing under control and wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, she confessed, "I don't remember the last time I laughed like that. Shit, I think I laughed so hard that I pissed my pants!" "Like daughter, like mother," Rose quickly said. That brought chuckles from both girls. Apparently, not only did my love confide her fear of 'peeing' when she had an orgasm to her friends, but to her mother, as well. I wondered to myself if, after last Saturday, it was going to become a two-way street: Marge telling (and showing) her daughter some sexual experiences. While I did not end up with the remote until the news of the tournament was over, the tickling was distracting enough that neither girl saw the results of the basho. Not only did I have the small victory of preventing them from finding out who won and lost, but also I learned one of Marge's weaknesses. I vowed to myself to utilize that knowledge in the near future. ------- We had a three-day weekend because of Martin Luther King's Day in the middle of January, so I decided to begin my training of Lori then. The Wednesday before that weekend, I decided to inform the girls that our usual Saturday lunch would have to be cancelled. "How about we have lunch at my house?" suggested Michelle. "Hey, that's a great idea. Your mom is a great cook," Pollyanna said. However, she quickly added, "But not as good as my Rose!" We all agreed with Pollyanna, even though I had not sampled any of Jean's cooking. From the playful way that Rose had elbowed her girlfriend, I knew Rose was not that offended by the comment. "I won't be able to attend, but is it okay if my mom stayed there after she brings Rose?" Traci asked. Michelle gave us a suspicious grin but said, "Sure, I don't see why not. Sounds like you guys just want to have the house to yourselves." "Baka, we're not going to be doing anything Hindu." "My love, the word is hentai. You'll need to learn the correct term, especially with our upcoming trip," I said to my girlfriend. Pollyanna said, "That's right! We can do some planning when we have lunch." "I'll give Rose my Lonely Planet travel guide to Japan, and she can take it with her on Saturday," I said. The rest of the lunchtime conversation revolved around that Saturday's lunch and our impending trip. Marge had talked about doing some shopping on that day, since she did not have to work. She had felt confident that I would treat her eldest daughter properly, but she did not think it was wise for her to be in the house for the actual event. I was glad that Traci had thought to ask if her mom could have lunch with the other girls on that day. ------- "Mom and Rose just left!" Traci said with enthusiasm as she entered the bedroom. I turned my chair away from the computer, where I had been selecting different anime torrents to download, and faced my excited girlfriend. I gave her a small smile and asked, "You do know that it is doubtful anything sexual will happen this afternoon, right?" "Yeah, I know, but Lori is going to be so happy." When I was slow at getting out of my chair, Traci came over and grabbed my arm. I quickly grabbed the bag of stuff that I would need with my free hand from off the desk. She practically dragged me down the hall to the living room. Once we reached there, she asked, "Can I go get Lori?" I was amused by the actions of my girlfriend. She had been very reluctant in allowing me to help Lori explore her sexuality, but now that Traci had made up her mind to allow me to proceed, she could not wait for me to start. Traci shifted weight from foot to foot while she waited for my answer. "Yes, BUT," I quickly added as Traci spun to head up the stairs, "try to act nonchalant about it." Traci paused a nanosecond to flash me a grin before she bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When she returned with her older sister in tow, though, she came down at a leisurely pace. Traci moved to sit beside me on the couch, while Lori went to one of the chairs. When she sat down she asked, "What's up Chad? Traci said you wanted to see me." I gave Lori a smile and said, "I thought perhaps we could start your training today." Lori gave me a surprised look, and then looked at her sister for confirmation. After seeing her sister nodding, she turned her attention to me and shakily asked, "Right now?" I gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Yes, if you're willing. However, there are some things we need to talk about before we begin. I know I have said it before, but it bears mentioning again: you are first and foremost my friend. I don't think of you as just my girlfriend's sister, or a convenient ride, but as one of my true friends. No matter what happens, I want you to remember that I will always consider you my friend, so long as you don't willingly do anything that hurts those that I care about." I waited until she nodded before I continued. "There are many levels that we can explore, but we will start off slow and delve into them one at a time. From the conversations that you and I have had, we know that you are a submissive. But is that just how you are now, or have you always been like this? I did not know you before you dated Vince, so I don't know if he knew that you were one, or if that night with him caused you to view the feeling of being helpless to be associated with sex. Your mom thinks that you were a submissive before then, but she is not one-hundred-percent sure, since she only knew a few subs in college. So we'll just have to be careful as we proceed." "You will have two personas: 'Lori' and 'Slave'. Most of the time you will be Lori, the same person that you have always been. When you are Slave, you will be subservient to your master or mistress. Currently, I will be the only permanent master that you have, and when you address me, you will call me 'Master'. In slave mode, the people in the house will no longer be considered your friends or family, but shall be addressed in relation to me. Traci will be referred to as 'Master's Girlfriend'. Rose shall be called 'Master's Maid'. Marge will be addressed as 'Master's Lover'." My last statement took Lori aback; a look of intense surprise appeared on her face. Apparently, her mom had not informed her of what had transpired the previous weekend. The elder Caspar daughter looked at the younger for confirmation. Traci had a 'shit-eating' grin on her face. "There will also be times when you will address Traci as 'Mistress'. You will treat her with the same respect and follow her orders as you would me. The only times that Traci will be considered your mistress is when I call her by that name -- or, occasionally, when we are in the Dungeon, and I will tell you beforehand." "What if she orders me when she is not my mistress?" asked Lori. I replied, "Slap her and call her a brat." I saw Traci bite her tongue, as she wanted to retort back. But one of the conditions for her being present as I briefed Lori was that she remained silent. Lori saw Traci's reaction, too, and gave her sister a soft smile. She then turned her attention back to me and asked, "Won't she just get even when she is my mistress?" I shook my head and said, "No. I'll be there to prevent that. Things that you do when you are Lori will not be punished, saved for a few select rules. I might as well give this to you now." I reached into the bag that I had brought with me and withdrew a notebook. I handed the notebook to Traci, and she in turn passed it over to her sister. "This will be your journal. Every day, you will write down your thoughts and feelings of being dominated in it, as well as any other activities you think your master deserves to know. You will also write down your punishments and the reasons why you received them. On the first page, I have taken the liberty to write down a list of rules, which you will need to memorize. As you can see, it is a small list, with room to add more. The ones I highlighted are ones that will always be in effect." "'Lori's safety and well-being comes first and foremost'," Lori said, reading off the first rule. "Yes. There might be times when you are Slave that could jeopardize Lori. Hmm, let me think of an example. Okay, Slave might reach the point where she could fuck the entire football team from the sheer naughtiness and stimulation it provides. Yet, if she did that, it would be very traumatic for Lori afterwards, both from the way the act itself would make you feel and from how your reputation would change." Lori observed, "So, in a way, I am two different people." "Yes," I said, nodding, "and it may come to the point where the two personas are merged, where Lori/Slave is one; but for now, it is best to think of yourself with two separate identities. That is why secrecy needs to be maintained. You have the power to end all of this at anytime and walk away. That is also why none of your punishments will leave any marks until at least summertime." "Why? Cheerleading will be ending in a few weeks, so nobody at school will be seeing me change." "What about Track?" I asked. "What about it?" "When I first met you, you mentioned the possibility going out for Track." "Yeah, but I thought that... ," Lori paused, quickly scanning the list of rules, then said, "'The slave shall expect and predict her master's needs and desires'. I would be more available to you if I didn't do track." "True, but what about rule nine?" I asked. As Lori read the rule about taking care of her body, I added, "Anyhow, rule number one preempts all other rules, and it was Lori who expressed her desire to try out for track. As her friend, I think it would be best that she try out for it." "But Lori thinks that she would find it more fulfilling to be at her master's beck and call as Slave." Lori frowned after she said that, then said, "I think what I just said makes sense. It is tough talking in the third person, especially when I'm talking about myself as two people." I smiled and said, "Yeah, unless you're a rapper or pro-wrestler. I say try out, and if you make the team, go for it," echoing the same words I had said to her sister a week earlier. Lori gave a big grin, since she had been present when Traci and I had our little row over her not wanting to try out for cheerleading. It had taken a few compromises but in the end, Traci agreed to give it a shot, and did land a spot on the Junior Varsity team. When the new semester started, she would have to attend either cheer practice or sporting events after school, and thought it was unfair she was not able to spend time with me. Perhaps that was what finally pushed her into letting me train Lori. I guessed Traci figured that if I were not spending my time with her, then her sister would be the next best thing. "What are 'Kegel' exercises?" Lori asked, coming across an unfamiliar term on her list of rules. "Ask your mom, she knows what they are," I answered, smiling at my first-hand experience with Marge's vaginal exercise training. "Oh, you will also need this," I said, taking out a very familiar object from my bag. I handed it to Traci to pass to her sister, but my girlfriend paused and began to take a closer look at the object. As her hand caressed it, recognition suddenly dawned on her face. She shot me a surprised look before handing it to her sister. Lori looked puzzled at her sister's reaction, and I did not help matters when I said, "You have seen it once before. Actually, it is a facsimile of what you saw." Lori's reaction mirrored her sisters' when she realized that the rubber dildo she was holding was a replica of my penis and scrotum. "You will start your training with that. For now, the only orifice that it may enter is your mouth. I may allow it to enter your vagina or anus, but only after the real one has explored that territory." The sexual flush that started once Lori understood that we would be discussing her dominance seemed to darken when I mentioned the limits on 'exploring those territories.' Lori's sister looked like she was slightly jealous of her sibling's newest possession. I had no idea why, since she 'owned' the original, and unlike the replica, it did not cost $70. Then again, unlike the replica, I did not have unlimited lasting power. "I know we are jumping around a bit, but you will memorize the rules so that you can repeat them on command. Let's see. Oh, yeah, back to secrecy. Only us three and Marge know about the conversation we're having today. I wouldn't be surprised if Rose knew, since she knows more about what goes on around here than I do, but we didn't tell her about it. It is up to you to decide if you want to take on the Slave persona around her, or around Pollyanna and Michelle." "I can trust those three," replied Lori. Nodding, I said, "Yes, but do you think you can be Slave around them?" Lori said, "I can try." "Okay. Also, I might slip into Master persona and order you in front of strangers. I would only do so if I thought that it would not harm you, as in, get back to any of your friends. If you think that it might violate rule number one, say your safety word. Have you picked out one yet?" Lori immediately replied, "'Under the Cherry Moon'." I smiled at my friend (and soon to be slave). She knew that Prince was my favorite musical artist. She based her decision on a safety phrase with something that I enjoyed. "What about a warning word or phrase?" "Warning?" "Think of the safety phrase as a red light. The warning word or phrase is a yellow, meaning caution, slow down, back off. If I was spanking you, and you thought it was too hard, you would utter the warning and I would continue spanking, but I would do so with less strength. Make sense?" Lori nodded, and sat back in the chair in thought. After a little bit, she said, "'Purple Rain' will be my warning phrase." My smile turned into a grin. That changed, however, as I noticed her frown at something on the list. "What's wrong?" I asked. She looked up and asked, "Shouldn't number four be highlighted?" I took out the highlighter from the bag and tossed it to her. She caught it and raised an eyebrow. "If you want it to be in effect all of the time, we can do that. I thought we might need to progress to that point, but if you think you can handle it right off the bat, I say go for it." "Wha..." Traci quickly caught herself and did not even complete the first syllable of the question she was going to ask. My girlfriend had behaved herself very well, so I thought I would reward her by filling in her curiosity. "Rule four states that she is unable to pleasure herself. If she seeks sexual relief, she must seek me out and ask for it. I will either satisfy her or give her permission to masturbate." I could see the wheels turning in Traci's head as she thought about the implications of that rule. While I was judging my love's reaction, I noticed Lori highlight the rule. Lori read through the list a couple of times before asking her next question, "It doesn't mention the Dungeon on here?" "Nope. The Dungeon is still incomplete. I might have it ready by the middle of next month, if I am able to get the rest of the supplies I need. I need to install the soundproofing so that my slave's cries of torture do not disturb the house." Traci looked aghast, but Lori chuckled at my joke. When her sister stared at her in disbelief, Lori explained, "Chad's joking, Traci. He would never cause me bodily harm. If anything, I might be the one that pushes him to go further with any punishment. Remember, he won't do anything to me that I don't want done. It might be painful at the moment, but if all works right, it should be incredibly exciting. Right, Chad?" I nodded and added, "If you want to take a look at it now, as Lori, we can do it, but once we start your training, you will not set foot in there unless you are Slave. If you utter your safety phrase, we cease what we are doing, but you will remain in slave mode, until you are out of there. That is, unless you are unconscious, in which case you won't have to utter the phrase." Traci gave me a dubious look, which I returned with a smile. "I doubt my slave and I would reach that phase anytime soon, if ever. As I said before, there are many dimensions to BDSM. Lori and I will start off exploring the dom/sub stuff first, maybe with a little bondage tied in." Traci rolled her eyes at my pun, but remained silent. Lori had picked up on Traci's lack of vocalizing her thoughts and decided to bait her sister a little bit more. "Yeah, wait until he brands me with hot irons. I don't think any soundproofing will dampen my screams of pain." Lori's smile had given herself away, so Traci remained tightlipped. "Let's step back into reality now. Is there anything else you have questions about?" "Am I allowed to initialize my slave persona?" I had to think about that for a moment before I replied, "Yes, you may. You can either do it by addressing me as Master, or by assuming one of your positions." "And those are?" "I will show you once we start your training," I answered with a smile. I added, "Also, if I do not want you in your slave persona, or if I want to give you a coded warning when you are Lori, I shall say 'Graffiti Bridge'." "Final question. Can I start now?" Lori directed it to her sister. I also looked at Traci. Traci looked back and forth between Lori and me before slowly nodding her head. "Slave, stand up!" ------- Chapter 21 "Slave, stand up," I commanded, my tone changing to master mode. Even with the knowledge that it was coming, both Traci and my slave (she was no longer Lori) were surprised. My slave only hesitated for an instant before jumping to her feet, however. I went over to my slave and guided her away from the chair that Lori had been sitting in, moving her closer to the middle of the room. I positioned my slave so that she was facing her sister. I looked over at Traci for confirmation one last time before I moved behind my slave. Grabbing the hem of her tee shirt I slowly lifted it up. My slave instinctually lifted her arms, allowing me to remove the garment. I tossed the shirt aside and moved my hands my slave's hips. I guided her sweatpants down, and again she stepped out of them without having to be told. I tossed the sweatpants next to the discarded shirt. "Turn around, Slave." My slave turned around slowly, only clad in her bra and panties. She had her arms at her side and tried to keep her focus straight ahead. Once she completed a full circle and was facing Traci again, I reached out and deftly undid her bra. "I do not want you to be wearing underwear when you are at home, Slave. I would prefer it if you did not wear a bra when you went out in public either, since there have been a few studies that show a link between wearing one and breast cancer. If you need one, like an athletic one for track or because the outfit you chose to wear requires one, then you will seek permission from me first. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master," the excitement in my slave's voice was hardly contained, as she spoke for the very first time in her new persona. "Remove your panties." My slave was quick to comply with my command. When she bent down while removing the undergarment, I allowed my hands to gently caress her ass. She flinched slightly with the unexpected contact, but completed her task. When she stood, she held her panties in her right hand. I looked over to my girlfriend who was sitting on the couch. I could see signs of her sexual flush, and I did not think it was from seeing her sister naked. I doubted it was even from the Master persona that I took on. Instead, I suspect it was from witnessing something that seemed forbidden, like the encounter I had with her mother a few days prior. I reached out and collected the damp panties from my slave. I kept my eyes on my girlfriend as I lifted them up to my nostrils and inhaled the sexual scent that the panties had absorbed. "You smell more like Marge than Traci," I observed. The flush that Traci had deepened with that comment, so I added, "I shall compare your taste to theirs later." I slowly walked around my slave, giving her an appraising eye. While Marge and my slave shared the same cup size, both Traci and my slave shared the same type of nipples: areolas about the size of a quarter, with eraser-like tips. "As you read in the rules, you shall seek permission from me first before altering any part of your body. You shall continue to trim your pubic hair along your bikini line for the rest of the school year. Once you graduate, we shall shave you like your mother -- only instead of thin strip in the front, like she has, we shall shave it in the form of the letter 'C'. Also, I don't think it will cause a ruckus at school if you stopped shaving under your armpits. If it does, you will inform me at once, and we shall proceed from there." "Yes, Master." "Since you are standing, I shall show you the second position. Lori took Dance last year, so it will be easy to remember. It is the same as second position in modern dance: feet parallel to each other and under the shoulders, hips tucked in, chest thrust out, and your hands behind your back. You will look at the ground unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand, Slave?" "Yes, Master." "First position -- the most common position you will be in -- is just like second one, but instead of standing, you will be on your knees, with your ass pressed against your ankles. Third position is also on your knees, but with your knees spread, your butt raised in the air, and your forearms and head pressed against the ground. We will use these three positions for now and, in time, I might add more. Do you have any questions?" "No, Master." "Good, in that case, why don't you assume first position?" I asked casually. I had thought that the ease I had used to issue my command might have confused her, but I was wrong. She quickly sank to her knees and took the position I had described. While she had her gazed fixed on the floor in front of her, I went over to my bag and withdrew the last couple of items I had in there. The blindfold I used on my slave was black and had a silky texture to it. After I made sure it was secured, I retrieved my slave's dildo from the chair that she had left it on. "Slave, can you see anything?" I asked. "No, Master," Slave replied. "Hold out your hands," I instructed my slave, and when she brought her hands from around her back, I placed the rubber phallus in them. "You will learn to recognize every groove, ridge, and vein of that. You will picture in your mind what you are feeling. In the future, when you are servicing the real thing, you will know your way around it. Now, I am about to put on some headphones on you so that you won't be able to hear any commands. If I want you to change positions, I will tap your left shoulder; the number of taps meaning what position I want you in. Also, I'm going to be inviting some friends over, so don't be surprised when you feel more than a couple sets of hands on you." Slave remained silent as I slipped the noise-cancellation headphones on her. I had already calibrated the portable CD player so that the volume would be loud enough to mask any outside noise, but low enough that it would not be painful. That is, the volume would not be painful, but Slave might find the actual music hard to bear. A slight shudder of discomfort passed through Slave's body when she heard the song start. She had instantly recognized it and had started to say her safety phrase, but quickly stopped herself. She held her tongue and settled herself for the long haul. She might be singing a different tune when she realized that the song was on continuous loop. With my slave taken care of, I slipped out of the master persona. I gave Traci a warm smile, hoping she could tell I was back to being Chad, her boyfriend. She did detect the difference and asked, "What is Lor... I mean, Slave... listening to?" I decided to answer her question by singing her the first line, "Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want." Traci gasped and exclaimed, "How in hell did you find that CD! I thought I hid it where you couldn't find it!" My smile turned into a grin as I asked, "Love, don't you know I know how your devious little brain works and figured out where you would hide it?" Actually, I'd had no idea where she had hid the Spice Girl's CD. The whole household had grown tired of me listening to it, especially since I would just play the first song, Wannabe, repeatedly. I was not too surprised to discover the CD missing from its jewel case one day, and nobody would tell me where it was. Even Rose had remained steadfast in her denial of knowing where the CD was. It was when I played my trump card, telling the redhead that I would just have to buy another copy, that she relented and gave me a hint. I guess that the thought of me having to waste money buying a duplicate was too much for the fiscally conservative girl. I found the wayward disc underneath Marge's Stryper CD. I wondered if somebody had given Marge the CD as a gag gift, since it did not fit among her other compact discs. While Traci sat there trying to figure out how I could have figured out where the CD was, I moved to the sofa and sat down next to her. I reached out and placed my hand on her knee. "Do you have any questions?" I knew I was opening up a whole can of worms by asking her that. Throughout the whole conversation I had had with Lori, Traci had been chomping at the bit, dying to say stuff. She thought for a moment before asking, "Are you really going to have your friends come over?" I shook my head and explained, "No, I'd just wanted that to be in her mind so that when she feels people touching her, she won't have a clue as to who it might be." Traci grew silent and stared at her naked sister. She seemed lost in thought for a few minutes, and then she turned back to me. With concern in her voice, she asked, "Is there something wrong with me? How come I'm getting so turned on? I mean, it happened before when you and Mom were doing it. Now, I'm getting excited watching you control my sister." I gave my girlfriend a reassuring smile and tried to explain the best I could. "I don't think there is anything wrong with you. You just find watching something so forbidden erotic. It's like some of those online stories I showed you. Some adults get off on reading about sex with children. It doesn't make them pedophiles just because they read about it. Same with incest; since it is the forbidden fruit, it makes it all the sweeter. The more we're told something is wrong, the more exciting it makes it when we witness it. Tell me, do you want to have sex with a girl?" "No!" Traci vehemently said. "But have you ever fantasized about it? Maybe wondered what it feels like for another woman's lips to softly graze your inner thighs, what the texture of a pussy is like to your tongue?" Traci sheepishly admitted, "Yeah, I guess I have." "Just because you thought about it doesn't make you a lesbian or bisexual. It's the same thing with watching me with your mother and sister. I'm guessing that it could have been anybody, and you would have found the situation erotic. Heck, the porn industry makes billions a year because people like watching other people have sex." "Would you enjoy watching me have sex with somebody else?" I thought for a moment before giving Traci her answer. "Only if I thought that you were getting pleasure out of it. Even then, I think I could handle it better if it was you and another girl, and not a guy. I know it shouldn't make a difference, but I think deep down in my primal core, I would be jealous. What about you, did it upset you when you watched your mom and I have sex last week?" "No, I mean, well, just a tiny bit. I think since it was my idea, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I guess since I knew that you wouldn't leave me for her helped. Speaking of which, did you mean what you said, about marrying Mom if she got pregnant?" "If she wanted to keep the baby, then yes, I would. I guess I'm old-fashioned, thinking that children should not be born out of wedlock. You would still be the number one girl in my life, just that you would also be my stepdaughter." I added with a grin, "We'd most likely have to move to the Ozarks if that happened." "So if I were to become pregnant-" I cut her off, not liking where she was headed. "I think it would be unwise since you're still young. It would mean having to drop out of school to raise the kid. Traci, you need to know that I love you with all my heart, and that you possess my body and soul forever -- or until the time you realize that I'm no good for you. If you truly think that being married is something that you need, then we can do it, but only after you finish high school." Traci nodded, but I had to be sure, so I asked, "Am I going to have to start to wear a condom when we have sex?" Chuckling, Traci replied, "No, I'll stay on the pill. If I do get pregnant, it will be because the pill failed, and not from me not taking them." I subconsciously glanced over at the fertility statue to make sure it was still facing west. I trusted my girlfriend completely, but thought it to be best to check her birth-control pill case in the future, just in case she accidentally forgot to take them. I started to contemplate about getting a vasectomy, just to be on the safe side, when I heard Slave gag. I quickly turned my attention to her. It appeared that Slave had tried to deepthroat the dildo. She coughed a couple of times, but after she had recovered, she started back up. Traci watched her for a little bit before turning to me and said, "Damn, she is making me rather randy. Let's go back to our bedroom and fuck." I grinned at her and said, "Why go to the bedroom? We might as well go at it here." "What, in front of Lori?" "Slave," I corrected Traci, "and it is not like she can see or hear us." A grin broke across Traci's face as she said, "Okay, stand up and go next to her. I want to do the exact same thing as she is doing to the dildo." I removed my pants and moved into the position Traci indicated. Traci sank to her knees in front of me and started to mimic the oral ministrations that Slave was performing on my rubber clone. The only difference between what Slave and Traci were doing was that my girlfriend could deepthroat me, whereas Slave could only get the dildo partway down her throat before gagging on it. Then again, Traci had lots more experience with my cock than Slave. I was getting close to my orgasm when Traci stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. "When you cum, cum on Slave," she said. She waited for an answer before resuming what she had been doing. It is always difficult to think straight when on the verge of cumming. Perhaps it was due to the blood being drained from my brain and relocated to another part of my anatomy that caused me to let out an affirmative grunt. I let out an appreciative moan when Traci started back up, and it was less than a minute later that I had to push her away, signaling that I was about to release my load. I turned my body towards Slave just in time as the first blast let loose from my cock. It hit Slave right on her right cheek, causing her head to turn slightly. It was not from the velocity (granted, to me, it felt like the sperm was shooting out of my tubes at a hundred miles an hour) that caused the reaction, but from the sudden sensation of the warm fluid touching her. My next couple of blasts landed on Slave's chest, and I moved closer to her, milking the remaining cum onto her body. Slave remained frozen from when the first blast of cum had touched her. She lowered her arms to her side, her left hand still firmly grasping the dildo. She only flinched a little bit when she felt Traci gather some of my seed on her finger. Traci waggled her cum-coated digit under Slave's nose for a couple of seconds before lowering it to her mouth. When Traci lightly pressed the finger against Slave's lips, Slave tentatively stuck out her tongue and tasted the semen. Part of me wished that Slave was not wearing the blindfold so I could gage her reaction in her eyes, but from the way that she opened her mouth and accepted the finger told me that she did not find the taste repugnant. Perhaps it was from all the practice on the dildo that led Slave to practically give Traci's finger a blowjob. Slave actually leaned forward, trying to keep the finger in her mouth as Traci pulled it away. I was slightly taken by surprised when my girlfriend leaned in and began to lick the cum off Slave's chest. Slave dropped the dildo and started to reach out to locate her unseen patron. I quickly moved behind Slave and grabbed her wrists, preventing her from finding out who it might be. As soon as Slave felt my grip, she relaxed her muscles, understanding that her master did not want her to know. When I released her, she kept her hands obediently at her sides. I moved back around to watch Traci finish cleaning Slave. A rather large drop of my cum had landed on Slave's right thigh, pretty close to her pussy. Traci was rather hesitant about getting too close to another girl's sex. She solved the problem by collecting the cum on her fingers. Traci then brought cum up to Slave's face and smeared it on her upper lip and nose. Slave tried to lick the cum the best she could off of her upper lip, but Traci had made sure to rub some of it out of the range of Slave's tongue. "I want her to have to smell you for as long as she is in that position," explained Traci as she stood up and began to undress. "Jesus, I am so close to cumming," she added. Traci had to settle for my tongue for her first two orgasms. For the briefest of moments, I thought about using Slave's dildo to bring my girlfriend off and then returning it to Slave to clean, but I knew that it was better to wait until both girls were ready for something like that. When I was hard, I did what Traci wanted and fucked her to her third orgasm. Traci was on her back next to Slave while I pounded into my girlfriend's pussy. It was after the first few thrusts that Traci reached out and grabbed Slave's left knee. I noticed that she began to squeeze the knee every time I plunged into her. The scream that Traci let out when she came as I fucked her was so loud, that there was very little doubt in my mind that Slave had heard it. The volume on the CD player was set to block out normal noise, not the wails of a banshee. When I finally reached my orgasm, it was inside of Traci. I partially collapsed on top of my lover, keeping some of my weight on my arms so that I did not crush her. I glanced over at Slave's parted thighs and saw that her sex was rather moist and that some of her secretions had actually started to run down her inner thigh. Traci followed my gaze and started to giggle. I turned my attention back to my girlfriend and gave her a peck on the cheek. "You hungry?" I asked her. "Starvin' Marvin," she replied. I pulled out my spent cock that was still nestled in her succulent sex and got up. I headed to the kitchen without bothering to put on my clothes. A moment later, Traci followed me in, also sans clothing. "This is weird, walking around the house without wearing anything." I gave Traci a grin and said, "Hey, I used to walk around naked all the time before you and Rose moved in. Now, what do you think about a couple of peanut butter and jam sandwiches to hold us over until supper tonight?" Traci agreed and helped me make the sandwiches. She gave me a puzzled look when I got out three glasses and a straw for one of them; it took her a moment before she realized that Slave would be hungry, as well. After we finished our snack at the breakfast nook, I carried out a plate with a couple of sandwiches and a glass of soymilk for Slave. Traci was insistent that she be the one to feed my slave, so I let her. She actually did a good job of alternating between offering the sandwich and the soymilk to Slave. When a drop of jam fell onto Slave's left breast, I inquired, "Aren't you going to lick that off?" Traci shot me an incredulous stare and stated, "Jam from a sandwich is different than cum from MY cock. I can wipe up jam with a washcloth, but I'll be damned if I am going to let your cum go to waste." "Oh? And where was that attitude when I shot a load of cum in your mom's ass?" "Ick! You know, you can be a real sicko sometimes. I don't know how I put up with you," Traci said with a grin. "Hell, with as much teasing I do, I'm sure you will be elevated to sainthood after you die," I said with a chuckle. "Master?" Traci and I turned to Slave in surprise. She had spoken so softly that it was a wonder that either of us had heard her. I took in a deep breath and when I exhaled, I slipped into 'Master' mode. "Yes, Slave?" I asked after I had removed the headphones off Slave's head. Slave was quiet for a moment and then timidly stated, "I need to pee, Master." Slave could not see the smile I gave her while I debated my options. It seemed a tad premature to break her slave routine for a bathroom break. I had yet to acquire a bedpan (something I was sure that Marge could pick up at work) and, even if I did have one, I was not that comfortable with her using it on the living room carpet. In addition, I still needed Lori's views on watersports and scat before subjecting them to Slave. Urolagnia was not my cup of tea, so it seemed best to allow Slave to use the bathroom. I said, "Second position." Slave quickly moved to her feet, only to falter slightly. I started to reach out to her, but she regained her balance and stood up straight. "Are you okay?" I asked, masking the concern I felt in my voice. "Yes, Master. My legs were just a bit numb is all, Master." Catching myself nodding, I rolled my eyes when I realized that Slave could not see me. I glanced over at Traci, tilted my head towards my slave, and then tilted my head towards the half-bath, the closest bathroom to the living room. It took Traci a few seconds to realize what I was trying to silently inquire. She quickly shook her head when she understood that I was asking if she wanted to help Slave use the toilet. I gave Traci an understanding smile. It had taken a great deal of effort on her part to allow me urinate in front of her, so asking her to help my slave was a tad too much. "Hold out your left arm," I said. I was able to suppress a giggle when Traci started to lift up her arm. Perhaps it was because I was looking directly at Traci when I said it. Traci stuck out her tongue at me after she lowered her arm. I blew her a silent kiss and turned my attention to my slave. She had her left arm outstretched while her right hand clutched the dildo that I had given her. She released her grip on my plastic double when she felt me gently pulling on it. When I caught my girlfriend eyeing it after I placed it on the coffee table, I said, "Remember, that belongs to Slave. I seem to recall somebody not being too happy when I used their property on their mother a week ago." A slight gasp escaped from Slave at that revelation. Traci, on the other hand, rolled her eyes, flipped me the bird, and mouthed, 'Fuck you.' "Maybe after I get back," I said, which must have confused my slave. Traci gave me a grin while I placed Slave's hand on my shoulder. Getting to the bathroom was not difficult; trying to maneuver Slave around with the briefest amount of contact, that was hard. Once I got her situated on the toilet, I closed the bathroom door. "Chad?" Slave timidly asked. "Chad's not here," I reminded my slave. Slave recoiled slightly at the sound of my voice. She then asked, "Am I alone, Master?" As soon as she let the words out of her mouth, she realized what she had asked. I could almost picture her rolling her eyes behind the mask when she said, "Never mind, that's a dumb question." After a few heartbeats, she quickly added, "Master," after she realized her omission. Since I had neglected to get the information before beginning the training, I asked, "Do you need me to leave?" After a moments thought, Slave answered, "No, I think I can handle peeing while you are here, Master." My slave seemed to have some trouble starting, so I turned on the faucet. It seemed that the sound of the running water helped, and she let loose her bladder. Once she finished her tinkle, she reached around until she found the roll of toilet paper. She wiped away any traces of urine from her pussy and stood up. After she flushed the toilet, she was unsure what to do, so I moved over to her and guided her to the sink. While the water had been running, I had adjusted it so it was at a comfortable temperature. When she completed washing her hands, I took a wet washcloth and wiped away the drop of strawberry preserve from her left breast. "There," I announced, "You look so much better covered with a stranger's cum. That jam was bugging me." A shudder passed through Slave's body as she realized that the essence that coated her skin might not be from me. She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps to utter her safety phrase, but then quickly closed her lips. I turned off the faucet and led her back to the living room. When I reentered the room, I glanced at the dildo to make sure it was where I had left it. Finding it not disturbed, I picked it up and gave it a quick whiff. Traci let out a small snort at my antics, to which I replied with a wink. Slave settled back down into first position; I started to give the plastic cock back to her when I noticed Traci franticly shaking her head. I stopped what I was doing and placed the headphones over Slave's head instead. Slave let out a small groan when she once again heard Wannabe. After making sure that the headphones were securely in place, I moved over to sit next to my girlfriend. "I have a wicked idea," my girlfriend said. As my girlfriend unfolded her plan, I could not stop the frown that crept across my face. In her excitement, Traci did not notice it until she had just about finished explaining her idea. "What's wrong?" she asked. I gave Traci a weak smile and said, "While your plan does have some merit, I have a few problems with it. One thing that comes to mind is that, after cumming twice today, I doubt I could 'blast my load' all over her again. It's more likely I would dribble a few spurts. Another is that, while taking a few pictures or videotaping Slave might seem like a good idea, in the end it is risky. The chances of other people seeing them increase the longer they exist. Even taking extreme precautions -- using a dedicated memory card to store them, only accessing them on a computer that wasn't hooked up to the net, securing the card in a safe place -- there is no way to be sure that they won't fall into the wrong hands. Finally, I want to slowly progress with my slave. Intriguing as it might be, to have her licking the dildo only to have the 'real thing' suddenly appear at her mouth, I think it is a tad too soon for it. Hell, I'm kicking myself for lacking self-control when I came on her earlier." "Why? I think she would be totally turned on with my plan." One of the traits that I loved about Traci was that, once she had overcome her hesitations or fears of something, she embraced it full force. Her gung-ho attitude was something to be admired, but it was best to put it in another perspective. "Okay, let's try this. Remember the first night we made out on this couch? What if while we were kissing, I suddenly tore off all your clothes and fucked you?" I saw a gleam in Traci's eye and she quickly said, "I would have loved it!" I gave Traci a dubious look and held it until she finally admitted, "Okay, okay, it would have freaked me out. Still, I think I would have liked it." I shook my head and said, "I somehow doubt it. I think that the fact that we slowly worked our way up to making love through our courtship made the time that we finally did all the more enjoyable. Actually, it might have been too enjoyable; I am starting to wonder if I created a nymphomaniac." Traci let out a small snort and said, "Yeah, that's me, Traci Caspar, the nympho. I'm not the one going around nailing my boyfriend's mom and sister." I shrugged and said, "Who knows? Maybe you will after you meet them." Traci gave me a playful shove and then asked where I was going when I stood up. "I thought about going outside to smoke one of the cigarettes I earned today." Giving me a look of surprise, she stated the obvious, "You're naked." "So what? Your house is still empty, while the other house next-door is a single-story and we have a pretty high fence between us. Besides, even if somebody could see me, I wouldn't care." Great care should be taken when smoking in the buff. Besides the hazards of falling bits clumps of ash from off the tip, there are also the possible sparks the slightest stirring can send flying in random directions. Not to mention keeping track of still-hot matches or lighters. Still, I was an old hand at this endeavor, so I simply stepped out and only spent a quick second judging the breeze before lighting up and finding a spot to relax at. Traci timidly came out to join me after I had lit up. As soon as she stepped into the backyard, her head was almost in constant motion, scanning back and forth, making sure that nobody could see her. She relaxed slightly when she sat down next to me in one of the plastic chairs. I had smoked about half my cigarette when I suggested that she might want to give swimming naked a try. The words had hardly left my mouth before she jumped up and dashed to the pool. I let out a chuckle when she quickly dove in. She must have figured that the water afforded her a little bit of decency. Snuffing out my cigarette, I had a decision to make. I could either join Traci in the pool or head back inside to monitor my slave. While I would never leave a restrained person unattended, I figured since the 'restraints' that Slave was in were purely psychological, it would be okay. I still ended up heading back into the living room to quickly check up on Slave. She was still obediently holding first position. I tapped her lightly on the shoulder three times; it took her a second to remember what third position was. As soon as she raised her gorgeous ass in the air and pressed her forehead to the ground, I tapped her once on the shoulder to have her resume first position. I then retrieved the dildo that I had left on the sofa and pressed it to her right hand. When her fingers wrapped around it, I let go of it and headed back out to the pool. ------- Chapter 22 Swimming outside in January was the nail in the coffin; I swore that I would always live in a climate like the one that Central City possessed. Traci and I frolicked around in the pool, and after a short stretch, we ended up in a make-out session. It started to get pretty heated when Traci wrapped her fingers around my hardened member. "I think I am starting to like the idea of skinny-dipping," Traci said with an impish grin. I brushed my thumb over her nipple and nodded in agreement. We resumed our kissing but quickly broke it when we heard the sound of a throat being cleared. Traci and I quickly looked up to see Rose standing above us. "Mrs. Caspar sent me out to find you guys. She wants to know why her oldest daughter is all alone in the living room." The grin on Rose's face grew when she saw me abort my plan of lifting myself out of the pool and, instead, swam to the ladder. I had placed my hands on the edge of the pool and was about to heft myself out when I realized that in my current condition, it would be rather difficult (if not painful). However, it made me somewhat of a spectacle as I emerged from the water, and Rose gave me an appraising look before she turned her attention back to my girlfriend. Traci had pressed herself against the wall and was going to extricate herself in the same matter that I had originally planned (a trait that we had picked up during water polo), but stopped herself when she saw Rose looking at her. "Could you please turn around?" asked my girlfriend. "Why? We've been naked in front of each other before." "That was before I knew that you liked girls," pointed out Traci. Rose shrugged and said, "I know how to get you out of the water." She then walked over to me and sank down to her knees in front of me. I had been wiping the excess water off my body, since I had neglected bringing out any towels, but the sight of Rose positioning herself to give me a blowjob froze me. Traci, on the other hand, did not suffer from paralyzation as I did. She was out of the pool in a flash and playfully shoved Rose aside. "Bitch, I should have called your bluff," Traci said, with a trace of humor in her voice. Rose just grinned up at Traci and replied, "If you did, I wouldn't be enjoying the wonderful view right now." Traci, who was practically towering over her friend with her hands on her hips and her feet spread apart, realized that Rose had an unobstructed view of her pussy. Modesty caused her to quickly bring her right hand down to cover her sex while her left arm covered her breasts. "Hentai," she called the redhead as she dashed into the house. I helped Rose to her feet and said, "I thought you girls were going shopping after lunch." "Yeah, that was the plan, until Mrs. Weller got a call on her cell phone. Some relatives were stopping by her house, so she and Michelle had to return home. After we dropped off Polly, Mrs. Caspar called, but when she didn't get an answer, she assumed that the three of you were out so it was safe to return." After I had removed a majority of the water off my body, Rose and I headed back into the house. Marge did not seem too surprised to see me naked; perhaps the fact that both her daughters were also in that situation had given her a heads-up. She gave me a bemused look and said, "It appears that the three of you have been busy." I gave her a sheepish smile and said, "I guess I had better introduce you and Rose to Slave." Marge raised an eyebrow, so I explained, "I think, at least for now, that it would be best for Lori to have two different personas: herself and Slave. Maybe in time it might progress to the point where the personalities integrate. By the way, do you think that Slave noticed the two of you coming in?" Marge shrugged and said, "I doubt it. She's just been sitting there, playing with that..." Marge's voice trailed off as she did a quick double-take between the dildo that Slave had and my member. When she realized that the plastic cock was a replica of my own, she exclaimed, "Damn! Where in the hell did you get that made?" My erection had died down somewhat, but it was still stiff enough to make the comparison easy enough. "I bought a mail-order kit," I explained. Marge wistfully inquired, "Think you could order another one? I wouldn't mind having one of those." My surprise at Marge's revelation in front of Rose was quickly trumped by my shock at Rose saying, "Yeah, me too." "Me three," added Traci, returning from the master bedroom wearing a long-sleeve sweatshirt and sweatpants. I guessed that her earlier embarrassment of being caught nude had caused her to overcompensate so that the least amount of skin was now visible. I donned the yukata (summer cotton kimono) that Traci had brought out for me as a way of avoiding their requests. I thought that a change of conversation topics was in order, so asked, "You all want to help me with something?" The dubious looks I received led me to spell out my plan. "I had mentioned to my slave that I was going to have some friends come over. Having more than two sets of hands touching her would sell that idea. All that I ask is that you refrain from touching her sex." I had not looked at anyone in particular when I said that last comment. It was more like I was unsure which person I needed to warn the most. The smiles on all three ladies faces told me that they agreed with my idea. When we all had settled around Slave, Marge said, "I sure hope that CAME from you." My gaze followed from where she was pointing to some dried semen in Slave's hair. I let out a theatrical groan and said, "I'm sure Traci will fill the two of you in on what happened earlier." Rose and Marge shifted their attention to a grinning Traci before returning it to my slave. Since I was closest to the coffee table, I reached out and retrieved the dildo from Slave. It was a far stretch, but I was able to put my replica on the table. Slave had returned her arms to her side when she relinquished her grip on the dildo and was patiently holding her position. I started out first by reaching out and running my hands along her left arm. Traci followed suit by caressing her right arm. Slave had flinched slightly with my initial contact, but had settled down and did not react when she felt Traci hands. However, Slave did react when Rose's hands began to run along her back, and Slave was trembling with excitement when Marge ran her fingertips along my slave's taut stomach. A slight gasp escaped from Slave's lips when Marge's fingers brushed across Slave's erect nipples. Rose lifted the headphone off Slave's left ear and the redhead gave me a knowing grin when she heard the song that Slave was being subjected to. Rose then leaned in and ran her tongue along Slave's earlobe. I was momentarily transported to the night Rose was kicked out of her house when she mimicked Fran's giggle into my slave's ear. I was unsure if Lori had ever been present when Fran giggled, but the reaction from Slave told me that she knew the giggle did not belong to any of her housemates. When the headphone was placed back over the ear, I asked Marge to move back a little. I tapped my slave on the shoulder three times and Slave assumed third position. This drew a couple of 'ohhs' from the two women who had not witnessed it before. Marge asked, "Does she know any other positions?" "Well, there is second position, but her headphones need to be removed before she can get to her feet. I'll be... hey! Not too hard, now." Rose gave me a sheepish grin as she removed her hand from my slave's ass. The spank that she had given Slave was not particularly hard; more that the sound had interrupted what I had been saying. I noticed that, when Rose spanked Slave's other buttock, it was a lot softer. "Wow, Chad, she is really turned on," observed Rose. With the view that Rose had, she could easily tell how excited my slave was. After a few more caresses from us (and a couple of spanks from Rose) we all withdrew our hands. I tapped Slave once on the shoulder, and she returned to her kneeling position. Marge asked me, "How far did you want to carry the charade?" "Hmm. How about keeping Slave in this position for say, twenty minutes? Then I'll remove the headphones and inform her that the two of you are on your way home. I'll give her the option of either staying in slave mode or returning to Lori. You two can arrive in about ten minutes after that." "Remind me to stay on your good side, Chad. I would hate to ever be on your bad one," Marge said with a grin. I chuckled and could not stop my face from lighting up when another idea popped into my head. "You could always run down to the AM/PM and buy me a carton of Camel Wides," I suggested. I was running dangerously low on the coffin nails, but any chances of Marge buying me cigarettes were nixed from the growl that emitted from my love. I batted my eyelashes at Traci and meekly asked, "A pack?" I did not need a verbal answer; the look that she gave me told me I had a better chance of having a date alone with Fran than having her mom buying me smokes. After the ladies finished preparing to go back out and had made sure nothing stood out to give their earlier arrival away, I tried pressing my luck one more time when Rose and Marge were leaving the house. Rose had already gone outside, and I caught Marge in the foyer. Traci had not strayed far, perhaps knowing me all too well. "Psst. If you bring me back some cigarettes, I'll order another dildo-making kit," I said to Marge in a stage whisper. Marge chuckled and, after glancing at her youngest daughter, replied, "Tempting as that might be, I think I had better not. I think I would prefer the real thing -- and I don't want to piss off your 'pimp'." Pouting was rather difficult since I was also suppressing a chuckle at the notion of Traci being my 'pimp'. Marge saw my reaction and added, "It will be a while until I am safely on the pill, but I still have the tube of Anal-Eze that you left in my room." I gave up my pout and let myself chuckle. I drew closer to Marge and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Drive safely, and we'll see you in about ten minutes." Marge glanced at her watch, nodded, and left the house. Traci and I returned to the living room as we heard Marge pull out of the driveway. I waited until I could not hear the car anymore and then removed the headphones off Slave. "Slave, my lover just called and told me that she and my maid will be returning. You have a decision to make: do you stay as you are and have them see you in this state, or do you become Lori?" Slave began to tremble after I finished giving her the two options. Hearing that Marge and Rose were returning only confused Slave, making her uncertain whose hands had been on her. After she found her voice, Slave stated in a soft whisper, "I'll stay as I am, Master." I caught myself nodding at her again and slapped my forehead at my foolishness. After I removed her blindfold, I tilted her head up so that she could see me nod. I asked her, "Is there anything you need?" I had been thinking more along the lines of getting her a drink or letting her use the bathroom, so I was caught off guard when, after a moment's hesitation, she said meekly, "I need to cum. Can I cum, Master?" It took me a moment to ponder her request. Slave had behaved far beyond my expectations and, throughout the session, had been extremely horny. I had planned to let her have a couple of orgasms at the end of the day, but I decided to be flexible. I let a wicked grin cross my face and asked, "Okay, but once you start you'll have to continue until you climax." Slave noticed my reaction and hesitated for a few seconds before nodding. "I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked sternly. The sexual flush that Slave had paled slightly when she realized her error, and she hurriedly answered, "I understand, Master." "Fine. Now, how do you usually masturbate?" With her mistake fresh in her mind, she did not hesitate for a second and answered immediately, "I use my right hand to rub my clit, and play with my nipples with my left, Master." I told Slave, "Fine. Then, switch hands: use your left on your clit, and your right on your breasts." Slave brought her left hand up to her mouth and moistened her fingers. While she lowered her now-wet digits to her sex, she glanced at her sister watching her. Slave started to close her eyelids when her fingers made contact with her pussy. I commanded my slave, "Keep your eyes open and locked with mine." Slave's hands stopped for a second, but continued their manipulations once our eyes met. It was an ongoing struggle for Slave to keep her eyes fixed with mine as her instinct told her to close her eyes or look away. It took her a little while for her excitement to build up, letting out soft little moans as she rubbed the fingers of her left hand above her clit and alternating pinching her nipples with her right. She was so lost in her own little world that she did not hear Marge pull up -- nor the (rather hard) slamming of the two car doors. She did hear when the front door opened and froze. "Wow, Mrs. Caspar! I can't believe we spent all that time at the mall and didn't buy anything," Rose said rather loudly, as she and Marge entered the house. I think it was because I was in 'Master' mode that I did not react to Rose's over-the-top acting. I had gone on plenty of shopping expeditions with the girls, and while it might be feasible for the frugal Rose not to buy anything, I doubted that Marge ever came home empty-handed. It was not a bad thing; I, myself, found it rather difficult not to leave a store without purchasing something. But Rose calling attention to the fact that the two ladies returned empty-handed was too much. If Slave hadn't seen through the charade from that, then I thought for sure what Marge said next would have done it. "Jesus, what the hell are you doing to my daughter!?!" Since I had my eyes locked with Slave's, I did not see Marge's face. However, from the tone of her voice, I doubted if she could have been any hammier. From Slave's reaction, however, it did not seem that she detected the overacting on the part of either lady. Slave's eyes darted quickly at the two people who had just entered the house before returning to mine. "Slave, did I say that you could stop?" I asked softly. When Slave shook her head, I arched my eyebrow. She quickly verbally answered me, "No, Master," and then continued trying to pleasure herself. Once she started back up again, keeping my eyes locked with Slave's I explained, "Slave was very well-behaved, especially when I had my friends over, so I am rewarding her." Slave's rubbing of her sex increased at the revelation that it had been strangers that had been caressing her. I had to only warn my slave twice to keep her eyes open as she reached her pinnacle. Slave fought to keep her eyes open when she climaxed, but she was unable to, so I did not chastise her when she succumbed to the ever-increasing waves of pleasure that coursed from her pussy. "Thank you, Master," Slave said, after she had recovered enough to speak. While I had not instructed her to thank me for allowing her to have an orgasm, she knew that it was the proper thing to do. I figured she most likely picked it up from some of the online erotica she had read. My slave's eyes also returned to looking at the floor in front of her. I looked around the room at the other three women who were present. They were all rather flushed and breathing heavily from what they had just witnessed. I caught Traci's eye and gestured her over. When she came close enough to me, I whispered into her ear a request. She did not even let me finish my request before she dashed out of the living room, taking the stairs two at a time. As my girlfriend was making her way up the stairs, I gestured Rose over. She cocked her head to the side in puzzlement, but went to the kitchen to retrieve what I needed after I whispered it into her ear. When both girls returned with what I had asked for, I took a deep breath and exhaled, coming out of my master persona. "Lori?" I asked, smiling softly. I do not know if it was the change in my voice or if it was because I had addressed her as Lori, but after a couple of seconds, the girl who was at my feet registered that it was time to go back to normal. She shook her head, as if trying to clear cobwebs from her mind; a few seconds later, Lori looked up and asked, "Yes, Chad?" I tried to give Lori my most reassuring smile and said, "Let's stop for today. Why don't you put on your robe that your sister was kind enough to get for you?" Lori nodded in agreement and tried to stand up, but found that her legs were too weak. The combination of being in that position for so long plus her recent orgasm seemed to have taken a toll on them. I drew close to her and offered her my hand. She did not hesitate and grabbed ahold of it, and I was able to help her to her feet. Lori donned the robe that Traci had fetched from Lori's room, and Rose stepped forward with a bottle of water. Lori said, "Thanks Traci, thanks Rose." I frowned slightly when Lori did not make eye contact with either of the girls. It appeared that Lori was embarrassed at the actions of Slave, and I knew that I was hoping for too much for her to separate her personas right off the bat. "Lori, normally I would go over with you what we did together as Master and Slave, but I think this time we will wait until tomorrow morning to discuss it. However, if you want to talk about it right now, we can. Otherwise, I want you to write in your journal everything you experienced today. Also, I have a questionnaire for you to complete. It will help us determine what aspects of BDSM that you might enjoy and which ones we should avoid. That sound good?" "Yes, Ma- Chad," Lori said, blushing slightly over her mistake in addressing me. Lori's head was still looking towards the floor; not straight down, as Slave would, but not being held high. I was still rather close to her, so I reached out and lifted her chin with my finger. When she had her head raised, I leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. When I broke the kiss, Lori kept her head up and gave me a weak smile. I returned the smile and turned to see Marge headed for the staircase. "Where are you going?" I asked. Marge's blush deepened slightly as she replied, "Er, shopping made me rather tired. I thought I would go upstairs for a nap." "Yeah, I'm rather tired myself. I think a fifteen minute cat nap would do wonders," said an equally-red Rose. Grinning, Traci announced, "Hell, I don't know how you two can sleep after the show that Slave put on. I'm going to go back to the bedroom and jill off." Everybody seemed shocked at Traci's words, but then Lori started giggling. It wasn't long until everybody else joined in and had a good laugh. It turned out that supper was delayed by thirty minutes that night. Part of the delay was that my girlfriend had not needed to resort to 'jilling off'; I was more than willing (and able) to assist her. When we left the bedroom, my girlfriend was sated, and I was a few cigarettes richer. Traci and I arrived in the kitchen to find it empty. Since Lori had taken Rose grocery shopping that morning, there was plenty of food in the refrigerator. Traci, seeing me pull out some steaks, went over and started preparing some potatoes for baking. Rose, then Lori, joined us in the kitchen and started preparing supper as well. Rose pried me away from the skillet where I was cooking the meat to suggest that I check to see what was taking Marge so long. I knocked softly on Marge's door and waited for an answer. I was about to knock again when I heard her invite me in. When I entered the room, I discovered Marge lying on her bed. She was still wearing the same outfit she had worn when she took Rose over to the Wellers' house, though they were slightly disheveled. Marge gave me a smile, but the redness around her eyes showed that she had been crying. I quickly went over and sat down next to her on the bed. "What's wrong?" I asked with concern in my voice. "It's nothing, Chad. I'm fine," Marge tried to reassure me. Marge had been able to skirt the issue on Monday by bringing up her new job, but there clearly was something that was upsetting her. I locked my gaze with her and asked again, "What's wrong?" Marge saw my determined look but remained silent. When she turned her head to break eye contact with me, I reached out and began to gently stroke her hair. I continued to run my fingers through my hair while she worked up the nerve to speak. Finally, I heard her softly say, "I'm so fucked up." Marge could not see the reassuring smile I gave her, so I brought my hand down to her chin and guided her head to face me. When Marge was able to see me I asked, "And what makes you think that you're fucked up?" She took a deep breath and let it slowly exhale before answering. "Because my daughters are turning me on. A 'normal' mother shouldn't be having sexual feelings for their own kids." "If you are talking about what happened earlier, that was Slave, not Lori that was down there." "No," Marge answered, shaking her head, "That won't wash with me. The nude girl that I saw downstairs wasn't just your slave, she was my daughter, Lori. When I came up here to-," Marge hesitated for a moment before continuing, 'to relieve myself, it wasn't Slave that I masturbated to, but to Lori. Jesus Christ, what kind of sicko am I!?!" It struck me all of the sudden how similar Marge was to Traci. Both of them were having problems understanding their feelings and desires. I tried my best to give comfort to Marge by saying, "So what? You fantasized about your daughter. Where's the harm in that? It's not like you went out and tortured some kitties or robbed a liquor store." Marge protested, "But it's wrong, Chad." I shook my head and said, "You're going to have to do better than that. Wrong in what sense? I know that you're not a highly religious person, Marge, so I doubt you are referring to a biblical standpoint. Even then, I could point out a couple of passages where incest was justified. Legally, yes, incest is illegal, even among adults, but so was sodomy in Texas until just recently." "You're not a mother, so you can't possibly understand," pointed out Marge. "You're right. I'm not a mother, and you are. You are a wonderful mother who cares about the wellbeing of her daughters. I could never see you wanting to harm them; but punishing yourself for what you are feeling is wrong." Marge said, "It's not just feelings. What about me acting upon them? Look what happened at Christmas." I could not help but smile at the recollection and said, "Okay, maybe Frenching Traci when she was blindfolded was pushing the envelope of consent." Marge let out a small chuckle, but quickly composed herself and said, "Dammit, Chad, this isn't a laughing matter! What happens if I want to start making my fantasies real? How can I be a good mother if I am constantly lusting after my daughters?" "You will be a good mother by loving them as you have been. Listen, I've said this before, and I shall say it again. Sex between people is perfectly fine as long as everybody is consenting. You can open up a whole can of worms by trying to define what is consensual, but if you and either of your daughters wanted to explore it, I say go for it." Marge stared at me as if I had grown a second head. After a few moments, she asked, "Are you encouraging me to have sex with my own children?" I shook me head and answered, "Not so much encouraging, but saying that if you were to head down that path, I would not think any less of you. Marge, you are one of the most levelheaded people I know, and I also know that you will weigh the pros and cons of persuing a sexual relationship with your daughters. I just want you to understand that whatever decision you make, I will be fine with it." Marge thought for a moment and then gave me a wry grin. "I can't decide if you are wise for your age or just a horny teenager who wants to see his girlfriend have sex with her mother." I chuckled and replied, "More likely the latter one. Though, from what I can tell, I don't think Traci would be the wisest target of your affections. She doesn't seem to possess any lesbian or bisexual tendencies." "You might be right. She did seem kinda embarrassed last week after you and I got done fuc... having sex. I think it was watching my daughter masturbate in front of me that brought all of my feelings to the surface." Nodding in understanding, I asked, "Would you prefer it if I didn't train Slave around you? As for Traci, part of the condition she set up was that she be present whenever I was sexually involved with someone other than herself, but in the future, I'll try not to rub your face in it." "Hmm, well I think I-," Marge's eyes widened as what I had said sunk in, then let out a loud groan. "Rub my face in it! Jesus, Chad, how does my daughter put up with your dumb puns!" I returned the smile that Marge gave me and just shrugged. It was one of my weaker ones since it was done on the fly, but I was glad that it lightened Marge's mood. I was trying to craft a better comeback when Marge said, "As I was saying, I think you should go ahead with Lori's training. As for Traci, I think I need to have a little talk with her about me using her boyfriend." Marge still had the smile on her face, so I leaned down and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. After breaking the short kiss, I said, "I think we had better head downstairs before the girls think that were up to no good." "Knowing my daughter, I doubt you're in any condition to be 'up'." We both chuckled at Marge's little pun, and I helped her to her feet. Once she was up, she straightened out her clothes, and the two of us went hand-in-hand down to a delicious supper. After we finished eating, we retired to the living room and watched the sumo tournament. Watching pairs of fat, sweaty men trying to push each other out of the ring helped all of us take our minds off what had transpired earlier in the day. However, on occasion, Lori would become distracted. Perhaps she wondered what the next day had in store. ------- Chapter 23 It's my party and I rhyme if I want to. - K. and P. The sound of birds chirping greeted me when I woke up Sunday morning. I carefully untangled my body from around an exhausted Traci. The previous day's events had really worked up my girlfriend's sexual appetite, so we had spent most of the night alternating between making love and fucking like usagi (rabbits). I glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was half past seven. I did not want to disturb my love by taking a shower in the master bathroom, so I opted to use the hallway bathroom. Retrieving a pair of jeans and my 'Full Metal Panic' tee shirt from my walk-in closet, I made my way to the other bathroom unobserved. After my shower, I headed into the living room. It took me a couple of minutes to make up my mind if I should go upstairs and talk to Lori about her first day being dominated or if I should make breakfast for everybody. Since I was unsure when the rest of the house would be up, I opted to go up to Lori's room. I knocked softly on the door, but after I did not get a reply, I quietly let myself in. Lori was sound asleep in her bed. She was sleeping on her right side, so I had a clear view of her face. For a second, I was taken aback by how much she looked like Traci when she was sleeping. Unlike my girlfriend, I noticed that Lori was wearing a sleeping tee shirt (her sister now preferred sleeping nude). Spotting Lori's journal and the questionnaire that I had given her sitting on her desk, I stealthily made my way over to it. When I opened the journal and saw how much Lori had written, I opted to move to the comfortable chair along the wall instead of sitting down at the desk to read it. The questionnaire held no major surprises; it appeared that Lori was willing to try most everything on there, save for a few extreme things. The journal was another matter. Lori had used two different colored pens to write in her journal: black for when she wrote as Slave and blue for when she wrote as Lori. It seemed that she took the idea of two personas quite seriously, and I was pleased that she had thought of writing the feelings of them separately on her own. Lori had been mortified when she felt what she guessed was semen making contact with her skin, whereas Slave had been turned on even more. The illinition of the substance to her upper lip had seemed cruel to Lori because she had had to constantly smell it, while Slave found it cruel because she was unable to lick it up. Lori had been comforted in the fact that the semen had most likely belonged to me, but she grew doubtful of it when she felt multiple sets of hands on her. They had both guessed correctly on whose hands had been on them, but it appeared that the charade that we had pulled had worked, and they now were highly doubtful that it could have belonged to Marge and Rose. Slave found the idea of strangers touching her highly erotic; Lori was afraid that they might have been people from school, and she was unsure how she could face her classmates on Tuesday. It was while I was reading the last page of the journal when I noticed Lori's breathing pattern change. I smiled to myself when Lori began to moan softly. Every so often, she would mumble something unintelligible, but I swore on a couple of occasions I could make out the word 'master'. When Lori finally woke up, she stretched and let out a long yawn. It did not appear that she noticed me in the room as she rolled onto her back and her right hand lazily slid itself underneath the blankets. She suddenly stopped its descent and quickly pulled it out, as if remembering the rule about not pleasuring herself without permission. She jerked slightly when she heard me chuckle at her antics. "Jesus, you scared me!" exclaimed Lori. After a couple of heartbeats, she inquired, "Chad?" I gave her a grin and nodded. "I'm sorry, Lori. I didn't mean to startle you, but the way you stopped yourself was just too funny." "Damn, I'm starting to regret making that rule all of the time instead of just when I'm Slave," Lori said with an embarrassed grin. I thought for a moment and decided that the one climax I had allowed Slave was too little for all that went on Saturday. "If you want, I'll let you cum once this morning." Lori hesitated for a moment, then asked, "As myself or Slave?" I smiled and said, "As Lori. I can leave the room if you prefer some privacy." As I started to stand up, Lori said, "No, it's okay to stay. Though, if you don't mind, I'll just keep my blankets up." I gave the blushing girl a reassuring smile and settled back down into the chair. I tried to finish reading the journal, but Lori's moans made it quite difficult. She had stuffed part of her pillow in her mouth to keep down her noise, but being in the same room with her, it did not muffle it enough. The blanket fell up and down rapidly over her loins as she desperately frigged herself. She let out a loud moan of satisfaction as she came and, afterwards, she curled herself up in a fetal position. When she finally recovered from her orgasm, she rolled back to face me. I was unsure if the blush on her face was more of a sexual nature or from embarrassment. "Thanks, Chad. I can't believe how horny I was when I woke up. I don't know if it was because of yesterday, the dreams that I had, or a combination of both." I suggested, "Maybe you should also keep a dream journal, as well." Lori glanced at her desk and then back at me, spotting the journal that I held for the first time. A twinge of panic seemed to reach her eyes, but it was quickly suppressed. Lori said, "I hope I did that correctly." "Yes, you did a wonderful job with your journal. Actually, writing your thoughts and feelings as both Lori and Slave was a good idea. I wish I had thought of that." Lori seemed pleased with my praise, so she smiled at me. "It's still kinda hard for me to get used to the idea of being two different people, so I thought that if I wrote about it like that, it might make it easier." I nodded and said, "Well, you brought up some points in your journal that I wanted to talk to you about. As I said yesterday, we will usually go over what we did in a scene immediately upon your return to being Lori. However, I thought that we would try seeing what it would be like for you not to know what actually happened until later. So how was it not knowing what happened while you were blindfolded?" Lori gave the question some serious thought before answering. "As I wrote in the journal, when I was Slave, I was turned on at not being in control, not knowing who was touching me and such. But when I returned to being Lori, there was this overwhelming fear that it might have been your otaku friends who had been touching me. It's not like I don't trust them or anything, but I don't know them well enough to be sure that they would keep their mouths shut about me. I think it was the fact that you had told me that you would always keep my welfare as your number one priority that helped me through it." I nodded my agreement and decided that then was as good time as any to explain what had transpired when Lori was blindfolded. "First and foremost, I need to apologize for ejaculating on you; I had not wanted to go that far during our first scene. In my defense, thanks to your sister, I was not operating with full facilities. At the least, I should have stopped the 'illinition' of my semen to your upper lip." Lori chuckled and said, "Well, at least it was your sperm. It is reassuring that, the first time that I taste cum, it is from my master." She then grinned and added, "I see you picked up on my use of 'illinition'. I learned that word when studying for the SATs and never thought I would get a chance to use it." I gave Lori an apologetic smile and went on, "As for whose hands that were upon you, you don't have to look outside of this house to find their owners." Lori let out a sigh of relief and said, "I thought so, but then when Mom and Rose came home, I wasn't sure." I gave her a wink and said, "We thought we would try playing a trick on you. Glad to see that it worked." Lori chuckled and tossed a pillow at me. "You're such a stinker. Remind me to stay on your good side." I returned her grin and asked, "Is there anything else that you need to know?" Lori thought for a moment and then asked, "Was that true what you said about Mom, calling her 'Master's Lover' or were you just role-playing?" "Hmm. As somebody who I'm going to have sexual intercourse with, you have the right to know about my sexual history, but in this case, I think it would be best to ask your mom that question." Lori let out a small snort and replied, "Well, that sounds like a yes to me." "Let's say that it's true, that your mom and I are having sex. Would that upset you?" Lori shrugged and said, "Not really. I guess I would mostly be hurt that she couldn't trust me to tell me about it." "Well, I'm not confirming nor denying it, but if it did happen, perhaps she had a reason why she did not tell you." Lori cracked a smile and said, "You know, you sound like one of those politicians you're always bitching about." I let out a mock groan and asked, "Anything else you want to talk about?" When Lori shook her head I asked, "What are your plans for today?" "Nothing that I can't change." Frowning slightly, I stated, "I did not ask you if you could change your plans. I was asking if you had any." "Well, Vicky invited me and a couple of the cheerleaders to do some shopping at the mall this afternoon. I had given her a tentative yes, but she won't mind if I bail." I smiled at Lori's willingness to alter her schedule. "No, I think it would best if you did hang out with your friends today. After all, my friends are coming over this afternoon, so unless you think Slave would like to serve a bunch of anime nerds topless, shopping sounds like a plan." Lori let out a nervous laugh and agreed. "Yeah, I don't think I'm up to that level, yet. Slave might like the idea of her classmates ogling her, but I don't think I could show my face at school if I did." I nodded. She then surprised me slightly when she added, "Perhaps in the summer I might give them some 'fan service'." I gave Lori a huge grin; not because she would consider such a thing, but because (unlike her sister) she was able to use the anime term correctly. ------- The purpose for the meeting we were holding that Sunday afternoon was to choose a new fansubbing project. We had discussed some of the details at our school lunch meetings, but decided that we would review the available raws at my house. I would have preferred to postpone the meeting for another week, but I had been neglecting my male friends enough as it was. I told the guys to swing by after 1:00; Chuck was the last to arrive at 1:15. He also brought along a guest. "Hi, Fran. I wasn't expecting to see you here," I said to the tall blonde as she came through the foyer. Fran was looking back at Rose who had let Chuck and her into the house. True to fashion, Rose was wearing one of her maid's outfits. It was not the most provocative outfit she had worn during the otaku meetings, but it did not leave much to the imagination either. Fran then turned to me and said, "Hey, Chad. I hope you don't mind me crashing you guys' meeting. I've been staying at Chuck's house this weekend and thought it would be more fun to tag along, especially since his mom got rid of his dolls." Chuck let out a deep sigh and said, "How many times do I need to tell you, they were 'action figures'. I'm still pissed that she sold my G.I. Joes at the swap meet." Fran flashed me a grin, confirming that she perfectly knew well what they were called. Traci chose that opportune time to walk into the living room from the hallway. She saw her arch-nemesis grinning at me, but did not break stride as she went over and gave Fran a welcome hug. When they finished their embrace, I said, "Well, since we need to start our meeting, would you mind showing Fran around, Traci?" Traci turned and gave me a questioning look; Rose attempted to help her friend, "Chad, I can do that." "Don't be silly. Like it or not, you're pretty much a member of our group. Heck, I think you have seen more anime this past couple of months than Bill has watched all year." "Hey," protested Bill, "you try holding two jobs while still going to school and see how anime you can watch." He gave Rose a smile and added, "However, Chad's right. You do more than just fetch us drinks; we value what you have to say." The rest of the guys also reassured Rose that she was a member of the club. Traci finally announced, "I don't mind giving Fran a complete tour of the house." Traci then led the tall blonde down the hallway to show her the three downstairs bedrooms. I trusted my love completely and knew that she would never betray the trust that the two of us had built, but I could not help but grow nervous whenever she and Fran got near the staircase. It was most likely my overactive imagination that made me think she stressed the word 'complete'. I was still contemplating Traci's choice of words when David brought me back to the conversation at hand. "I still think that if we do choose a project and it gets licensed in the US before we're done, we should still finish it," David said with some exasperation. Bill pointed out, "But that goes against the principles of fansubbing. The reasons why the US companies tolerate it is because they can judge what people want to see, and it promotes anime in general; hell, they have even hired fansubbers based on how well they do. But if we continue to fansub a project after it's licensed, they'll come after us." "That's why you guys picked a thirteen-episode project last time, because you guys could finish before it was licensed, right? So just pick another short one again." Chuck smiled at Rose and explained, "That's part of our dilemma: the current batch of new ones have already been snatched up by other groups. We could either go with a longer project or pick one that is already being done." Mike spoke up, "Even if we did pick a longer project, I am sure that we can complete it before a US company grabs it. Look at Naruto. It has been on for more than two years and it's not licensed." "Actually," I replied, "I saw on a rumor on a website that Cartoon Network was going to be broadcasting it either the fall of this year or beginning of next." "I'll bet they'll never carry a lesbian romantic mech drama," mumbled Rose. She was referring to Kannadzuki no Miko, a series that she enjoyed, for the most part. Towards the middle of it, she had grown quite irate at the actions of one of the main characters, but the final episode moved her to tears. I think it was that series that showed Rose how intricate and compelling a good anime could be, and she had been hooked ever since. "Hey, that's not a bad idea, we could always do something that won't get licensed," stated David. "Like hentai?" joked Rose. Mike took Rose's question seriously, "Nah, even those get licensed. Maybe something that is really Japanese and the US companies don't think it will translate well, or a subject matter that they won't want to touch." "Hmm, but if we go too extreme, then nobody will want to download it. Look at Sukisyo: two groups are doing it, but nobody is downloading it because it was based on a shounen-ai game." Rose gave me a puzzled look at what David had said, so I filled her in, "Boys'-love game." "So desu ne," replied Rose, showing her understanding of my explanation. While there had been many anime based on H-Games, there had been very few that dealt with just male-on-male interaction. Actually, as I thought about it, Sukisyo might be the first to be fansubbed. "What about doing an older series?" suggested Rose. "I mean, if it has been out for a couple of years, then chances of it getting picked up are slim." Bill said, "The problem with that is acquiring the raws. That's mainly why we have been sticking to stuff that has been released on Tokyo Toshokan." Rose shrugged and said, "Chad and I can buy them on DVD when we go to Japan." Mike gave Rose a smile and asked, "Rose, how much do you think anime DVDs cost?" "Just the same as regular DVDs, between $15 and $20." Mike shook his head, "More like between $20 and $40. And that is here in the US. Guess how much they cost in Japan." Rose frowned and replied, "From the way you said that, I am guessing more?" "More like between $40-$70 per DVD." "Shit! And they pay that much for them?" Mike nodded and let the other shoe drop, "Yup. Then there are OVAs, Original Video Animes; they can cost over $120 for a DVD that contains a single episode." Rose looked at Mike incredulously and said, "Now I know you're shitting me. There is no way that is true!" Rose then saw the rest of us nodding in agreement and asked, "How in the world can they get away with it?" I said, "Because there are people willing to buy them. OVAs get their name because they are not broadcasted; they go straight to video. Since the company that made them doesn't get any money from broadcasting, they pass the costs off to the consumers. However, I think you brought up a good point about us buying the DVDs when we go there." "Not if they cost that much!" protested Rose. I smiled and explained, "Well, if it is a series that has been out for a while, I am sure it will be less expensive. Also, we might be able to pick it up secondhand or even on laser disc at an anime shop." Rose nodded, but could not let the revelation of how much anime DVDs cost drop. "If anime costs so much, why in the hell do you buy them even when you have them fansubbed?" "Because he's baka," laughed Bill. I gave a grin and nodded. The real reason -- that the government frowned upon copyright infringement and 'forced' me to buy the DVDs -- was not one that I could explain to my friends. Instead, I said, "Because that is what a person who has fansubs is supposed to do: buy the DVDs once they become licensed." Everybody cracked up laughing when Rose said, "Bill's right -- you are baka." ------- We spent close to an hour going over what titles to keep our eyes open for when Rose and I were in Japan. It broke down into the same old argument: Bill and David prefer Sci-Fi, Chuck and John want romantic-comedies, Mike wants mystery/horror, and while I try to stay neutral, I mostly side with Chuck and John. Rose weighed in with her opinion that it did not matter, as long as it involved at least one character in a maid's outfit. We accessed the internet via the media PC in the living room as well as my laptop to get a better understanding of some of the older anime titles. "Hey, where did Fran and Traci go?" asked Chuck. For the briefest of moments, the image of Fran bound and gagged in the Dungeon with Traci towering over her flickered across my mind. I pushed that thought aside since it would have been virtually impossible for the two girls to have gone down there without drawing attention to themselves. Rose speculated, "Maybe the game room?" Everybody grew silent and listened carefully. After about fifteen seconds, we heard the sound of a rack of pool balls being broke. "Wanta join them?" I asked. We had pretty much settled on the list of titles to acquire. As we started up the stairs, Bill asked, "Should we give you and Rose some money to buy them?" "Nah, I'll just factor it into you guys' tab," I replied. I doubted less than a minute passed from when my friends heard about the trip to Japan before they started pestering me with stuff to buy. I had actually planned on making purchases for them and had insisted that they write down their 'wish lists'; I would collect the money from them upon my return. The 'game room' was basically an open area at the top of the staircase. The pool and card tables had been left behind when I moved in. Traci and Fran had just started up a game of eight ball. They stopped their game when they saw us come up and suggested that we should break into teams and play. "Actually, I need to get going. I have to work at Starbucks in a half-hour," confessed Bill. He then turned to Mike and asked, "Can David catch a ride with you?" Mike shrugged and said, "Sure, it's not out of my way. You cool with hanging out for a while here, David?" "Yeah, as long as it's not too long. I still gotta do my bio homework." Mike pointed out, "You can do it tomorrow. Remember, no school." "Oh shit, I forgot about that," confessed David. "Yeah, I can do homework tomorrow." "Okay, that leaves seven of us," observed John. "You can count me out," said Rose, "I want to get some more housework done before I start on dinner." As soon as Rose had gone downstairs and was well out of earshot, Fran inquisitively asked Traci, "Not only does she clean, but she cooks for you guys?" I answered Fran's question, "Yeah, it's something that she took upon herself after she moved in. We do try to take turns with cooking supper, but Rose can get quite feisty if we try to take to much away from her." "So how do we determine teams?" asked David. "Jan Ken Po?" I suggested. Chuck shook his head, "Nah, Rock, Paper, Scissors won't work. If we want to do teams of three, then we should have the girls each pick two guys. If we want to do teams of two, then we'll get three pairs of cards from the card deck and draw." "Trust me, Chuck, it will be a lot easier to Jan Ken Po it," I told my black friend. He gave me a dubious look, but on the count of three, we all threw out hands. I announced, "Okay, Mike and I both threw rocks, so we'll be one team. You guys do it again." Fran, Chuck, and David threw scissors, this time, with Traci throwing paper. On the second round, Traci threw rock, Chuck threw paper, and Fran and David threw scissors. "Okay, Fran and David make a team, with Traci and Chuck making the third team." Traci asked, "Which teams go first?" I noticed everybody looking at me, so I replied, "Hey, I just came up with the way to make teams, not what order they played. Tell you what, you guys go first, and Mike and I will play the winners." Everybody nodded in agreement, so the other two teams started up their game of eight ball, and Mike and I played pinball. After the third time Mike had tilted the machine, he mused, "You guys should really get this fixed." He was referring to the right flipper. Occasionally, it would get stuck in the up position and required a whack to the side to dislodge it. Only problem was that, if you hit it too hard, it would tilt the game. I told Mike, "The Caspars like it this way," Mike nodded in understanding. He, along with the rest of the otakus, had helped with the move over and remembered how much concern Traci and Lori had shown when we had to carry the heavy pinball machine up the stairs. The pinball game had been one of John Caspar's prized possessions, and the sticking flipper was an element to the game he had mastered. All three Caspar women were better at dislodging the flipper without tilting than Rose and I. It turned out that we had worked out a good system of four people playing pool with the remaining two playing pinball. There had been a pool table at the Compound, and while I was nowhere in the league of the gambling agents, I was the most proficient player among my friends. Mike, on the other hand, was probably the worst, so we offset each other pretty well. After seven games, Chuck suggested we all go swimming. "Oh, I didn't know to bring a suit," protested Fran. "You can always go skinny-dipping," suggested Chuck. I added, "Yeah, none of the neighbors will see you, right Traci?" Traci rolled her eyes, the previous day's events still fresh in her memory, and told Fran, "I have an old two-piece top that is too small for me, but it should fit you. As for bottoms, one of my mom's should work." Fran asked, "You sure, Traci? Maybe you should call your mom and ask her first." "Nah, it's cool. Mom and I share everything, right Chad?" Once again, my love showed that she could give as well as she could take. While my little tease might have been picked up by some of the others in the room, I sure hoped that nobody had a clue what Traci was referring to. Luckily, I was spared any scrutiny by Fran's sudden revelation. "Hey, is that what you brought in the bag? A pair of swim trunks?" Fran asked Chuck. "Yeah, so?" "So you knew there might be swimming and you didn't tell me." Chuck pointed out, "You're the one who wanted to tag along at the last moment. It's your fault for not asking." Fran grinned and teased, "More like you wanted to see naked again." Everybody chuckled at Chuck's embarrassment and dispersed to change into our swimming outfits. When I went downstairs, I sought out Rose to see if she wanted to join us. "Depends. How many will be staying for supper?" I thought for a moment and replied, "Hmm, I don't know. I'll find out and let you know." Rose nodded and went back to folding laundry. Everybody else was assembling at the pool, and Fran was the last of us to leave the house. I think the swimsuit that she was wearing made her a little timorous. It was not so much the size of the bikini that she was wearing, but what it revealed. "Oh, wow! She's just like Kugura from Azumanga Daioh," observed Mike. Everybody pretty much nodded in agreement to Mike's reference. Fran's tan had started to fade slightly since the end of water polo, but she still possessed a fairly decent tan. The problem with her tan was that, since she had been wearing multiple one-piece suits, a good portion of her torso still possessed a milky-white skin tone, similar to the anime character that Mike had mentioned. The contrast was startling. Since Fran had unknowingly saved me scrutiny earlier, I thought I would return the favor by diverting attention from her. "How many of you guys want to stay for supper? Actually, since tonight isn't a school night, you're free to crash here if you want." It was a common occurrence for people to sleep over after our Saturday poker nights, and a few of the otakus had started to keep sleepwear in the guest room's dresser. However, all of the houseguests except Mike had to call their parents to get permission first. After Fran got off the phone with Chuck's mom, she informed me that Mrs. Johnson would be stopping by with some stuff for her. Rose had just come down the staircase, having just put away some laundry, when I stopped her and updated her on what was going on. "You should give Pollyanna a call and see if she wants to come over; I'll call Michelle and invite her," I added. Rose nodded in agreement, but began to protest when I suggested we should just order some takeout or pizza instead of cooking. "Rose, hon, we're already up to nine people. We should go with pizza or Chinese, instead." "But we just had pizza yesterday," objected Rose. Suddenly, she blurted out, "Mexican!" Confused, I asked, "Mexican takeout?" Rose shook her head, the idea forming in her mind as she spoke, "No, we can have Mexican. We can do a taco/burrito-type bar where everybody can make their own. I have all the ingredients, and it won't be any trouble at all to prepare." Seeing Rose's determined look, I relented. "Okay, do we have plenty of drinks?" A catcall interrupted Rose's reply, and I turned around to see the source. Standing in the archway of the foyer was Lori and three of the members of her cheerleading squad: Vicky Carson, Jenny Reeds, and Susan Ramirez. All four of them were carrying bags, the spoils of their shopping expedition. Susan commented, "Damn, I had almost forgotten how fine this guy looks in a bathing suit. Too bad that swimsuit isn't a Speedo." I gave all four girls a grin and replied, "No worries. I haven't forgotten the pleasant view I used to receive at the games." They returned my grin. During water polo season, the cheerleaders would sometimes attend our games. Since they would sit on the bottom row of the bleacher stands, our whole team was able to admire their nice athletic legs. "Looks like a party/sleepover is starting to develop; you girls are more than welcome to stay," I said, glancing back at Rose for confirmation. Rose nodded in agreement, adding, "I'll just need a couple more ingredients, but three more people won't be a problem at all." "Should we call Marge and ask her to pick them up for you on her way home from the hospital?" I asked Rose. Rose wrinkled her nose as she thought about it, "No, she's not going to get here until after six. It would better if I had the stuff before then." "I'll ask one of the guys to fetch it, then," I said. "Actually, I can do it," volunteered Lori. Apparently, while Rose and I were having our little discussion, the other three girls had agreed to the invite, but needed to head home to retrieve some things. "I'll tag along and help you," I told Lori. It appeared that she was going to object, but instead, she nodded. Her actions caused me to wonder if I had used my master tone, but judging from the reactions of the others in the room, it appeared that I had not. The four girls went upstairs to stash Lori's purchases away; I dashed to my room to change, then came back and met Rose kitchen. Rose had finished the grocery list by the time Lori joined us. Since Lori's car was in the garage, she and I bid farewell to Rose and entered the garage via the kitchen door entrance. Once we were both seated and our seatbelts fastened, I turned to Lori to apologize. "I'm sorry, Lori. I had planned to continue our training this evening, but things started to snowball and, before I knew it, I was hosting a party." Lori nodded in understanding. "It's cool, I don't mind at all. Actually, I think it might be for the best. Yesterday was such a turn-on that I don't think I could handle another day if it turned out like anything like that. Also, you were right about hanging out with my friends this afternoon. We had a great time." "Oh?" I asked, "Tell me all about it." As Lori drove to the supermarket, we discussed how our respective days went. It was an enjoyable conversation, and I was glad to see that our new relationship had not damaged our friendship. When she pulled into the shopping center parking lot, I asked her to stop by Starbucks first. I bought a couple of ice teas for Lori and me while informing Bill about the party. He told me that he would swing by after his shift. Lori and I then proceeded to Albertsons. It only took us about fifteen minutes to gather everything on the list, so we returned home in less than half an hour. As we approached the house, I noticed Jean's minivan parked along the curb in front of the house. When Lori pulled into the garage, she left the garage door open so that she could move her car out into the driveway after we had finished unloading the car. Marge had the next two days off of work, and the two of them alternated whose car was parked in the garage depending on their schedules. While the garage was nominally big enough to fit both vehicles, some of the Caspars' stuff precluded it. Pollyanna, Michelle, and Jean were helping Rose in the kitchen. After I greeted everybody, Michelle and Jean helped Lori and me unload the car. After we completed the task, I asked Jean if she was staying for supper. Jean nodded and added, "I was thinking that Marge and I could go do something afterwards so that you all can have some fun without having some old fogies spoiling your time." "One," I pointed out, "you and Marge are far from being 'old fogies'. And two, I would prefer it if you did stick around. Having adult supervision should prevent the party from getting out of hand or anything illicit from happening." Jean gave me a wry grin and said, "I don't know, I seem to remember things getting 'illicit' even when Marge and I were here." Jean was, of course, referring to the first sleepover where I had capped off the evening by exposing myself to my houseguests. I was saved from having to come up with a witty reply to hide my embarrassment by the doorbell. Rose started to abandon her task of dicing to tomatoes when I told her I would get it. She shot me a thankful smile and returned to her work. I was greeted at the door by a rather attractive, middle-aged African-American woman who was holding a small duffel bag. I invited her in, saying. "You must be Mrs. Johnson. I can see where Fran inherited her beauty, she has your eyes." Chuck's mom flashed me broad grin and said, "And from what Chuck and Fran have told me, I guessing you must be Chad. They said that you were a smooth operator when it came to the ladies." I chuckled and Mrs. Johnson added, "As for the color of my eyes, I'm afraid that unlike my 'daughter', I have to use contact lenses." "Hey, Mom," Fran cried out as she came into the house from the backyard. "Lordy, Child! I now see why you wanted me to stop by your house and pick up your swimsuit." Even with the short amount of exposure to the sun and the modest amount of sun block that Fran had applied, the untanned portions of her body had started to gain a reddish hue. After thanking and retrieving the bag from Mrs. Johnson, Fran hurried off to change swimsuits. "Would you like to stay for supper? We have plenty of food and would love the company." Chuck's mother shook her head and said, "Actually, I need to be heading back home. I figured that with the kids staying here, my husband and I might enjoy a nice romantic evening." After bidding farewell to Mrs. Johnson, I returned to the kitchen. Jean was sitting in the breakfast nook watching the girls prepare supper. Apparently, they had insisted that she not help them in the kitchen, even with the culinary prowess she possessed. "Did you want to join me in the backyard?" I asked her. Jean frowned slightly and pointed out, "If you're worried about 'illicit' behavior, perhaps the front yard might be a better choice." I nodded in agreement and the two of us left the house. Once we were on the front yard, I asked if I could bum a cigarette. "I only have menthols," Jean said, knowing my usual brand of cigarettes. I gave a mock shudder, but confessed, "I'm down to my last pack so I'm willing to smoke it." Jean held out the cancer stick but pulled it out of my grasp, asking, "Did you earn it?" Rolling my eyes, I moaned, "Does my girlfriend share our sex life with EVERYONE?" Jean grinned and said, "Actually, she shared it with Michelle, and Michelle passed it on to me. My daughter and I have been having some heartfelt conversations over the past few months. There have even been a couple of occasions when she hinted at her sexual preferences. Still, you did not answer my question." She handed me the cigarette after I nodded. I lit up and explained, "I haven't been smoking all of the cigarettes that I 'earn'. Did I mention that I was on my last pack?" Jean shook her head, picking up on my hint. "Sorry, I promised Traci that I would not buy any cigarettes for you. She, however, didn't mention anything about you bumming them from me." I gave her an appreciative grin and the two of us chatted while we smoked. It was after I had lit up a second menthol that a familiar vehicle pulled into my neighbor's driveway. When the elderly man got out of the old pickup truck, I shouted to him, "Gij zijt zo lelijk dat de buren bij uinbreken om de gordijnen dicht te doen." He smirked and shot back, "Als mijne hond ne kop had gelijk gij, dan schoor ik z'n gat kaal en leerde hem achteruit lopen!" I smiled back to him and we waved to each other. After the old man had entered the house, Jean asked, "What was that all about?" "Oh that? It's something that goes on whenever we see each other. You see, it was one day right after I had just moved here that I cut in front of his truck on my bike. I guess he thought it was too close and I heard him call me a jan lul, a term I recognized as meaning 'dumb ass'. Well, in turn, I told called him an ouwe bok, an old male goat. He just looked surprised then and continued on his way. I suppose he thought I just knew a couple phrases, so he tried something more complex the next week, but I just tossed something just as involved right back at him. That really shocked him, but I'm sure I also saw him hiding a grin as he turned away. Ever since then, we have been trading insults with each other in Flemish. Heck, I don't even know his name, just that he seems to visit my neighbor, Mr. Falmonz, weekly." "And what did you two just say to each other?" "Well, I roughly said, 'You're so ugly, the neighbors break into your house to close the curtains' to which he replied, 'If my dog had a head like yours, I would shave his ass and teach him to walk backwards!''" Jean looked aghast for a second before she broke into huge gales of laughter. I thought I would deflate some of the air from her sails by asking, "So you don't mind being in Japan during your birthday?" My question worked as she stopped laughing and gave me an accusing look. "How did you find out my birthday? Michelle swore that she wouldn't tell you." I gave her a grin and said, "I have my sources." Truth was that Michelle had unintentionally clued me in when she had mentioned being born in Central City. The next time I had gone up to San Luis Obispo, I stopped by the County Clerk's office and looked up her birth certificate. The document contained the birthdays for Jean and Scott. Jean gave me a dubious look, which I returned with one of innocence. She just rolled her eyes, and we then started discussing the trip. When I had finished my second cigarette, the two of us headed back inside the house; I went to my bedroom to brush my teeth and change back into swim trunks. On more than one occasion, Traci had pointed out that she could still smell the aftereffects of my smoking even after I had brushed my teeth, so I thought a quick dip in the pool would help matters. When I reached the backyard, I discovered everybody had integrated pretty well. It appeared that dinner was pretty close to being ready because Rose had chased Michelle and Pollyanna out of the kitchen and the two of them had made their way outside. Traci's, Lori's, and my friends were all intermingled and nearly randomly dispersed into small groups between the pool, hot tub, chaise lounges about the yard, and the patio tables. I also noticed a couple more people had joined the festivities and recognized them from the cheer squad, so I went over to greet them. "Hey, Nick and Joey," I said as I approached the table that they were sitting at. Nick Wallace and Joey Ford were the only guys on the fall varsity squad. They were sitting with Chuck and Pollyanna, so I grabbed a chair next to the two cheerleaders. "Hey, Chad! I hope you don't mind that we crashed your party. Vicky called us up and told us about it, but Lori seemed hesitant when she let us in," said Nick. "Nah, it's cool. The more the merrier," I replied. I lowered my voice a tad and added, "Actually, it allows me to make sure that everything is still a go for next week." Joey subconsciously glanced over at the hot tub where Lori was. There was plenty of distance between us at the hot tub so the chances of us being overhead were nil. Both guys nodded, and Nick asked, "Are you sure you will be able to keep her away from the house until we get everything set up?" I smiled and answered, "I am quite positive that I can accomplish it. I already have a plan set up." While Chuck looked bewildered at the exchange that I had with the two guys, Pollyanna had a knowing look on her face. She had been present when I went over my little plan with Rose for next week's charade. When I got up to leave the table, I noticed Fran motioning me over to the hot tub, but I waved her off. Instead, I dove into the pool and surfaced next to my girlfriend. I gave her a quick, yet tender, kiss. "I'm surprised you didn't go to the hot tub," observed Traci. While I was sitting at the table, I had noticed Traci watching me, so I knew that the wisest decision was to join her after my little chat. "Silly! Seeing you in such a sexy swimsuit made me rather hot, so I thought I would cool off with a quick dip." She gave me a grin and replied, "You're so full of bullshit, but I don't mind it at all. More like you wanted to wash the smell of your smoking off of ya." I gave her my most innocent look, but she was having none of that. "Silly, I can tell that you just brushed your teeth. So that means that you've either been smoking or eating pussy," she said with a low voice. "And how do you know it wasn't cunnilingus that led me to brush my teeth?" I asked in an equally low voice. I hate being predictable, but it appeared Traci was expecting that question because her hand found her target as soon as I had let the words out of my mouth. She gave me a none-too-gentle squeeze, saying, "Because you value this too much to risk losing it by doing anything sexual without me present." The process of pulling myself out of my girlfriend's grasp drew a few amused looks, but I was pretty certain that nobody had overhead our little conversation. I gave Traci an extravagantly wary look and made my way to the nearest wall. Compared to the previous day, I did not have to worry about any erection causing me difficulty hoisting myself out of the water. If I did have one, Traci's 'attitude adjustment' would have taken care of it. I made a quick circle around the backyard, checking to make sure that all the guests were taken care of. When I went back into the house, I stopped by the kitchen to check on Rose. She informed me that supper would be ready in ten minutes, so I headed back to my room to change into something more suitable for dinner. The supper spread was laid out on the breakfast nook table, along with a plethora of paper plates and plastic utensils. Not only did the disposable dishware make clean-up easier, it allowed the guests to feel free to take their food out into the backyard if they chose not to eat in the dining room. People had just started loading their plates when Marge came into the kitchen from the garage. Traci had left a message on Marge's cell phone (it had to be turned off when she worked in the hospital) so she was not surprised to see so many people in the house. I went over and poured her a virgin sangria -- Rose had made a few batches to go with supper -- and asked her how work went. Marge confessed, "Honestly, I can't wait to start my new job next week. I feel a little bad about only giving them two weeks notice, but the change of pace will be nice." When there was a pause in the line at the food, Marge and I swooped in and filled our plates. We then went into the dining room and found a couple of seats between Traci and Jean. Marge and Jean mostly talked among themselves, while mine and Traci's conversation was torn between others at the table. After supper, I headed to the living room and set up Winamp to play music. After the fiasco with my 'missing' CD, I had taken the liberty of going through the house's collection of music and ripping them to MP3s. It was quite simple to have Winamp play random dance and rock music, so it took me less than a minute to complete the task. Since it was still rather early in the evening, I had the music piped out into the backyard. While the volume was not that loud, I made a mental note to turn it off by 9:00 so as not to disturb my neighbor. The rest of the evening progressed rather smoothly. It was around 8:00 that Bill turned up with his brother Theodore, an eighth grader. I made the mistake of calling Bill's brother Ted, something that he quickly corrected me on. After Theodore had left to change into the swimsuit he had brought, Bill filled me in. "He insists that everybody calls him Theodore, especially since I use Bill instead of William," explained Bill. When he saw the puzzled look on my face, he added, "Our parents are big fans of Keanu Reeves." "So desu ne," I replied, nodding in understanding, but having no idea what he was talking about. I figured I could find Traci or Rose and have them fill me in later. I started to look around the living room when I saw an odd thing happen. Lori was standing next to a couple of her friends, listening to their conversation, when she paled suddenly. Her look of apprehension only lasted for a few seconds, so I did not suspect her friends noticed it. Scanning the room, I saw that Traci had, and she was grinning widely at me. When she saw my puzzled look, she rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side, the universal sign to listen. It was then that I noticed what song was playing. I could not help but to smile and shake my head. Half an hour later, I had just finished draining my lizard in the master bathroom, only to discover Lori waiting for me in the bedroom. She was standing with her weight shifted to one leg and her hands on her hips. The pout that she had on her lips matched her sister's typical one, so I had a feeling that she was overacting slightly. She asked accusingly, "Did you play that song on purpose?" I professed my innocence, "Darling, I swear that it was purely random. The only thing I had Winamp do was exclude some of my early Prince albums." I then grinned and said, "Had I known it would have caused a reaction, I would have set it up to play 'Wannabe' repetitiously." "Bastard," Lori said, a smile starting to break through her pout. "I swear, Chad; it is a good thing that I am wearing jeans. I practically creamed my pants when I heard that song. Hell, I'm still horny." I tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Is that always going to happen? Am I going to get like that every time I hear that song?" I shrugged and said, "I don't know. You associate that song with something that brought you pleasure. I think, as time goes by, you won't have the same reaction. Though, if you want, next time I'll bind you to a chair and have you watch hours of porn while playing Beethoven's Ninth." Getting the reference I made, Lori grinned and added, "As long as you don't pry open my eyelids, I think that is doable." "Hey, speaking of movies, do you know why Theodore doesn't like being called Ted?" Lori chuckled and said, "Duuude, he most likely doesn't like being asked if he had an excellent adventure or a bogus journey." Lori caught my puzzled look and added, "Jesus, Chad! I can't believe you don't know those films. They are cult classics. I swear, they are on Comedy Central all the time." I shrugged and explained, "Sorry, whenever I tune into Comedy Central, it always seems to be commercials." Rose had turned me on to an animated show that aired on the channel called 'South Park', which I enjoyed immensely. The constant ads that the station would air had been too much, so I ended up just downloading the episodes via BitTorrent instead of having to put up with the constant barrage of 'Girls Gone Wild' and 'Oxy-Clean' commercials. Lori gave me a smile and said, "It could have been worse. Their parents could have named Bill 'Alvin' and had a third kid named 'Simon'." Now that reference I did know, partly because Marge owned a CD of the three singing Chipmunks. We both started laughing, especially when I started to mimic Alvin singing about his hula-hoop. We had just about recovered when the bedroom door suddenly swung open, revealing my girlfriend. She seemed to have a disappointed look on her face when she saw that the only thing that Lori and I were doing was talking. "I thought for sure I was going to find you in here with Slave," said Traci. I was fairly certain Traci would not have said that if there had been anyone close by to overhear her, but I still felt a little nervous with her talking about Slave so loudly. Lori on the other hand just let out a chuckle and said, "Actually, I was horny when I came in here, but Chad helped me get over it." She then turned to me, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the bedroom. I moved over to Traci and shut the door. Taking her in my arms I said, "Didn't I make a promise to you that I wouldn't do anything sexual with anybody unless you were present?" Traci wrinkled her cute button nose and nodded. I gave her a soft kiss, and the two of us left the bedroom holding hands. When we reached the living room, we parted: I joined the card game that had started at the breakfast table, and Traci went out to the backyard. There had been enough interest in cards that there were two games going on. The one upstairs at the poker table was for the more serious players. A game of No Limit Texas Hold Em' was being played up there, whereas a less-serious game of dealers choice was being played downstairs. When nine rolled around, I cut the music feed to the backyard from the kitchen's intercom console. Every dozen or so hands, I would get up and circulate, making sure nothing was getting out of hand. I noticed that both Marge and Jean were also making their presence known, but were also doing a good job of not making it totally obvious. As midnight approached, about two-thirds of the guests took up on the offer to stay over, so Chuck, Bill, and Mike helped me retrieve the half-dozen futons from the garage storage room. After moving aside the coffee table, we were able to fit three futons in the living room. The other three we started to set up in the study until Lori asked if we would take one of them up to her room. Mike assisted me in carrying the futon up to the room, then joined the poker game in the game room after completing that task. I headed back to the kitchen to join the game down there. It was a little past one when we finally ended the game of cards at the breakfast table. There were still a few people still up, so I made one final circuit. Nick and Susan were the only two outside in the hot tub, and after they promised to keep the noise level down, I said goodnight to them. When I checked up in the game room, I saw that their number had dwindled down to four. Mike had the largest pile of chips in front of him, and I warned the other three that they would be better off just calling it a night. "Hey, why don't you mind your own business and just go to bed," joked Mike. "Sounds good, think I'll go do that," and with that, I went downstairs and headed to the master bedroom. When I entered my bedroom, a nude Traci practically jumped me. She flung herself into my arms and kissed me with such passion that I took an involuntary step back. There had been a few times that Traci had been aggressive when it came to our lovemaking, but for the life of me, I could not figure what had gotten into her. We broke our kiss briefly while she pulled my tee shirt off me, but her lips found mine as soon as the fabric had cleared my head. Grinding herself against my pelvis, she felt the reaction that was occurring in my loins. Her hands moved down to my jeans and quickly opened my pants. Once my member was exposed, she broke our kiss and sank to her knees. I was semi-hard when her lips made contact with my cock, but thanks to her talented mouth, it was only a short while later that I was at full mast. Once she noticed that I was fully erect, she pulled away and finished stripping me out of my jeans. Once I was fully naked, she practically dragged me to our bed and pushed me on my back. I do not think my head had made contact with the bed before she hopped on, as well. She quickly crawled on top of me and straddled my torso. She used her hand to guide my member into her opening and started her descent. It was a good thing that Traci's saliva had lubricated my cock, because while her pussy was wet, it was not as wet as it usually was. That thought quickly left my mind as she began to slowly rock herself upon my cock. As she started to work up her pace, she began to moan. Her moans grew so loud that, for the briefest of moments, I thought that it was Rose who was on me instead of my girlfriend. It was at that point that she began to add words to her loud moans. "Yes, Chad! Ohhh, yes, Chad! Fuck me like that! Fuck me harder, Chad!" I started to comply with my girlfriend's demands and began to match her descents with thrusts of my own, when it occurred to me what was going on. It hit me like a ton of bricks why Traci had been so insistent that Fran stay in her room that evening. At first, I was amused, but that emotion was swiftly replaced with anger the more that I thought about it. I was working myself towards full-out rage when I realized I had three choices: I could fuck Traci while I was mad, slip into agent mode and let all emotion leave my body, or end it. I chose the last option. I pulled Traci down and rolled over so that she was on her back. I then dismounted her and got out of the bed. I had reached my pants by the time she had recovered enough to figure out that something was amiss. "Chad, why did you stop?" asked Traci. I was reining in my anger as I donned my pants. It was a little painful, since my cock had no idea why it was being taken away from its familiar home, especially since it had not accomplished its mission. When I finished buttoning my pants, I strode over to the bedside table to retrieve my cigarette case and lighter. As calmly as I could, I announced, "I'm going outside to have a cigarette." I must have been orey-eyed, because while there was no trace of anger in my voice, Traci recoiled slightly when our gazes met. I quickly turned and vacated the room before I did anything else that I would be sorry for. When I reached the end of the hallway, I had the choice of going out either to the backyard or front. Since the only access to the backyard meant going through the living room (possibly disturbing slumbering guests), I chose the front. Since I had so many houseguests over, it had made sense to leave the burglar alarm unarmed, so I did not have to stop and hassle with it now. I quietly let myself out and walked onto the lawn, quickly lighting up a cigarette as I did. I took a deep drag off my cigarette and held my breath for ten seconds, letting the nicotine work its way from my lungs and into my bloodstream. As I slowly exhaled the smoke through my nostrils, I felt the calming effect of the drug. I knew that part of my anger was fueled by my nicotine withdrawal. The rationing of my last pack seemed to just prolong the constant irritation that I had started to feel building up. The two menthols that I had smoked earlier had not helped matters, at all. Not only were they menthol, but they were menthol FUCKING ultra-lights. Hell, I could have gotten a better buzz off of sucking on an empty tube instead of off of those. Each puff of the cigarette seemed to drain the anger that I was feeling away, and I began to calmly reflect what had unsettled me. Traci knew that I did not like to advertise that she 'belonged' to me, yet she bought the silly letterman's jacket just so that she could wear it, branding herself as my property. Then, that evening, she insisted that Fran sleep in her room, and then proceeded to howl like a banshee, once again trying to establish that I 'owned' her. It stuck me then that it was not so much me 'owning' her as her trying to say that she 'owned' me. Traci was, after all, an insecure fourteen-year-old girl. I had not helped matters by my constant teasing of her, and if anybody was at fault for that night's debacle, it was me. Just because Traci would sometimes show considerable maturity for someone as young as she was, it did not mean that she was constantly wise beyond her years. She was prone to the same fears and troubles that all teenagers faced. I had just about finished my cigarette when I heard the front door quietly open. I took one final drag and flicked it at the mailbox twenty-five feet away. I watched in satisfaction as the embers burst like a firework as it hit the back of the mailbox. I turned around and faced a timid Traci. She had donned her bathrobe, and I could see the tear streaks even with the distance between us. I quickly moved to her and took her in my arms. I apologized over and over as I held her in my arms. Her warm tears fell along my bare chest and through her sobs she apologized to me. After a short while, she was able to compose herself and removed her head from my chest. She looked up at me and asked, "What did I do wrong?" I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and said, "Nothing, Love. It was completely my fault. I was an asshole for storming out of the bedroom without telling you what had angered me." "But what pissed you off?" We were standing on the front door stoop, so I took her hand and guided her to the step. I sat down and pulled her into my lap. I held my arms around her waist and explained, "I was angry that you felt it necessary that we put on a performance. Upon thinking about it, I realized that it was my fault that you felt that it was something that you needed to do." Traci shrugged and asked, "So what if Fran could hear us? You didn't have a problem putting on a show last week." I gave Traci a smile and said, "Well, for starters, the show that I put on with your mom was for your benefit. Fran and Joey don't need to hear us fucking." A surprised look crossed Traci's face. Apparently, in her haste of making sure that Fran was sleeping in her room, she had neglected to see whom, if anybody, was sleeping in my sister's room, which was also adjacent to the master bedroom. Once she had recovered from that revelation, she said, "I still don't know what the big deal is." I gave Traci another smile and kissed her temple before explaining, "Hon, you know that Fran has never dated anybody. As far as I know, she is still a virgin. Yet, you wanted her to hear us fucking. Can you imagine how much embarrassment that would cause her? Fran has done nothing to you to deserve that. In fact, I think she has been going out of her way trying to become friends with you. If you feel the need to punish somebody, punish me. I'm the one who has constantly made you jealous of Fran. I've always found your misplaced jealously amusing and went out of my way to make you even more so. I see now what a mistake that was." "So you got upset because I wanted her to hear us?" Traci asked after a moment of silence. "Mostly. I guess I also did not like that I was being used. Whenever you and I make love, have sex, or even just fuck, I want it to have some meaning. The fact that you did not tell me beforehand about your little plan made me feel like I was just a tool and that any hard dick would have sufficed." "And if I had told you about my plan?" "Then I would have had a chance to talk you out of it. My Love, Fran knows that you and I sleep together. I am sure that on the tour of the house that you made that point quite clear to her." I waited for a moment and took the fact that she did not protest as meaning that I was correct before I continued on. "I also know that I have no sexual desire for Fran, and I am fairly certain that she feels the same about me. Sure, we flirt and tease each other, but that is as far as it will ever go." Traci said, "I hear you say that, but a small part of me keeps telling me that I have to watch out for her." "Well, that small part of you that keeps telling you that has been fueled by my stupid digs and jokes. That is why I am no longer mad at you. If I should be upset with anybody, it should me, since it was my constant joking about Fran that led up to tonight. From now on, I'll stop teasing you about Fran and will use Susan, instead. After all, she looks damn hot in a bikini." Traci let out a snort and shook her head. Susan Ramirez could be considered the Hispanic version of Fran. She was tall, had a beautiful face, an athletic body, and small breasts. There was a hint of a smile when Traci suggested, "I think Mrs. Sorenson would be a better choice." Ciannait Sorenson was the substitute dance instructor who took over our classes when Ms. McCann was out with the flu for a week last month. Mrs. Sorenson did posses a fine athletic body due to her many years of dance, but she was in her sixties. Traci felt the involuntary shudder that passed through my body as the image of Mrs. Sorenson wearing a micro-bikini flashed in my mind, and she began to laugh. She laughed harder when I said, "Hey, you wouldn't be laughing if you just imagined her wearing a string bikini." As Traci's laughter died down I said, "As penance, I'll let you wear my letterman's jacket for a week." Traci quickly replied, "Starting Tuesday." I blinked and asked, "Why starting on Tuesday?" Traci grinned and pointed out, "Because there is no school on Monday." "Okay," I relented. "Starting Tuesday." Traci gave me a serious look and asked, "Why? Why all of the sudden are you going to let me wear your jacket? You detested the thought of me wearing it, before." "Well, two reasons. One, I came to realize that it was not so much me marking you as my 'property', but more along the lines of you marking me, something that I am quite okay with. The second reason is because I did something tonight that I swore to myself that I would never do: I caused the person that I love more than anything in the whole world pain. If allowing you to wear some silly jacket can make some amends, then it is a trivial price to pay." I felt Traci shiver slightly, and I was unsure if it was from my words or from the night air. It was then that I realized how cold it was. When I came outside, my anger had provided me with enough warmth that I did not realize how chilly it was in my barefoot and topless state. I moved my left arm that was around Traci's waist and slipped it under her legs while sliding my right arm up her back. Traci's arms instinctually wrapped around my neck as I stood up; a small squeal of surprise escaped from her lips at the sudden movement. I fumbled slightly with the doorknob, but I was able to open the door without too much difficultly. After I carried Traci across the threshold, I set her down in the foyer. I was afraid that there might have been a few people still awake, and I did not want to make any more of a scene. After making sure that the door was locked, Traci and I walked hand-in-hand down to our room. When we reached our room, I started to let go of Traci's hand and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth when Traci surprised me and pulled on my arm. I turned to face her and was greeted with a passionate kiss. I was shocked when Traci did not break the kiss upon tasting the aftereffects of my cigarette. Our tongues dueled for what seemed like an eternity, and when we broke the kiss, she clasped my hands and tugged me towards the bed. Picking up on the clue, I aborted my oral hygiene mission and stripped off my pants as I made my way to the bed. I met a now-nude Traci in the middle of the bed, and we resumed our usual spooning positions. I held her a little harder than normal, as if trying to convey how much I loved her through the embrace. We quietly lay there, savoring the warmth of our bodies, until Traci began to wiggle her sexy, taut little ass. She let out a soft giggle when she felt the reaction she caused. When I was smoking my cigarette, my erection had finally died down. The kiss that we had shared seemed to have partially reawakened it, and her gyrations only speeded up its recovery. As I tried to pull back my hips, Traci pressed back, trying to maintain contact. "Please, Chad, can we continue where we left off? I promise to keep quiet." Instead of verbally answering her, I shifted my hips back to where they were and began to nibble on Traci's neck. I shifted my hands along her body until I was cupping her delightful breasts. My hands began to fondle her breasts as my nibbles worked their way up to her earlobe. Traci, in turn, brought her hands up and placed them over mine as she continued to rub her ass against my manhood. After a few minutes of that, I removed my left hand from her breast and brought two fingers up to her lips. Traci sucked the fingers into her mouth, running her tongue all around them. Once they were coated with saliva, I removed the fingers from her mouth and brought them down to her sex. Unlike previously, this time I found the familiar wetness that I was accustomed to. Traci's soft moans began to grow more frequent as I began to rub my slick fingers along her even slicker pussy. I then pressed down right above her hooded clit and began to slowly rub my fingers in a small circle. Traci reached back with her left arm and began to fumble around for my cock. I had a feeling of what she wanted, so I took my left hand away from its task and used it to guide my manhood into her blissfully warm and tight opening. Once I got my cockhead situated into her moist channel, I slowly eased my hips forward, trying to fill her with one stroke. Traci started to let out a loud moan but quickly grabbed her pillow and stuffed it in her face. It was so comical, the way that she was trying to keep from making too much noise this time, that I began to giggle silently. Traci moaned even more as the vibrations from my giggling traveled from my body into hers via our connection. Once I was able to get myself under control, I began to slowly make love to my girlfriend. Traci's right hand was covering mine, so it came as no surprise that when I positioned my left hand back to her clit that her other hand joined mine. I tried to keep a slow and casual pace, and only increased my tempo at Traci's urging. As much as I wanted us to climax at the same time, it was Traci who came first. It was while she was coming down from her orgasm that my seed spilled into her, with me muttering that 'I love you' repeatedly. I held my girlfriend close to me as I felt my cock begin to soften. When I started to pull my hips back, Traci felt my movement and protested, "Please, leave it in me. I want to feel you in me as long as possible." I kissed her neck in response and left myself inside of her. The long day (especially our argument) had taken its toll upon the two of us, and we both drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter. ------- Chapter 24 Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead. - Ben F. It appeared that Traci and I had become uncoupled during the early hours on Monday morning. When I awoke, I was on my back and alone in the bed. After I yawned and stretched, one of the first things that I noticed was that my genitals were not sticky. I lifted up the sheets and confirmed that I was surprisingly clean. I had expected the combined juices of our lovemaking to have caused some discomfort in the morning. It appeared that while I had been sleeping, my love fetched a washcloth and cleaned off my nether region. My cock twitched slightly at the thought of her using her talented tongue to bathe me instead of a washcloth, but I knew that I was far too clean for it to have been her mouth (at least, not her mouth alone). I got up and went into the master bathroom. After a very satisfying piss, I decided that a quick shower would be wise. I do not think more than five minutes passed from when I entered the shower and when I exited. I then thoroughly brushed my teeth and went into my walk-in closet. I opted for a polo shirt and khakis (which meant I also had to wear underwear) and after finishing getting dressed, I headed to the kitchen. When I entered the kitchen, I found Traci, Pollyanna, and Fran making breakfast. When Traci spotted me, she rushed over to give me a kiss. I think the conversation we had about not rubbing our relationship in other people's faces was still fresh in her mind because it was a somewhat tame one. When we broke our kiss, I kept her in my arms and inquired, "Where's Rose?" "Why?" asked Fran, "Do you usually get the same treatment from her, as well?" Picking up on Fran's joking question, Pollyanna said, "He had better not or this will happen." She then took the knife that she had been using to slice a carrot with, brought it high into the air, then quickly brought it back down, chopping the carrot into two. I could not help but to wince in sympathy for the poor defenseless carrot. I think my balls were starting to drop back down when Traci said, "Pollyanna Huntington, if you 'Bobbit' my boyfriend, I'll never forgive you." All three girls laughed while I tried to figure out what 'Bobbit' had to do with chopping off one's penis. Pollyanna finally answered my original question, "Today's Monday, so Mrs. Caspar drove Rose to Albertsons." I nodded in understanding. Rose was convinced that the reduced price bakery selections at the grocery store were more bountiful during the weekdays instead of the weekend. A week ago, Rose had made plans with Lori to hit the store Monday morning, but it appeared that Rose asked Marge to take Lori's place. "Anything I can do to help?" I asked. "Nah, we have it under control," said Traci. "Why don't you go sit down and have a cup of tea or go outside for a smoke?" I blinked at Traci in surprise. Her words were not lost on Pollyanna, either; she stopped her slicing and turned to look at her friend in disbelief. Fran, despite the fact that she had been unaware that I smoked, did not seem to think it was that big of a deal that my girlfriend was suggesting that I have a cigarette. I wondered if Traci figured out that part of the argument that we had had was fueled by nicotine withdrawal or if she just wanted to keep me happy. I gave my beloved a quick kiss on the nose and said, "I think I'll just have a cup of tea." I let go of my girlfriend and started to move towards the hot water pitcher when she stopped me and nudged me towards the breakfast nook. Traci said, "I'll get it. You just sit down and relax." Fran watched in amusement as Traci fawned all over me. I doubted that Traci was aware that she was doing it, but I did not stop her. She seemed so happy trying to appease me, that I did not want to spoil it. I had just about drunk half a cup of tea when Mike came into the kitchen. "How did you do?" I asked my Japanese-American friend. He grinned and answered, "Cleaned them out. I doubt they'll ever play with me again." He joined me at the breakfast nook, and Traci brought him a cup of coffee. Mike had stayed the night plenty of times before, so she knew his morning preference without having to ask. After Mike took a swig, he asked me, "Who all's here this morning?" I shrugged. Pollyanna answered Mike's question, instead. "Besides us, there's Chuck, Michelle, her mom, Lori, Vicky, and I think Jenny. Mrs. Caspar and Rose should be getting back shortly. I am pretty sure everybody else left early this morning, but I could be wrong." "Should I get out the leaves for the breakfast table, or should we eat in the dining room?" I asked. "Neither," replied Traci. "I think you can fit a couple more chairs at the table without having to open it up, and the remaining people can eat at the kitchen's island counter." "Breakfast sure smells good, Rose," Chuck said as he came into the kitchen. He drew to an abrupt stop when he did not spot the redhead and asked, "Where's Rose?" "Why?" asked Fran, "Does she run up to you and kiss you in the morning, too?" Chuck stood there confused, while the three girls all began to chuckle. He joined Mike and I at the table, and I filled him in on Rose's whereabouts. Traci poured Chuck a cup of tea, but Fran intercepted her and brought the mug to Chuck. Before she handed him the cup, she asked, "Just how often to you stay over here?" Chuck shrugged and answered, "I don't know. I guess maybe three or four times since we started playing poker." "Why didn't you tell me about it? Maybe I might have wanted to play." I came to my friend's rescue and said, "It's my fault, Fran. I didn't want word to get around school that I was living alone and asked everybody to keep my housing situation on the low-down. Now that the Caspars and Rose live here, it's not that big of deal anymore, but Chuck was only keeping his promise to me." The explanation seemed to satisfy Fran, so she nodded. When she went back to dicing potatoes and was out of earshot, Chuck leaned towards me and muttered, "Thanks, Chad." "No worries," I replied in an equally low tone. It looked like Chuck was going to say something else when we all heard the sound of the automatic garage door opening. I got up from the table and went into the garage. When I reached Marge's car, she turned off the ignition and got out along with Rose. Rose had a wide grin on her face and appeared giddy with excitement. I discovered the source of her mirth when Marge opened the trunk. "Sut mine rådne løg", I said. "Didn't you just go shopping Saturday morning?" "Yeah, but I hit the mother lode today. I have something to ask you after we bring all this in," said Rose. When I brought in the first four sacks of groceries, Chuck and Mike scrambled to help with the rest. It only took us a couple more trips to gather up all of the purchases, mainly piling them on the kitchen counters so that Rose could put them away in their proper places. After Rose had turned on the oven and put some cinnamon rolls that she had bought on a cookie sheet to heat up, she came over to the table, content to let Traci, Fran, and her girlfriend finish up breakfast. Marge had joined Mike, Chuck and I at the table, and Rose pulled up a seat next to Marge. "Chad, can I buy a deep freezer? I think I can get a used one for under a hundred dollars, either by searching the classifieds or stopping by the thrift shops. It would pay for itself if I am able to buy things in bulk and freeze them, instead of what we are currently doing." Rose gave a disappointed look when I shook my head. "No, I don't want you buying a used freezer. I'll go ahead and buy a new one since it would be more energy efficient than an old used one." Rose started to protest, but Marge overrode her by loudly correcting me, "WE will buy a new one, since it will apply to everybody." "I insist on paying for a third since it was my idea," Rose stubbornly said. Mike and Chuck looked at Rose in surprise at her willingness to pay for an appliance, but Marge and I knew it was a lost cause to try to talk her out of it. Slightly uncomfortable talking about financial matters in front of my friends, I asked "Anything else?" "Just two more things," Rose quickly replied, emboldened by the knowledge that we were getting a deep freezer. "I want to get a Costco membership and a subscription to the Central Coast Times." "You don't need one," pointed out Marge. "I have a membership and Lori's on it, too, so either one of us can drive you down to Costco whenever you want to go." Rose looked at Marge in such disbelief, it took her a few seconds to recover. "How come the two of you never told me that you had memberships?" Marge shrugged and said, "I guess it slipped my mind." Costco was a warehouse store that sold bulk items. It required an annual membership fee to be able to shop there, and I had considered getting a membership once I got my driver's license. As for the newspaper subscription, I was unsure what Rose wanted that for so I asked, "Why do you want to subscribe to the Central Coast Times?" "Coupons and grocery ads," answered Rose. "I know I could just look at their ads online, but it would be much easier to look through them on paper. Also, there are more coupons in the newspaper than I can get online." I nodded in understanding and said, "Okay, but I-," at Marge's glare, I quickly amended myself, "We will pay for it." Rose grinned wide and said, "Too late! I already paid for the subscription. It will start on Wednesday." "Oh," I returned the smile and asked, "What if I had objected to the slaughter of poor trees just so that we can save a few bucks in groceries?" Rose rolled her eyes at my stupid argument and said, "Then I would have cancelled the subscription, and you would be none the wiser." "If ya'll done yapping, the grub's ready," Fran announced in a Southern accent. I had heard enough stories from Fran and Chuck to recognize that Fran was imitating Chuck's grandma. Chuck just rolled his eyes at his sister's shenanigans. Pollyanna began to set the table, and Rose went off to see if anybody else was hungry. I retrieved a couple of chairs from the dining room and brought them to the kitchen table. When Traci returned, Michelle and Jean followed her in; less than a minute later, Lori, Vicky, and Jenny joined us. It appeared that the three breakfast preparers had planned to eat at the island in the kitchen and have everybody else settle around the table. Everybody commented on how good the breakfast was; the warm cinnamon rolls were a nice touch. We all chatted about various things while we ate, but it was towards the end of the meal when I heard Vicky ask Lori if she had any plans for the day. "Sorry, I'm afraid I do," Lori told her friend. "No problem," replied Vicky. "I gathered you might be all tied up today." I picked up on Vicky's choice of words and glanced at Lori. From her reaction, she too had noticed the particular phrase, though it appeared that she had not told her friends about her most recent developments. I shrugged it off as thinking too much and continued eating. When I finished my breakfast, I got up and took my dishes to the sink. When I started to fill the sink with hot water to wash the dishes, the breakfast girls protested, but I put up a stout resistance. When they saw that I was not going to relent on doing my part of the cleaning, they gave up. Traci joined me and helped by drying and putting away the dishes. It reminded me of the early days of when I had first moved in, and it was something that I pointed out to Traci. She gave me a grin at that. Feeling devilish, when I finished the dishes, instead of drying my hands with a dishcloth, I took Traci in my arms and gave her a tender kiss. She purred in reply -- until she felt my wet hands using the back of her shirt to dry them. She then broke the kiss and playful pushed me away. We were both smiling at each other, the fight that we had gone through long forgotten. Traci and I went into the living room, where we found everybody except Vicky and Jenny. Apparently, the two cheerleaders had taken their leave while I was busy with the dishes. Chuck had loaded up Azumanga Daioh in the DVD player so that Fran could see the reference we were making the previous day. Because the otakus were outnumbered, I gathered that was the reason why they were watching it with the English dub. I winced slightly at some of the dialogue, though I knew I was being a snob. ADV, the company that released Azumanga Daioh in the US, liked to reuse the same voice talent on different projects, but I could not help but think that some of their choices were not the best. Jean saw me enter the living room and tilted her head towards the backyard. I smiled and shook my head, to which she nodded before getting up and going outside alone. Traci gave me a puzzled look, but I just smiled at her. I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her against me as we watched the anime. Everybody seemed to enjoy the cute show, but I knew that there were a few in the room, besides myself, who would have enjoyed it better if it was in the original Japanese and had subtitles, instead. Then again, it was always a pleasure to expose our hobby to those who have not seen it before, so watching it dubbed was a small price to pay. When the DVD was over, Chuck, Fran and Mike decided that they should head home. After walking them to the door, I returned to the living room and sat down in a vacated chair. Traci joined me by sitting sideways on my lap, her legs draped over the armrest and her right arm around my neck. My left arm wrapped around her waist while my right hand rested on one of her knees. I looked around the room: Marge was sitting in her late husband's favorite chair, with Jean standing next to her; the two ladies were talking about our upcoming trip. Rose and Pollyanna were mimicking Traci and I, Pollyanna sitting upon Rose's lap, but her feet were stretched out on the couch and ended up resting on the thighs of Michelle, who was sitting besides them. Lori was sitting at the other end of the couch. I decided that it was a good time to resume my slave's training. "Slave," I said, switching to 'Master' mode, "bring me your journal." I think one could have heard a pin drop on the living room carpet as the room drew immediately silent. Traci had flinched slightly. While I had not spoken very loud, my voice had lost all traces of warmth in it. Perhaps it reminded her of how I spoke in the bedroom when I was angry. The flinch only lasted an instant, though, before I felt Traci relax again. Slave, on the other hand, was anything but relaxed. "Master, I haven't written anything since you read it yesterday morning." I frowned and asked, "What is rule number two?" "I am responsible for keeping a daily journal covering, at a minimum, my significant activities and thoughts for each day, as well as all activities directed by Master and all thoughts related to my training or sexuality. The journal shall be kept in a form that can be shared with my master on a daily basis," Slave quickly replied. After a few seconds, she quickly added, "Master." The sound of a quiet clapping caused me to look for the source. Jean stood there, grinning, and was lightly tapping her fingers against her other palm in what was called a 'golfer's applause'. I gave her a small smile before turning my attention to Slave. "Well, it seems that you earned yourself a little punishment. Still, I want you to bring your journal to me. Maybe I'll have you read it aloud as entertainment for my guests." "Yes, Master," and Slave quickly got off the couch and practically ran out of the room. When she returned, it was at a much subdued pace. When I saw fear on her face, I knew something was wrong. Slave was practically trembling when she handed me her journal. I managed to open it up with one hand and spotted what had upset Slave so much. I passed it to Traci and said, "This is the reason why I didn't want to take pictures or videotape Slave." Traci gave me a puzzled look and began to read the page that I had it opened to. I pointed to the last sentence. Instead of black or blue ink, it was written in red and was in a different handwriting: "Very kinky! Thanks for the wonderful story." ------- "Lori," I said softly. When she did not reply, I repeated myself louder, "Lori!" It took a few seconds for Lori to return and, when she did, tears started to build up. "I'm so sorry, Chad! I hid it. I don't know how somebody found it." "Lori, relax. It's not the end of the world. First off, do you recognize the handwriting?" Lori sniffed and said, "I think it might be Vicky's, but I'm not sure." I nodded my head and replied, "Makes sense. Especially with her little comment about you being 'all tied up'." "Oh man! I thought for a moment that I had misheard her at breakfast. She did say that, didn't she?" "What's going on?" Marge asked. Seeing her eldest daughter so distraught made her worried. "It seems that Vicky, and possibly Jenny, read Slave's journal," I answered. I then asked Lori, "Do you know Vicky's home number?" "I think I might have it written down somewhere. I have her cell number in mine," Lori answered. I did not enjoy talking to people about sensitive matters over the phone, even cell phones. Even calling Vicky's house would be risky. There was nothing to prevent her from answering on a cordless phone, and those were even worse than cell ones. Traci had wanted to hook up the Caspar's 900 MHz cordless phone when they had moved in and had thought I was being silly when I pointed out how easily it was to listen in on it. Bill had an old handheld scanner, and he leant it to me so that I could demonstrate how easy it was to do. After that, Traci ended up talking her mom into buying a 5.8 GHz one, but I still refused to use it. After mulling over my options, I said "Actually, I think it would be better for you and me to visit her in person." Lori nodded and ran upstairs to change. She was still wearing pajamas and had not bothered to change, most likely expecting to spend the remainder of the day sans clothing. I gave my girlfriend an apologetic smile and asked if she could move so I could get up. Once she cleared my lap and I was standing, she asked, "Do you want me to come along?" I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and said, "Love, I always WANT you along with me, but I think in this instance, it would be better if your sister and I went alone." I turned my attention to everybody else and said, "I'm sorry about this, but I think it best if we nip this in the bud rather quickly." Jean nodded and said, "I don't know if I'll be here when you two get back. I have to pick up Scott at the airport in a couple of hours." Jean then turned her attention to her daughter and asked, "You want to stay here? Dad and I can pick you up later." "No," replied Michelle, "I'll go with you. It has been over a week since I've seen Dad." "Well, if we're not back in time, I'll see you at school tomorrow," I said to Michelle, "And I guess I might see you next week," I said to Jean. Jean nodded and I headed to the staircase. When Lori came down, the two of us went outside to her car. She fumbled with the keys trying to get them into the ignition when I reached out and grabbed a hold of her hand. "Lori, relax. It is not the end of the world. We will go over, talk to Vicky and find out how many people know about the journal." Lori took a deep breath and let out a slow cleansing exhalation. She was no longer shaking as she inserted the keys into the ignition and started the car. When we backed up on Evergreen Lane, she seemed to be in control of her emotions. Lori drove in silence as I formulated a plan on how to handle Vicky. I did not know all that much about the black-haired cheerleader. I figured my best chance of convincing Vicky not to tell others about what she read would be the ramifications that it would cause Lori. It was still trying to figure out what exactly to say to her when Lori pulled up in front of a very nice house. When Lori looked over at me, I tried to give her the most reassuring smile I could, and the two of us got out of the car. When we reached the door, I rang the doorbell. When Vicky opened the door, she did not seem too surprised to see us. "Hey, guys! I was just about to go to Pine Street Park. You two want to follow me there?" Lori was caught off guard slightly, so I replied for the both of us. "Sure, we can do that, right Lori?" "Yeah, we'll follow you," my friend said after she was able to recover herself. Vicky grinned and said, "I'll just be a minute. I just need to grab some of Al's toys and I'll be out." Lori and I nodded, then we headed back to her car. Once we got inside, I asked, "Who is Al?" "Oh, that's her little brother, Albert. I think he is four or five." True to Vicky's word, she and a little tyke came out of the house and went to her car. Besides carrying a small duffle bag, she also had a child's car seat. The ease that she was able to set up the car seat made me think that she had done it plenty of times before. As she backed out of her driveway, Lori started the car and pulled out behind them as they started down the street. Pine Street Park was only five blocks away, but I guessed it would seem an eternity when walking with a four- or five-year-old boy. We parked next to Vicky, and I volunteered to carry the bag while the four of us made our way to one of the park's benches. When we sat down at the bench, Vicky began rummaging through the bag until she found what she was looking for. She drew out a device that looked like an oversized wristwatch. She strapped it to her sibling's wrist and asked him, "What do you do if a stranger tries to take you away from here?" "I yell NO and pull this," Al said, pointing to a little ring on the wristband. "Very good," replied Vicky. "Remember," she added, "I don't want you going anyplace where I can't see you. If you can't see my face, then you need to move until you can, got it?" Al nodded, and when Vicky smiled, he turned and ran off. Vicky made sure she was sitting so that she was facing the playground equipment that Al had run towards. After making sure that he was okay, she shifted her attention briefly to us and explained, "Mom and Dad are overprotective of their little prince. You see, I have two older sisters, and they really wanted to have a son. It came as a surprise to them when Mom got pregnant with Al, and they were ecstatic when the ultrasound showed that it was going to be a boy." There was no trace of jealousy in her voice; if anything, it was almost proud when she added, "They let me babysit him when they need to go out. They don't mind if I take him to the park, but they insist that he wear that LoJack. Not only does it make a lot of noise when he pulls that cord, it has a GPS unit on it so that they can see where he is. I think when I was his age, Mom and Dad let me go to the park by myself, but I guess a lot has changed in thirteen years." Vicky watched Al for another minute, making sure that he was safe and that there were no suspicious people lurking about, before turning her full attention towards us. "I guess you saw that I wrote in your notebook." "Yes," breathed Lori anxiously. "How did you find it?" Vicky smiled and said, "I wasn't snooping or anything, I promise. It was just that I had left my hair tie down by the pool and forgot to bring a spare. You and Jenny were already asleep, so I opened the drawer where I knew you kept yours. I saw the notebook underneath your underwear, and it really piqued my interest. Before I knew it, I had pulled it out and started reading it. I swear, once I realized that it might be real, I wanted to put it back, but I couldn't and ended up reading the whole thing. Man, if I hadn't been lying next to Jenny, I swear that I would have jilled myself off." "Did Jenny see it?" Lori asked, trying hard to mask the panic in her voice. Vicky smiled at her friend and shook her head. "No, I didn't show it to her, and I won't tell anybody about it, unless..." Vicky's voice trailed off, and I noticed her attention shift from us. I turned to see Al pull himself up off the ground. Apparently, he had tripped and fell, but he seemed fine as he got to his feet. I turned back to Vicky to see her looking directly at me as she continued what she had been saying. "I won't tell anybody unless I think Chad is blackmailing you or something like that." "What! Chad would never do that!" protested Lori. "I had to practically beg him to let me become his slave." I kept my expression neutral and matched Vicky's gaze. Her eyes did not leave mine as she asked, "Why didn't you tell me about it, Lori?" "I was embarrassed. I mean, it's not something that you bring up at a cheer slumber party. 'Hey guys, guess what? I like to be dominated and am into BDSM.' I mean, maybe Susan might say that, but could you picture me doing it? Anyhow, it was only in these past three months that I began to understand and accept these feelings." "And you encouraged it?" Vicky asked me. I smiled softly and said, "I noticed some things about Lori, and I confronted her about them. When I realized just how deep-seated they were, I offered to help her explore that side of her sexuality." "Why?" demanded Vicky. "Because," I answered, "I knew that if I didn't, somebody else would come along and possibly use it to exploit her. You have my word that Lori's wellbeing comes first and foremost." Vicky said, "Yeah, I read that." She broke her gaze with mine and looked over at her little brother before looking at Lori. "He didn't use mind control or hypnotism on you, did he?" Lori was struck speechless and blinked a few times before she gathered her wits. "Mind control?!?" "Yeah, he didn't show you a PDA with flashing lights or have you wear any strange rings, did he?" asked Vicky. "What the hell have you been reading, Vick? There is no such thing as mind control! And, no, Chad has never hypnotized me." Vicky grinned at her Lori and said, "Okay, then I guess I'll stay quiet. I was just kidding with that last question. You looked so funny when I asked it." Lori rolled her eyes, and Vicky turned her attention back to me after making sure Al was okay. "So, are you going to punish her for breaking rule number eleven?" Vicky asked with a grin. "Rule eleven is no modifications to her body, so I am guessing you mean rule number twelve, about maintaining secrecy. Hmm, I guess so. I think that Slave will be getting a spanking," I said. Vicky said, "You must spank her well, and after you are done with her, you may deal with her as you like... and then... spank me." I think my face must have mirrored Lori's when Vicky had asked about mind control. I think I was able to recover more quickly and replied, "Yes. Yes, you must give us all a good spanking." Vicky grinned and said, "And after the spanking, the oral sex." I matched her grin and came back with, "Well I could stay a bit longer..." Lori looked back at forth at us as if we had lost our minds. We both chuckled and I asked, "How do you know Monty Python?" "What, a cheerleader can't know Monty Python?" "Well, no, not well enough that she can quote it." Vicky shrugged and said, "I dated a guy who had me watch all their films, and I sort of fell in love with them." Upon hearing this, Lori seemed to instantly snap out of her confusion and focused on what Vicky had just said. "Who did you date?" "Druce Vogal," Vicky said after a moment's pause. "What!" exclaimed Lori, "When did you date dwee... Druce?" Vicky frowned slightly at Lori's unintentional slip. Druce Vogal was a senior that made the otakus look like Greek Gods in comparison. In fact, if Druce had any interest in anime, he would have most likely made his way into our little circle. Instead, he spent most of his time ostracized from the rest of the school, except for a few people that he would sometimes eat lunch with. 'Dweeb' was the common nickname for him, and it would not have surprised me at all if I had heard him quote Monty Python. "DRUCE and I dated sophomore and junior years," said Vicky, with a slight warning tone in her voice. Lori was dumbstruck and tried to comprehend what she had just heard. I took it as a chance to probe further. "Why did the two of you break up?" Shifted her gaze from Lori to watch Al as she replied, "Oh it was over a stupid argument. We started off debating who was the best Dr. Who, and it blew up with who we thought was the best Star Trek captain. Actually, I think we both used the argument as an excuse. Druce always felt that I was ashamed of him, and I guess he was right." "Why didn't you tell me?" Lori said, finally recovering from her friend's revelation. Vicky shrugged and said, "Because I figured you would tease me." "No, I wouldn't have!" Vicky shifted her gaze from her brother to Lori, raising her eyebrow to give Lori a questioning look. After a moment, Lori had the grace to blush and bobbing her head in surrender. "Okay, I might have teased you a little bit, but I would have kept my mouth shut." Vicky looked at Lori for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, knowing you, I bet you would have kept my secret. Anyway, you two have my word I won't say anything, unless I think Chad is abusing you, in which case I can't promise that I won't tell somebody." "Understood," I said. "Please, if you do think that, come and talk to me first." "No way, you'll use some Jedi mind trick on me and make me forget about it," Vicky joked. She grew serious and said, "Chad, if I think that you are hurting my friend, trust me, you will know about it." Al ran up to the table and wanted a certain toy. Vicky had to dig around for it, but was able to give the little tyke the toy he wanted. Al gave his big sister a hug before running back to the sandbox that he had been playing in. After a minute, Vicky asked, "So, you like the idea of being tied up?" "Yeah," admitted Lori, "I have not actually done it yet, but the idea excites me." "Yeah, Druce and I tried it once, but it ended up costing us a lot of money," Vicky said. Lori and I waited for Vicky to continue and when she did not, Lori said, "Aw, come on, you can't just say that without explaining." Vicky grew a little sheepish and asked, "You two promise, you won't say a word about what I'm going to say?" We nodded and she said, "Well, it happened at a Star Trek convention an--" "You went to a Star Trek convention?" asked Lori in disbelief. "And you let strangers cum on you?" Vicky mimicked Lori back. Lori grew red and protested, "Hey, it turned out it was just Chad." "You let your sister's boyfriend cum on you?" Vicky asked in mock disbelief. After Lori rolled her eyes, Vicky continued what she had been saying, "Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted, the two of us went to a con, and we thought we would try a little bondage in the hotel room. Druce tied me to the bed and had his way with me, and everything would have been fine except for our body paint. You see, I was dressed up as an Orion slave girl, and Druce was my Andorian master. When we were finished, the sheets were smeared blue and green. The hotel staff did not seem too surprised, though. They said next to the Porn conventions, it was the Star Trek ones that 'required replacement sheets the most'." I thought for a brief moment that she might have been pulling our legs, but the serious look in her eyes told me while she found the story humorous, that it was quite true. Deciding to throw all caution into the wind, I asked, "So, who IS the best Star Trek Captain?" "You have to ask? Sisko, of course! Druce said Archer, but everybody knows that Hawk could kick Sam Beckett's ass any day of the week, and twice on Sundays." ------- Chapter 25 "Fool me once, shame on - shame on you. Fool me - you can't get fooled again." - G. Bush On the way back from the park, Lori was still having trouble comprehending everything that Vicky had told her. It seemed as if she had never really known her friend. "I can't believe I never knew Vicky was such a geek," Lori said. I frowned slightly and said, "Maybe she didn't want to be labeled a geek. Sure, she might take her interests to the extreme, but calling her a geek might be a tad too much." "Chad, she quoted Monty Python!" "So? I did too. Does that automatically make me a geek?" I asked. Lori did not answer right away, so I tried again. "Does that make me a geek, Slave?" I asked, making sure to keep my Master persona out of my voice. Lori picked up my tone and chuckled. "No, you're just a freak. You memorize just about everything you see, so I wasn't surprised that you could recite Monty Python." "Seriously, though. Vicky was uncomfortable with others knowing about her interests. Sounds like Druce and her had something in common, but her fear of being 'discovered' broke their relationship." "If she is so afraid of other people knowing about her, why did she tell us?" pondered Lori. I shrugged and replied, "Well, I guess after she read the journal, she realized she was not the only one with a hidden life. Maybe she felt safe telling us because she knew that we would not tell anybody else." "You think she'll not tell anyone?" Lori asked. "Yeah, I think so. We both know something about the other that we don't want others to know. Actually, I am kinda relieved that one of your friends knows about it." "Why?" "Well," I answered, "you now have somebody to confide in, unless you and Vicky weren't that close to begin with." "Before today, I would have counted her as one of my closest friends, but the person I saw at the park was a different person." "Then you should consider yourself lucky. I am guessing that she does not show that side of her to many people. Lori, I think everybody has two sides: one that they show to the masses, and the other they show to a select few. Vicky stumbled upon your private side, and instead of making fun of you or telling others, she accepted it. She then invited you to see her private side." Lori thought about this as we pulled into the driveway. When she shut off the ignition, she did not move to get out, so neither did I. It was a minute after we had stopped before she asked, "Do you think I should invite her over to meet Slave?" I thought about her question for a moment before I asked, "Tell me, would you have fun if she invited you to a Star Trek convention?" Thinking that I was going to give her a yes or no answer, my question threw Lori. She had to think for a few seconds before replying, "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I would be with my friend, but that is a whole different world." "Exactly, it is a different world. So is BDSM. There are some who are attracted to some of the aspects of it, but then there are others who find any little thing about it repulsive. I think you need to talk with Vicky more to find out if she would want to meet Slave or not. One thing to remember: Vicky did admit that she found your journal quite enjoyable." Lori nodded and got out of the car. I got out and followed her to the door. She was about to open the door when I stopped her. "Lori, when we go inside, I want you to become Slave. She will remove her clothes in the foyer and go into the living room. She will then assume first position in front of the coffee table. Any questions?" Lori's expression lit up and asked, "How long do you think I will be Slave?" I grinned and said, "That's for me to know and for you to find out." I then thought about her question more and asked, "Why? Is there something that you need to do?" Lori shook her head vehemently, but her brow furrowed slightly, so I frowned. Seeing my reaction, she said, "Well, truth is that, with finals coming up, I was wanting to do some studying tonight." "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Hmm, so when you shook your head just now, you were not being honest with me. So, not only do I need to punish you for not writing in your journal and not maintaining secrecy, I have to punish you for that." Lori looked surprised, then quickly pointed out, "Hey, rule six isn't highlighted, and you're not my master right now." I grinned at her. "Just testing you. You ready?" Lori took in a deep breath and nodded. As soon as she passed through the doorway, she was no longer Lori, but Slave. Slave quickly unbuttoned the sundress she was wearing and let it fall to the ground. I had known that she had not been wearing a bra -- the sundress' material had made it quite clear she was not wearing that particular undergarment -- but I was surprised to see that she was also sans panties. Slave saw my reaction and smiled contently with the knowledge that I was pleased. She kicked off her sandals and strode from the foyer into the living room. Pollyanna and Rose were in the middle of a conversation, but they both grew quiet as they caught sight of the nude girl. Slave did not make eye contact with anybody in the living room, but quickly moved in front of the coffee table and sank down to her knees in first position. Once Slave was kneeling down, I entered the living room, as well. Marge was on one end of the couch, with Pollyanna and Rose sitting at the other. Traci was curled up on her father's chair, and while I could not see anybody else's faces, she had a wide grin on hers. I was not surprised to discover Jean and Michelle gone since Jean's minivan was gone. Pollyanna was the first to speak and asked, "Why is Lori naked?" Her lover informed her, "That's not Lori, that is Slave." I did not know how much information Rose had shared with Pollyanna about what had transpired on Saturday, but the fact that Pollyanna did not ask any more questions made me think that she had a little knowledge of what had happened. I sat down on the couch between Pollyanna and Marge. "Lori broke a couple of rules, so Slave will have to receive the punishment. Do you girls have any suggestions?" "What did she do wrong?" Pollyanna asked. I commanded, "Slave, tell Pollyanna why you need to be punished." Slave kept her eyes focused on the ground in front of her and said, "Lori broke rules two and twelve, Master's Maid's Lover." It took a second or two for Pollyanna to realize that Slave was addressing her. Pollyanna then asked, "Okay, what are rules two and twelve?" "Rule two states that I am responsible for keeping a daily journal covering, at a minimum, my significant activities and thoughts for each day, as well as all activities directed by Master and all thoughts related to my training or sexuality. The journal shall be kept in a form that can be shared with my master on a daily basis. Rule twelve states that secrecy must be maintained. The only time that Lori's status as a slave is to be revealed is when Master deems fit, Master's Maid's Lover." "Okay, why does she keep calling me that?" Pollyanna inquired. "Slave can only address people in relation to me. Since I had instructed her to call Rose 'Master's Maid', she took it upon herself to refer to you as she did. Would you prefer 'Master's Friend'?" Pollyanna thought for a moment, then said, "I guess 'Master's Maid's Lover' will be fine. After all, you have lots of friends, but Rose only has one lover." "Yeah, you keep on telling yourself that, and it might become true," said the quick-witted Rose. Pollyanna was sitting between Rose's legs, leaning back on her girlfriend's chest with Rose's arms wrapped around Pollyanna's waist. It was a position that Traci and I assumed most of the time when we sat on the couch (though my chest was nowhere as ample as Roses'). Pollyanna replied to her girlfriend's joke by reaching down and pinching the redhead's leg. Everybody but Slave chuckled over the two girls' antics. I watched Slave's reaction as she fought to prevent any signs of humor from showing. When Marge stood up, I turned my attention to her. She announced, "I'm going to go outside and do some gardening." I asked, "Oh? You don't want to come up with some ideas for punishment?" Marge shook her head and said, "Nah. John was the one in charge of punishing the girls. I would just tell him what the girls did wrong, and he would take care of it." "Yeah, but Daddy was a pushover. Whenever he saw either of us crying, he would go easy on us," Traci explained. I thought I had a good idea of what John Caspar must have felt. Eight hours had not passed since I had brought tears to my girlfriend's eyes, and seeing her in pain wracked me with considerable grief. I once again promised myself that I would do my utmost to prevent Traci from crying at my hand. As Marge went out the sliding glass door into the backyard, she looked back and gave me a smile. I was unsure if her retreat had to do with seeing her daughter as Slave or if she was afraid of how I had instructed Slave to address her. Traci suggested, "Since Lori forgot to write in her journal, Slave should have to read the journal aloud." "That's a good idea, Love. What about secrecy?" "Hmm, maybe make her do something in secret? How about having her masturbate in class or something like that." Slave was still looking at the floor, but I saw Rose's words having an effect on her. A flush crept to her face and chest; Slave took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It appeared the idea excited her. I thought about it for a moment, but said, "That's also a good idea, except the risk of being caught at school would be too high. In addition, for now at least, I want the punishment to be while she is in slave mode. It would be rather difficult for Slave to blend into Lori's classes." "The mall!" Traci exclaimed all of the sudden. "We could all go to the mall with Slave. She would have to stay as Slave unless she sees somebody that knows her, and then she could become Lori. Also, she would have to wear panties filled with your cum." I looked over at Slave when she let out a small gasp, but by then, she seemed to have regained control over her emotions and was staring diligently at the floor. As much as I enjoyed shopping, the mall was a half an hour away and I wanted to make sure Lori had plenty of time to study. Furthermore, I doubted that I could fill much of anything after Saturday's sexual adventures, not to mention Monday morning's makeup sex. "Master?" Slave softly inquired. "If your humble slave may make a suggestion: why not a spanking? Vicky seemed to like the idea of me being spanked, and I am sure that she will be asking Lori about it the next time she sees her." I nodded in agreement and said, "Very well. I want you to fetch your journal, and when you return, I shall mark what section for you to read aloud while you receive your spanking." "Yes, Master," Slave replied, and she rose her head to make eye contact with me, making sure it was okay for her to get up. Once she saw me give her a slight nod, she got up and quickly made her way to the staircase to go up to retrieve her journal. Once she was up the staircase and out of sight, I asked Traci to fetch a chair from the dining room. "I can do that, Chad," Rose protested. Traci had already gotten up to complete the task before Lori returned when she observed, "If you did, Pollyanna would lose her pillows." "Yeah," Pollyanna said, wriggling her back slightly against Rose's chest. "And they are so comfortable right now. If you got up now, it would take me a while to fluff them back to the way I like them." Pollyanna could not see Rose's blush, but the redhead tightened her arms around her girlfriend, pulling her closer to her. The fact that Traci had returned with the chair before Slave came back led me to believe that the journal had been hidden in a more secure location, this time. I was sitting in the chair facing the couch, halfway between the fireplace and the coffee table, by the time Slave came back down. Slave handed me the journal, and she had the foresight to bring a pencil for me to mark what sections to read aloud. I thought it best that she read everything up to the point where Marge and Rose returned, so I marked the passage that I wanted Slave to read aloud. I handed back the journal to Slave and tossed the pencil onto the coffee table. Slave looked at me, awaiting further instructions, to which I silently supplied by glancing down at my lap. She picked up on what I wanted done and draped herself across my lap so that I could have unfettered access to her pert ass. At first, Slave tried to set the journal down on the floor and support her upper body with both arms, but she discovered that it would be too difficult to read the journal that way. She thus ended up picking up the journal with one hand and used her other arm to support her upper body weight. I helped her stay in position by holding onto her waist with my left hand. As she began to read aloud from her journal, I rose up my right hand and brought it down swiftly upon her right buttock when she reached the end of her first sentence. While the impact of my blow was not hard, the sound of the impact of flesh upon flesh seemed loud. Slave flinched slightly when I spanked her, but she continued on reading. Since I had already read the journal, I knew when the end of the second sentence was, so I was able to time my second spank on her left cheek to coincide with it. Again, the sound of the blow was a great deal louder than the actually force it portrayed. Slave paused at the end of the third sentence, already picking up a pattern, but when she did not receive a spank, she continued on. I let her read a few more sentences before I quickly landed two spanks, one on each cheek. This time, I had not waited until she had reached the end of a sentence, and she lost her place momentarily. Once she found her place and started reading again, I made eye contact with my girlfriend and beckoned her over with my finger. Since I had not verbally called Traci over, she picked up that I did not want Slave to know what was going on. Stealthy, Traci made her way over, and it appeared that Slave was none the wiser of her movement. I gestured to Traci to give Slave the next spank, to which I received a big grin. I was slightly worried when Traci raised her hand as high as she did, but she brought it down without too much force and it appeared that it was actually softer than the spanks that I had already given. I do not know if it was the change in angle, the size of the hand, or the amount of pressure, but Slave realized that it was not me who had landed the last blow. She stopped her reading and looked back to see Traci standing there. "You didn't expect me to hurt my hand by doing all the spanking, did you Slave?" "Of course not, Master," Slave replied, before returning to her reading. The second time Traci spanked Slave, the impact was stronger, perhaps even stronger than the ones that I had given. Slave flinched at the sudden blow and paused for a second before resuming reading. I then gestured Pollyanna to come over to take Traci's place. Pollyanna came over and when she raised her hand up to spank Slave, she hesitated. She brought her hand down, but stopped herself before making contact with Slave's ass. Pollyanna repeated the process again, but aborted the spank at the last moment. Pollyanna was working up her courage to actually spank Slave when I said, "It's cool, Pollyanna. You don't have to do this." Pollyanna's reply was to spank Slave twice in rapid succession. Pollyanna then gave me a smile before turning around and returning to the couch. Rose had already gotten up and was waiting to take her girlfriend's place in punishing Slave. Whereas Pollyanna had been reluctant to spank Slave, Rose seemed all too eager to do so. Even I was surprised at how much force Rose delivered in her first spank, and Slave let out a small cry when it landed. "Oh my God! I'm sorry, Slave!" Rose exclaimed. "No, it's alright, Ro-- Master's Maid. It just surprised me, that's all. Please, spank me as hard as you want." Even with Slave's reassurance, Rose's second spank was far weaker than her first. Sheepishly, she made her way back to the couch. As Slave was nearing the end of the marked passage, I held off on spanking her any further. The dampness that I felt on my thigh, combined with the scent of Slave's arousal, told me that I had accomplished what I had set out to do. Once Slave finished reading from the journal, I asked, "Slave, do you think you will remember to write in your journal? And the importance of secrecy?" "Yes, Master." "Very good. Now, I'm going to most likely be busy for the rest of the day, so if you want to come, it had better be now, otherwise it won't be until at least tomorrow, if then." Slave remained quiet for a moment, thinking. I glanced over at the couch. Traci had joined Rose and Pollyanna on the sofa, so when Slave eventually said that she wanted to come; I slid my left hand from holding her waist and reached underneath her stomach. I slid my right hand under her right thigh and lifted her up. It was a tad awkward, but I wanted to position my slave to sit in my lap, facing the three girls. I then put my hands on Slave's knees and parted her legs, exposing her sex to them. "I want you to masturbate, but you must keep your eyes opened and locked on one of the three of them. If you don't, then you will receive another spanking, but this time, it will be done entirely by Rose." Rose's flush deepened while the other two girls on the couch chuckled. "I understand, Master," Slave replied before she started to play with herself. I still wanted to maintain my master plan of going at a slow sexual pace when it came to Lori/Slave, but I did allow myself to idly draw small circles with my fingertips on Slave's knees. Slave's actions were having an arousing effect on the girls on the couch. Pollyanna subconsciously licked her lips, and she and Rose were running their hands along each other's thighs. Traci was so transfixed on Slave that when her cell phone rang, she ignored it (a first, I believe). And while I am not sure if it was intentional, Slave's gyrations were also having an arousing effect on me. Even through the thick material of my jeans, I doubt Slave was hard-pressed to feel my hardened member. When Slave reached her climax, she inadvertently tried to close her legs. I tightened my grip on her kneecaps and held her legs open as the orgasm wracked her body. When she came down from her orgasm, I released my grip and brought my arms around her waist, holding her in a soft embrace. Slave drew her legs closed and leaned forwarded, her orgasm taking a toll on her body. I waited a minute before whispering in her ear, "Lori, why don't we call it a day." Using her name broke her from her reverie, and Lori answered, "Okay, Chad." Lori stood up and retrieved her clothes from the foyer. After she donned her outfit, she came back into the living room and was headed to the staircase when I said, "I'll come up to your room in a few minutes to discuss the scene." Lori chuckled and replied, "I don't know. Judging from what Slave felt, I think it will take more than a few minutes before you can stand." I grinned at her and saw her amused expression turn to sudden panic. She madly flew from where she was standing and practically dove on the journal, the one that Slave had dropped when I lifted her into my lap. Lori had spotted the neglected journal when she had paused to tease me and knew that if she had left it behind, she would not go unpunished. After Lori made a hasty retreat from the living room, Traci amusingly asked, "You want me to help you get to your feet faster?" I shrugged and said, "Sure, why not." I then began to undo my pants, which drew a small shriek from Pollyanna. I gave her a wink and said, "Psych," before I refashioned my pants. Traci gave me a small pout, and it was hard to read if she was just joking about giving me a blowjob in front of her two friends (as I was), or if she was serious. Even my attempt of humor did little to dampen the sexual tension in the room. I closed my eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths, only to be interrupted by the sound of the sliding glass door being opened. I opened my eyes to see Marge come into the living room wearing a large towel wrapped around her body. The fact that she was carrying her clothes and was still wet made it easy to deduce she had been swimming, but my girlfriend still seemed surprised. "Mom! I thought you went out to do some gardening." Marge shrugged and said, "I was hot and decided a quick dip in the pool would help. Looks like you all could use some 'cooling off', too." Marge's gaze was directed towards Rose and Pollyanna, so I turned my attention towards them as well. It appeared that the top button of Rose's pants had become undone and her zipper was halfway unzipped. Not only that, Pollyanna's hand had somehow found its way into Rose's pants. Pollyanna, realizing how much her hand had strayed, quickly pulled her hand away and began to turn as red as her lover's mane. Even with the antics going on beside her, my inquisitive girlfriend could not let the matter drop. "You had a bathing suit out there?" she asked her mom. "What? You think you and Chad invented skinny dipping?" Marge asked Traci. Marge then let out a chuckle at the surprised look that her daughter gave her and proceeded to the staircase. I noted that, instead of taking the most direct route to the stairs, Marge walked around the back of the couch. When Marge was out of the peripheral vision of the three girls, she made a point of showing that she was truly, indeed, naked under the towel before she went up to her room... Any progress I had made at relieving my hard-on quickly evaporated as I was once again reminded what a great body that the eldest Caspar woman possessed. I decided it was a lost cause and stood (somewhat painfully) up. As I began to gingerly make my way to the staircase, Traci joined me. "I'm just going upstairs to discuss the scene with Lori. Nothing sexual is going to take place," I assured my girlfriend. Traci nodded but continued to follow me up the stairs. When we were well out of earshot of Rose and Pollyanna, Traci confessed, "I'm not worried about you and Lori. I'm just afraid of the hussy in the room next to hers'." I knew that Traci had not been looking at her mom when she flashed me, and I thought I had done a good job at masking my physical reaction (excluding the one that occurred in my pants). It then occurred to me that Traci knew her mom far too well. After all, I was sure that Traci would have done the exact same thing. To Traci's surprise (and possible disappointment), we did not find Marge waiting at the top of the staircase to 'jump my bones'. My girlfriend and I shared a tender kiss before I knocked softly on Lori's door. After Lori invited me in, Traci turned around and headed back downstairs. I was partly surprised that Traci had not checked her sister's room to see for herself that her mother was not in there, waiting to spring a trap on me. Then again, maybe she realized her mother was not as hypersexual as she was. I kept Lori's concern about the end of the semester drawing closer in mind and kept our discussion regarding the previous scene somewhat brief. We were able to talk about not only what had just happened, but also everything else that had occurred over the weekend in just about twenty minutes. While Lori was excited about exploring the other realms of BDSM, she agreed with me that it was better to restrict our activities to the weekends with some occasional role-playing during the weekdays, at least until the start of the new semester. When I came downstairs, I found the living room deserted. I had a pretty good idea where Rose and Pollyanna were. Even with Rose's room being the furthest from the staircase, I had been able to hear the loud redhead's moans before I had made my descent. I think that the fact that her door was slightly ajar had something to do with it. After checking the kitchen and backyard, I made my way to my bedroom. I opened the door to discover Traci lying naked on the bed, playing with her vibrator. I quietly closed the door and made my way to the bed. She had her eyes closed, but even in her aroused state, she detected my presence and opened them. She had a hungery look in her eyes and said, "Chad, please fuck me" Traci was surprised when I shook my head. "Right now, I want to make love to the most important person in my life. The girl without whom I doubt I could continue living if she was ever taken from me. The one that I love more than anything else in this world." I do not know if it was my words or the sincerity that I had said them, but a tear began to well up in Traci's eyes. The Clandestine Youth Agency went to great lengths to insure that their agents were intelligent. Even I knew if I mentioned Fran Johnson at that moment, especially with our fight less than a day old, I would get a hands-on demonstration of where the term "Bobbit' came from. Instead, I kept any wiseass remarks to myself, removed my clothes, and made passionate love with my girlfriend ------- Chapter 26 "Whoops!" Usual last word of an unsuccessful Bomb Disposal Technician. "Chad, are you awake?" Traci asked. That was the third time my girlfriend had asked me that question. I had heard her the first time (sound sleepers in the CYA usually equated to dead agents), but had chosen to ignore her. However, each time thereafter, Traci's volume and bouncing on the bed had increased. Abandoning all hope of trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, I opened my eyes and gazed upon my girlfriend. The look on Traci's face was of pure excitement. I doubted I had seen Traci this excited since Christmas morning. While my recent escapades with her mother and sister had brought enthusiasm to Traci, there had been traces of fear and anxiety mixed in. This time, there was no trace of those emotions -- Traci appeared positively giddy. "You need to get up. We'll be going to school early today." Glancing at the bedside clock, I saw that it was close to a half-hour before our usual wakeup time. When I looked back at Traci, my gaze shifted from her face down to what she was wearing. Without too much sarcasm in my voice, I said, "Nice jacket." I do not know if Traci did not pick up my burlesqued remark or had just chosen to ignore it. Instead, Traci got off the bed and did a quick twirl, proudly showing off my dreaded letterman's jacket. Traci also grinned and said, "Isn't it." She then answered my unasked question of how she got ahold of it. "After you went to bed last night, I told Rose that you were going to let me wear your jacket for a week. Well, at first, she did not believe me and thought I was lying, so I told her a little bit about the reason why. I explained that you felt partially responsible for my behavior and that you were making it up to me by allowing me to wear your jacket. Well, that even confused her more, so I had to explain in more detail about our... disagreement. Anyway, after I finally convinced her that I was on the level, she made me wait in here while she retrieved the jacket. I swear, it took her ten minutes to get the jacket, but I think I heard the bed being moved in my room, and I could almost swear that I heard either your sister's bedroom door or mine being closed right before she came in with the jacket. She also made me swear to her one last time that I was not lying to her and that you were really allowing me the jacket before she handed it to me. Also, I told Lori and Rose that we would be going to school early today, so you need to be getting up and out of bed." I blinked a couple of times and marveled at my girlfriend. It was not so much the speed that she delivered her oration, but the fact that Traci had taken only a couple of breaths during it. The energy that she emitted was contagious, though, and I found myself getting out of bed with a smile on my face. "As you wish," I said. It had been a while since I had used our code phrase, but Traci quickly shot back, "I love you, too. Now get dressed!" ------- I noticed that I was not the only one amused at Traci's excitement when I joined Lori and Rose at the breakfast table. It was during the second time that Traci dashed back to the bedroom to find 'better' pants to go with the jacket that caused all three of us to laugh aloud. Marge came into the kitchen at that point and wondered what had caused our mirth, but she soon got her answer when Traci rejoined us. "Dear, why in the world are you wearing a jacket to breakfast?" Marge asked her youngest daughter, hiding her amused expression behind a piece of toast. Traci just ignored her mother's question and quickly devoured her remaining breakfast. After Traci cleared her plates and rinsed them in the sink, she stood impatiently in the kitchen, watching us eat. Everyone at the table picked up on Traci's restlessness and decided to eat at a more leisurely pace. Traci was having none of that. "Come on, hurry up," Traci said with a slight whine to her voice. Marge had picked up on Traci's tone and pushed all amusement aside when she scolded Traci. "Young lady, you can either rejoin the table and wait for them to finish eating or leave. You will NOT just stand there and grumble. Do I make myself clear?" A subdued Traci rejoined us at the table, and Lori, Rose, and I ended up picking up our pace. I think we all felt a tad guilty at the chastising Traci had received. However, Traci's eagerness quickly returned when we finished eating; she got up, busing our used plates and utensils to the sink. "Can you wash the dishes?" Traci asked her mom. Rose's protests were cut off when Marge agreed to her daughter's request. Any annoyance Marge had had at Traci's earlier behavior had quickly evaporated at the signs of Traci's jubilation. Traci pulled her redheaded friend out of the kitchen, and the four of us were ready to leave the house in less then five minutes. When I stepped outside, I noticed how cold it had become. I guess the recent warm weather spell had spoiled me slightly, and that morning's weather once again reminded me it was still January. "Brr, maybe I should wear my jacket after all," I remarked to Traci. I did not even have the chance to stop my girlfriend, as she turned around and dashed back into the house. She returned less than a minute later, bringing my leather jacket. Since it was a relatively short drive to the high school, I went ahead and put on the jacket. The drive to school was uneventful, save for the fact that Traci seemed to be willing the car to move faster. Since we arrived about a half-hour earlier than we usually did, there was ample parking and we were able to find a spot close to the school entrance. As soon as we were out of the car, Traci latched onto my left hand. I was slightly amused when Lori made a bold move and grabbed hold of my right hand. Traci, on the other hand, was not and told her sister, "Hands off. At school, he's all mine." Lori grinned and released my hand. Once again, I had to remind myself that my letterman's jacket was not marking Traci belonging to me, but me belonging to Traci. The four of us entered the school grounds, and when we reached the library, Lori and Rose decided to go in there and do some studying. After bidding farewell to them, Traci and I headed for my locker. "Won't people notice when you stop wearing my jacket after a week's up?" I asked. Traci shrugged and said, "I guess, I'll just have to keep wearing the jacket, then." "A better solution would be for me to take back the jacket now before any more people see it on you," I pointed out. Traci glanced at my face and saw the smile on it. "Chad Johnson, one of these days your teasing is going to get you into trouble," Traci replied. Her comment stopped me in my tracks. Traci did not notice it at first and was pulled short by her determined grip on my hand. I did like to tease, but teasing was at the source of Monday morning's fight. I had done something that I swore that I would never do: I had inflicted pain upon the one person that I loved more than anything because of my childish behavior. "What's wrong?" Traci asked concernedly. "Would you like for me to stop?" I asked. It took Traci a few seconds to figure out what I was talking about. She then grinned and said, "No, silly. Teasing is a part of who you are. I know that you are being affectionate when you do it, and besides, we all tease each other." Traci paused for a few seconds before adding, "Just try to use some common sense when it comes to teasing and try to avoid kidding me about you-know-who." I nodded and had already vowed to myself that I would refrain from teasing Traci about Fran. Unlike my vow to curtail smoking, that was one that I intended to keep. We resumed our journey to my locker. When we rounded the corner to where my locker was, I sensed something was wrong. I made a conscious effort not to change my grip on Traci's hand, lest she know that something was amiss. Since there were only a half-dozen people in the hallway, it only took me a few seconds to realize what was out of place; when I did, I let out the breath I was holding. I did not change my pace as we approached my locker. "Hey, Elroy," I said as I arrived at my locker. Elroy Jones looked up at me standing over him, then back at the locker he was trying to open. He rolled his eyes, moved over to the next locker to the right, and said, "Hey, Chad. Sorry about that. I don't know how many times I have tried to open your locker, thinking that it was mine." 'NINE TIMES!' my mind screamed, but I smiled and said, "No worries." "What's wrong, you dyslexic?" Traci asked him. Traci started to turn red when Elroy nodded. I found it slightly amusing since not even a minute had passed since Traci had mentioned using common sense when it came to teasing. I think that helped take the sting out of my foolishness. Whenever I had found my locker dial disturbed, I had automatically thought about the worst-case scenario, and had not even paused to consider a more likely explanation. It was when my mind started to consider that Elroy was a plant, somebody to cause me to let down my guard, that I was letting my paranoia get the better of me. As dangerous as high school life was, the chances of a bomb being planted in my locker were slim to none; and slim just left the building. As I squatted down next to my locker, I unzipped the outside pouch of my laptop case and withdrew a black Sharpie permanent marker. I then marked the upper right corner of the locker until there was a triangle about half a square inch in size. It was against school policy to deface the lockers, but hopefully it would go unnoticed. "You think that should help you?" I asked Elroy. Elroy nodded and said, "Yeah, thanks, Chad. I should have thought about that. It gets so frustrating; I focus so much on the combination, that I forget to check which locker I'm at." As I dialed in my combination, I reassured him that it was not a problem. I then stowed my backpack and laptop case in the locker before walking Traci to hers. Traci strutted as proud as a peacock, showing off her (I had already given up any claim of ownership) jacket. After securing her stuff in her locker, we ended up making a few circuits around the school. It was during the second time that we were passing by my locker that we ran into the Johnson twins. "Hey, guys," Chuck said as we got within earshot. Fran smiled at Traci and me as she began rummaging through her backpack. We had pulled up next to the two of them when Fran pulled out an envelope and handed it to Traci. Traci seemed surprised and grew even more curious when Chuck retrieved a similar envelope and presented it to me. After making sure it was okay to open them, we discovered they were birthday invitations. Chuck had informally invited me three or four weeks prior, but now it was official. It was one of the few occasions that my girlfriend seemed to be at a loss for words, but she quickly recovered and thanked the blonde Amazon. Fran said, "Remember, the invitations are for you plus one, so feel free to bring a friend." "Yeah," supplied Chuck with a grin on his face. "The more people, the more presents." Fran rolled her eyes and quickly added, "You don't have to bring gifts." Chuck let out a theatrical gasp and took a step back, as if Fran's words had stung him. "Ignore my sister. I'll be standing at the door, and I won't let anybody in unless they have a present -- at least, a present for me. Fran might not care about material possessions, but I do." Traci and I laughed at Chuck's antics, while Fran just shook her head. Since Traci wanted to get at least one more lap around the school, we said goodbye to the twins and continued our trek. ------- The cold air mass also brought some rain clouds, and it rained off and on for the next few days. By Friday, it had started to clear up, and by Saturday, it was very sunny; the recent showers clearing the atmosphere made the sun appear all the brighter. With the end of the semester being the following week, we had agreed to make Saturday's lunch gathering into a study session. I was rather confident that I would do well on my tests, one of the advantages of having a photographic memory. One of the disadvantages it brought raised its ugly head about an hour before the girls started to arrive. Rose and I were out in the front yard, doing some lawn maintenance. Since I had been insistent that a manual push reel mower be used instead of an electric- or gas-powered one, I felt it was only fair that I be the one to operate it. Of course, Rose disagreed with my logic, but in the end, I was able to convince her that I needed the exercise more than she did. Our work was interrupted when we saw a new Cadillac pull into the Caspars' old driveway, followed by a large moving truck that parked on the street in front of their old home. I put down the lawnmower and grabbed my tee shirt. By the time I had turned my attention to what was going on next door, a balding, grey-haired man in his mid-sixties had gotten out of the car. He was wearing jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, trying (somewhat unsuccessfully) to hide the fact that he was about thirty pounds overweight. It was the two moles on his face -- one over his left brow and the other next to his left nostril -- that convinced me that I had seen him someplace before. I stood still as I searched my memory and tried to recall where I had seen him. When Ayako had assured me that the CYA would not waste resources by physically monitoring me, I had for the most part believed her. I had slowly began to let my guard down, but seeing someone whose face I recognized brought my defenses up. Perhaps it was a person that I had met briefly on one of my training missions, since my exposure to adults while I was at The Compound was limited to the instructors, but the chances of that occurring were astronomically high. "He looks familiar," observed Rose as she joined me, abandoning the weeding she had been doing in the flowerbed. I felt a tad reassured that Rose had recognized the man, but part of me told to proceed with caution. I think it was the brouhaha over the lockers that convinced me that I should just go 'balls out' and introduce myself to my new neighbor. When I started to walk next door, I noticed Rose fall in beside me. While it is true that there was safety in numbers, I franticly tried to come up with an excuse for her not to come along. When none came to mind, I remained silent and was grateful at least it was broad daylight. I also had the additional comfort that my other neighbor, Craig Falmonz, had been in and out of his house all morning as he cleaned out his garage. While I had only talked to Craig a few times, he came across as a person who could hold his own, and one that would not be afraid to assist a person in need. The mystery man was still outside the house and gave us a smile when he saw us approaching him. When I drew close enough, I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Chad Johnson, and I am assuming that I'm your neighbor." He gave me a firm handshake and said, "Nik Cowan, and you are correct in your assumption." A wave of relief washed through my body as the name triggered the memory of where I had seen him before. A picture of him, along with a couple of actors, was in the copy of Marge's Entertainment Weekly from a month ago. He was the Executive Producer of an independent film that had received critical (and financial) success. He seemed impressed when I said, "I haven't seen your film, but I wish you luck with the Oscars." "Chad hates going to the movies," supplied Rose. I did not hate going to the movies, I just preferred that, if I go to the movies, it was to actually watch the movie. I had found out that it was not the case when I had gone to the movies with the girls on a Friday night, shortly after I arrived in Central City. The first warning sign was when I had asked which movie we were seeing and was told that they would decide when we arrived at the theater. It turned out that 'going to the movies' was just an excuse for junior high and high school kids to get together and hang out. It would not have been so bad if the socializing had stayed out in the lobby, but it spilled into the theater house, as well. I doubted if Traci had even stayed through half the movie as she was constantly going in and out, talking with her friends. However, I did not think Mr. Cowan needed to hear my views on the subject matter and instead apologized. "I'm sorry; I seem to have lost my manners. This is Rose -" "I'm his maid," Rose pronounced proudly. I rolled my eyes and corrected the redhead, "Rose is my friend and housemate, who feels compelled to earn her keep. A word of warning: don't do anything nice for her, or you might end up with a domestic servant." Rose rolled her eyes, and Nik Cowan let out a loud laugh. After he stopped laughing, I added, "Just so you know, I am sure there will be a few more ladies stopping by after I've told them that you moved in." He frowned slightly and said, "I hope they are not actresses." I smiled and shook my head, saying, "Worse: they used to live here, and they'll want to make sure you are going to be good to their old home." ------- I had been correct in my guess that the Caspars did indeed want to meet Mr. Cowan. Over Traci's protest, it was decided that they would give him some time to let him settle in before heading over there. It was not a productive study session, as speculation regarding what type of person Nik Cowan was ran rampant over our (my) attempts to concentrate. The conjecture only increased when Michelle spotted a new Mercedes pull into their driveway. A brunette in her fifties was seen exiting the vehicle and going into the house. By the time three o'clock had rolled around, Traci was practically walking on the ceiling, so Marge took her two daughters next door to greet the people who moved into their old house. Michelle, Rose, and Pollyanna continued to study while I slipped off to my bedroom to check out some stuff on the net. I would have used my notebook, except that Michelle was using it to type up a paper for her English class. The first site I went to was the Internet Movie Database (IMDB) and looked up Nik Cowan. The website listed over two dozen films that he had been either Executive Producer or Producer on. It was safe to say that I was not a film aficionado, so I began to look at the titles that I did not recognize. It appeared that Nik Cowan typically financed independent films along with the occasional high-budget, mainstream ones. IMDB did not have his picture listed, but it did list his spouse, Laura Tilson. They had been married for twenty-three years, and she was a screenwriter. Looking at her filmography, I noted that her husband had produced a majority of her films, including the most recent one. I then did a Google Image search on their names, and it returned plenty of pictures of them. While I had not seen Laura Tilson, Michelle's description matched the images of her. As I left my bedroom to rejoin the study session, I was ninety-percent sure that my new neighbors were who they claimed to be. Sure, I was going off information that could have easily been planted by the CYA. Marge's Entertainment Weekly subscription could have been intercepted and a doctored one with Nik Cowan's picture inserted. While governmental agencies had been known to hack into websites and plant information in the past, they would not have even needed to go that far, since all my internet access was via their satellite connection. The thing was that they knew that I knew all the little tricks to deceive a target, and that I would be double-checking through alternative routes. Another possibly was that Nik Cowan and Laura Tilson were deep undercover agents, but I dismissed that thought as soon as it entered my mind. The FBI had planted agents in Hollywood during the 'Red Scare' in the Fifties, but it was far easier to gather domestic intelligence through eavesdropping and wiretapping. However, if they did want to plant an agent, a producer would be one of the easier roles to undertake. The Caspars returned twenty minutes later, and Lori stole Traci's thunder when she informed me, "Mr. Cowan wants to take us, you, and Rose out to dinner tonight." I smiled at the pout my girlfriend gave because she was not the one to deliver that information. I thought a moment before saying, "Instead of going out, why not invite him and his wife over here for dinner, instead. That way Pollyanna and Michelle can meet him -- that is," I paused and looked at the girls, "if you two want to meet them." Michelle and Pollyanna both eagerly nodded, and Michelle asked, "Can Mom come over?" I grinned and replied, "Silly, you don't have to ask that. Jean is welcome to come over at any time. Hell, she can even come over when Slave is here." Everyone was amused at Lori's shocked expression. I decided to save her further embarrassment by discussing what we could prepare. "What do ya'll think about Santa Maria-style barbeque?" "Well, I bought plenty of tri-tip today since it was on sale. I could have bought a lot more, but we just don't have the freezer space," observed Rose. Subtlety had never been one of Rose's strong suits. However, it was the first time she had brought up my promises of buying a freezer; I felt she deserved an explanation, so I informed her, "Since there is no anime club meeting tomorrow because of the Johnson twins' birthday party, we can go shopping for a freezer beforehand." Rose blushed slightly, embarrassed that I had caught on to her hint, but nodded in agreement. Marge asked, "What about the beans? They take a long time to cook, and usually you soak them overnight beforehand." "We'll cheat," Michelle said. "I'll ask Mom to swing by Little Jocko's, and she can buy a gallon of beans from them." I said, "Okay, sounds like we have a plan, then. All that remains is asking them if they would like to eat over here, instead." "I'll go," volunteered Traci, and she was already out the door before I had a chance to reply. ------- Nik and Laura did agree to the change in plans, and we ended up having an enjoyable dinner. I did have to plead with Rose for five minutes into not wearing one of her maid's outfits. I think my earlier promise to shop for the freezer the next day helped in making her take pity on me Through the course of the evening, we discovered that, while Laura kept her maiden name for professional reasons, she was perfectly happy being to referred by her husband's last name. Nik, on the other hand, insisted that everybody call him by his first name; a common Hollywood trait, he informed us. We also found out that they owned houses in Beverly Hills, Florida, Costa Rica, and now here. They had owned a house in Santa Barbara, but thought it was still to close to 'the stench of Los Angeles', so they had sold it and moved up here. They had been looking for a suitable house in Central City for over a year, so when the Caspars' house went on the market, they had bought it sight unseen. They confessed that they were most likely going to be living there for a few years while they scouted around for property to build their own 'dream home'. After dinner, I brought out brandy and enough snifters for all of the adults. When Nik asked if it was okay to smoke in the house, Rose and I said 'yes', but we were drowned out by Traci's loud 'NO!'. Nik chuckled and thought it best to smoke outside. His chuckling turned to laughter when he witnessed the pleading look I gave Traci before she rolled her eyes and shooed me away with her hand, giving me permission to smoke, as well. Nik, Jean and I went outside, and when the two of us started to take out cigarettes, Nik stopped us and handed us cigars. "I usually bring these bad boys back with me when I return from Costa Rica," Nik explained as he gave us the Cuban cigars. While it had been sunny during the day, the night air had become somewhat chilly because of the recent rains. I started up a propane heater that was next to one of the poolside tables, and we sat there, enjoying the fine Cuban tobacco. It was easy to see why Nik was a successful producer. Besides being a very likeable guy, he possessed a keen mind and seemed to be able to put people at ease. Since he had been so forthcoming with his life story, I felt it only fair to give him mine -- albeit mine was fictitious, at least up to when I came to Central City. "Do you golf?" Nik asked after I completed my brief history. I could not help but grin when I replied, "Actually, I have not told anybody yet, but this spring, I'm going to try out for the golf team." Jean started laughing and told me, "Oh, Chad, you are so wicked." Nik gave me a confused look, so I explained, "When I first met Traci, she told me that she wanted to try out for cheerleading. After she became my girlfriend, she gave up that plan so she could spend more time with me. Well, that caused an argument, and I finally convinced her to try out for cheerleading, but as a condition of her trying out, I had to try out for a spring sport, as well." Jean had stopped laughing and told Nik the rest, "Traci had told Michelle, who then told me, that at least she would be able to cheer for her boyfriend." Nik started to chuckle and said, "Ah, and golf is one of the few sports that does not have cheerleaders." My grin did not leave my face when I added, "Hopefully, she will find it as amusing as you two do." Jean started laughing again and said, "Chad, you'll be lucky if you get away with her not talking to you for only a week." ------- Chapter 27 "I thought he was over eighteen!" -M. Jackson "Slave, we are going to make a little trip at lunchtime tomorrow." Merde, I swore to myself, as the car swerved slightly. Next time, I would make sure that Lori was not driving when I suddenly shifted into master mode. "Yes, Master," Slave replied, once she had composed herself. "Chad, tomorrow is..." I turned to the backseat and shot Traci a dark look, which was a mistake since I still had on my master persona. That enraged Traci, and she vehemently said, "Chad Johnson! Just because you can order my sister around gives you no right to order me! If you think some look is going to make me stop talking, you're sadly mistaken, buster! It will be a dark day in... Rose!" I had given Rose a pleading look to silence my girlfriend. Her solution was to reach over and fondle Traci's breast. Rose gave the surprised girl a grin and asked, "Would you rather I silence you the way Chad does?" and with that, she unbuckled her seatbelt and started to slide closer to Traci. "Stop it, you dyke!" Traci said, holding out her arms to ward off her advancing friend. "Traci, I'm sorry that I gave you a dark look. I have plans with Slave at lunch tomorrow. Please, be patient, and if we really need to discuss it, we can wait until we get home." I glanced over at Slave and noticed that she had a tight grip on the steering wheel. "'Graffiti Bridge'," I quickly added, deciding that it would be safer to have Lori driving than Slave. The rest of the ride home occurred in silence. Traci was still fuming a little when we reached the driveway. Just a half hour before, we were all having a great time at Chuck and Fran's birthday party. The two of them had held the party at a pizza parlor, and had invited a bunch of their friends. Sunday's anime club had become chummy with Saturday's lunch group -- helped significantly by the joint poker games we would sometimes play -- and the guys had used their 'plus guest' on their invitations to bring them along. Despite Fran's protests that gifts were not necessary, I noted that Traci went out of her way trying to find the 'perfect gifts' for them. She ended up buying them twelve-inch G.I. Joes: Snake Eyes for Chuck, and Scarlet for Fran. I gave Chuck the Ninja Scroll 10th Anniversary Special Edition DVD, and Fran the second Azumanga Daioh DVD. When we got out of the car, Rose said, "How many slices of pizza did Chuck eat tonight? Two?" I grinned at Rose's observation. The first week back to school from winter break was when I made a comment about Chuck losing weight. I had noticed that, since December, he seemed to be shedding his excess fat. He had just said one word to me: "Atkins." I had nodded; even I had heard of Atkins. It was a low carbohydrate diet, and it seemed to be working wonders for him. "You lost what, forty-five pounds?" I had asked him. He had grinned and replied, "Fifty-three. And you won't believe this, but you know the urban legend about for every fifty pounds you lose, you gain an inch in your dick? It's true. I measured myself, and I am a full inch longer!" "So, you're up to four inches now?" a bemused Fran had supplied, having walked up behind Chuck as he was relaying this tidbit of knowledge. It was always amusing to see Chuck blush. His skin tone made it almost impossible to detect, but I could still pick it up, mostly on the tip of his ears. He had then spun around to confront his sister. "Jesus, Fran! That was, like, nine years ago. Things grow bigger over time -- at least some things do. It doesn't look like your boobs have grown much since then." Now, Fran's blush had shown fairly well, and had been getting more glaringly easier to tell, now that she had stopped water polo. I then chose to interrupt the argument before it really got started. "Why did Fran see you naked nine years ago?" Chuck had rolled his eyes and said, "It's our parents fault. Remember, I told you that they treated us like brother and sister? That included bathing us at the same time." "Yeah, they did it until that one time they caught Chuck with a boner. From that time on, it was separate baths," supplied a bemused Fran. I had tried my hardest to withhold my laughter, but Chuck's reaction was just too much, and I let it out. I had later found him and apologized, but even he had found the memory to be a funny one, though it still embarrassed him to no end. At the party, I had asked him why he picked a pizza place to have his party, when pizza was something he had to avoid because of his diet. He had just shrugged, and told me that Fran loved pizza. As much as he enjoyed losing weight, he cared about his sister's well-being more. It was not until Traci and I were getting ready for bed that she confronted me about the next day. "Chad, I was trying to tell you that tomorrow is..." "Honey, I know exactly what tomorrow is. That is why I need Slave to do something for me tomorrow. I picked lunchtime, because that would be the least likely time of being seen." It slowly dawned on Traci what I was telling her, and a grin erupted across her face. "You're going to use my suggestion and take her shopping!" I smiled at her, and did not mention that I had already thought of it before she had made her suggestion. I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I nodded instead. I then grew serious, and said, "I'm sorry that I gave you that look. When a person shifts into 'master' or 'slave' roles, it is sometimes hard for them to quickly transfer out of it. I was afraid if you continued on, you would spoil the surprise tomorrow." Traci looked chagrined at her foolishness so I gave her a kiss and told her that it was not the end of the world, and I doubted Lori had picked up on Traci's faux pas. We told each other that we loved one another, and went to sleep rather quickly. The following day was going to be a long one. ------- I think Lori was slightly disappointed at breakfast the following morning, but she hid it well. Everybody treated the day as if it was a regular Monday morning. Even when Calculus was over, I was talking to her in a regular tone, and I think she might have even forgotten about our conversation the previous night. That is, until I started leading her to the parking lot. When we got into the car, I shifted personas. "Slave, you will need to make a left out of the parking lot and drive straight until I tell you otherwise." It took her a second to respond, "Yes, Master," and she then started up the car. After we had driven a few blocks, I told her to make a right. I then asked, "Do you know where we are going, Slave?" My slave just shook her head, so I asked her the question again. "No, Master." "A good slave should always know what her master wants and predict what he might require. You have earned yourself seven spankings. Five for not being prepared for what I might want, and two for making me repeat myself." I saw my slave shudder slightly, but she kept control of her vehicle. Once again, I wondered to myself if I should avoid using these personas while she was driving. I gave my slave the instructions that were required to get us to our destination. I had staked out the Diamond Adult Bookstore, and had found it suited my purposes perfectly. They had parking behind the store, and by going there during lunch, the chances of a classmate seeing my slave were slim. She was wearing her cheerleading outfit since there was a basketball game that evening, but any attention she drew would most likely not be from somebody that knew her. I handed my slave a note, a list, and one of my credit cards, and said, "Slave, read the note aloud." "I am a lowly slave, whose master requires that she buy him these items, so that he can properly punish her. I am such a pitiful excuse of a slave that I have a fifteen-year-old master, and he is not allowed to enter the store. Please accept this note as proof that his slave has permission to use his credit card. Signed, Chad Johnson." There was some sexual excitement in my slave's voice. I grinned at her and said, "You had better hurry, Slave. Every minute that we are late to school, it will be five more spankings." Slave quickly exited the vehicle and practically dashed to the store's entrance. I was not sure how much of it had to do with avoiding punishment or being seen in her cheerleading outfit entering an adult sex shop, but she did move quickly. I was keeping my eye on the alleyway, alert for any of our classmates appearing, when the back door of the sex shop opened ten minutes later. She came out carrying two bags and followed by a young woman all dressed in black, who was holding a clipboard. I got out of the car to meet them. "Has my slave caused you any trouble?" I asked the girl whose nametag read "Erin". She was in her early twenties, six feet tall, had short black hair (which appeared dyed), and had three facial piercings: ear, nose, and eyebrow. From her black form-fitting shirt, I could see she that (besides not wearing a bra) she had at least two other additional piercings. She was, as I had heard one of my water polo teammates describe it, 'as flat as a board'. If I had to label her on first impression, I would have called her a 'Goth chick'. Erin grinned, and with a bemused tone in her voice, said, "Oh no, your slave was well-behaved. I told her that I couldn't accept the note, and that I had to have you sign for it in person. I also wanted to see who the master of such a beautiful slave was." I grinned back at her, and took the clipboard and pen that she offered to me. As I signed the credit card receipt, I looked at Erin, who was openly appraising my slave. After a quick glance confirmed that there was nobody else around, I suggested to Erin, "If you want, feel free to examine my slave." I then turned my attention to Slave, and slipping into master mode, I said, "Slave, second position." My slave hesitated for just a moment before she dropped the bags, spread her feet shoulder's-length apart, and brought her hands behind her back, thrusting out her chest in the process. She had her gaze focused on the ground, but I could see the sexual excitement in her face. Erin gave me one last glance to confirm that it was okay, then she reached out and began to feel my slave, spending a moment to check the firmness of her breasts before sliding her hand down to cup my slave's ass. She then drew back a hand and gave Slave a nice whack. To my slave's well-deserved credit, she did not flinch or yelp at the sudden spank. "Very nice. Is she the HEAD cheerleader?" I smiled at Erin; I had picked up the word she had emphasized. I shook my head and said, "I know that she is very good at giving me head, but I don't know how she is with women yet. I'll have to make her practice with my girlfriend, and then I'll let you know." The redness that my slave had must have increased threefold at the mention of her performing cunnilingus on her sister. Erin had removed her roaming hands, and gave a short chuckle. "It looks like you have her trained very well. Would you mind lending her out?" I shook my head and said, "I'm sorry, but I have a great deal of training to do until I reach that point. Even then, I'm afraid it is a package deal. I don't trust anybody with my prized possessions, and so if you want to use her, I'll have to be present." She smiled and nodded. Apparently, I had said the right thing. She told me, "I think I could deal with that. Just so you know, I go both ways." Erin laughed at my raised eyebrow, then she further clarified, "Well, okay, I'm bisexual, but I was referring to that I'm also a Switch. Most of the time, I'm a Dom, but I've been known to be a Sub on occasion. I've also worked with other Doms in the past." I smiled and said, "And you should know, if we do get together, it is only after I know that you are clean. It's not just me and my slave I have to worry about, but my girlfriend and mistress, as well." She raised her eyebrow at that, so I clarified, "That's with a small 'M'." "Wicked. FYI, I'm clean, as of my last test, which was a few months ago. Haven't had sex -- well, excluding with just myself -- since then. Found out that my Ex was not as faithful as she had claimed to be," she paused, appraising me once more and asked, "You sure you're only fifteen?" I nodded, and replied, "Yeah, but I'm an old soul. I'll take your word for now that you're clean." I then turned to my slave and instructed her, "Slave, don't you think you should give Erin a kiss as a thank-you for her compliments?" A surprised look crossed my slave's face, but she hid it quickly and moved towards Erin to kiss her. The look reappeared when Erin slid her tongue into my slave's mouth, and my slave was a little flustered when the two of them broke the kiss. Slave took her position, without me having to tell her, and I was proud of her actions. "I'm sorry, Erin; it appears that my slave needs to practice. Perhaps, I'll have her make out with her fellow cheerleaders, so that the next time she kisses you, she'll do a better job." Erin's eyes sparkled at the thought of my slave being forced to kiss her teammates, but added, "Oh no, I enjoyed the kiss. It was so virginal. Oh, I should mention that we are out of the type of butt plug that you wanted. Did you want me to order it?" I shook my head and voiced my disappointment. "Darn, I thought I would use it for when she went to cheer at the basketball game tonight. Well, we really do need to get back to class. My slave gets five spanks for every minute that I'm late to class. Why don't you tell my slave your phone number -- that way, when she is trained well enough, I can give you a call." "I can write it down if you want." I shook my head and said, "If my slave can't remember a possible Mistress' phone number, then I'll have to punish her and send her back to get it again." Erin smiled and rapidly said her phone number, and only once. I easily remembered the seven-digit number, and would remember to test Slave later, hopefully when she least expected it. After telling my slave to pick up the bags, I said goodbye to Erin, and we got into the car. My slave was visibility shaking, and she fumbled with her keys when she tried to put them in the ignition. She finally said, "Cherry Moon," and with that, she was no longer my slave, but my friend Lori. "What's wrong, Lori?" I asked with concern in my voice, any traces of my master persona evaporating with the utterance of her safety phrase. "Jesus fucking Christ, that was wild! I've never been so embarrassed or horny before. I don't think I can drive to school in this state." I glanced at my watch, did some quick calculations, and then said, "Well, if you can get off in less than two minutes, we can make it back to school without you having to earn any punishment." Lori hesitated for the briefest of moments, but then she glanced around and reclined her seat. She lifted her skirt up, slid her cheerleading briefs and underwear aside, and began to frig herself with her right hand while her left moved up to squeeze her breast. I saw that she was soaking wet, it had even caused a dampness to appear on her gold colored briefs, and I fought the urge to reach over and lend a helping hand. Part of the conditions that Traci had laid out for my dominance over her sister was that she had to be present for anything sexual, at least in the beginning. I think what we were doing then was pushing the envelope, but I figured, as long as I did not do anything that would earn me a cigarette, it was safe. Also, it did not appear that my help was needed, because Lori reached a climax in just under a minute. I let Lori recover for another minute before reminding her about getting back to school. I also pointed out the security camera to her. "Oh my god, you think Erin saw me?" a frightened Lori asked as she started the car. I shook my head and said, "No, the camera angle is wrong, and I doubt the resolution would have picked up anything even if it could see you. Erin might wonder why were still here and come out to investigate, though." As we drove back to school, I did not slip into master mode, but I did list the punishments she earned. "Lori, you do know that I have to give Slave some additional spankings. Can you think of the reasons why?" "Slave hesitated when she assumed the second position. Slave also wasn't a good kisser, but Erin was the second person I ever kissed, and the only girl. You're not going to make me -- I mean, her -- practice with the other cheerleaders, are you Chad?" "No, I told you before; I won't embarrass you in front of your classmates." "What about the stuff you said about Mom and Traci?" "I also said that you were good at giving me blowjobs, but we both know that my cock has not passed through your lips, yet. You won't be forced into anything you don't want to, as long as you use your safety phrase. Most people are under the misconception that the dominant roll has all the power. They are wrong; it is the submissive that wields the real power, since they can abort anything with their safety phrase. How many times was Slave tempted to use it in the parking lot?" "About a half dozen! But I kept telling myself that she could do it, and I found she got more and more excited about being forced to do the things that she did." When we pulled into the parking lot and parked the car, I switched to master mode. "Slave, you earned five more spankings. Three for hesitating before assuming second position, and two for being surprised when I told you to kiss Erin." "Yes, Master," my slave responded, and we started to get out of the car. "Lori, you might want to leave the window open a crack to air out the car. Also, you got some black lipstick from when Erin kissed Slave on your lips. You might want to take care of that." Lori blushed and said, "Thanks, Chad." ------- I made it to class on time, but I doubt Lori did. She had to make a quick pit stop at the locker room to change her wet knickers. After school, Lori had just started up the car, when Rose sniffed the air and said, "It seems like something happened in here at lunch." "Slave, turn off the car." Slave quickly shut off the ignition. Both Traci and Rose had bemused looks on their faces, but I saw Traci eyeing me suspiciously; she had not detected the aroma that Rose had, but then again, Traci didn't have a girlfriend that loved to be eaten out. I decided to abort our plan of having to turn back for Rose's 'forgotten' book; instead, I instructed my slave to give, in excruciating detail, the events that took place during lunch. Traci blushed at the part about making Slave practice eating pussy on my girlfriend, and she gave me a light slap on the arm when my slave mentioned that I had to also worry about my mistress, in addition to my girlfriend. When my slave got to the part in the story about having to learn Erin's phone number, I decided to test her. "Slave, what is Erin's phone number?" "767-3251," my slave quickly replied. I waited for a second, before I asked again. "767-3251. I know it's right. I even made up a story to help me remember it: Traci has three best friends; two of them are lovers. There are five of us who live together, and one of them is a guy." I smiled, and softly asked, "Slave, what is Erin's phone number?" My poor slave was on the verge of tears, but Rose came to her rescue. She let out a fake cough, that sounded something like, "coug... aster" If it were a cartoon, I swear you would have seen a light bulb appear over Slave's head. She hurriedly said, "767-3251, Master." I nodded and said, "Slave, you earned yourself another six spankings; three for each time that I had to repeat myself, go on with your story." Traci gave me a dirty look when my slave described what she had done when we had gotten into the car to leave the adult bookstore. Before she could tear into me, I hastily pointed out that, since I had not done anything to earn a cigarette, then it was okay. Traci reluctantly agreed, and nodded grudgingly to let Slave finish her recitation. When Slave finished her story, almost twenty minutes had elapsed since we entered the car. Plenty of time had gone by for what we had planned to be ready, and since Lori was a safer driver than Slave was, I had her return. On the drive home, for once, I was glad that Lori stuck to her usual route. We lived so close to the school, it was hard to use alternate routes, and I always hated having to use the same one. That time, it was a blessing, as it prevented Lori from seeing any of her friends' cars. When we reached the front door of the house, I turned to Lori and asked, "Lori, how many spankings do I owe Slave today?" It was my slave's responsibility to remember her punishments; Lori added them up and said, "Eighteen. Wait a second..." We were walking into the foyer when she was saying that, so was caught by surprise when everybody inside greeted her with, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LORI!" ------- Lori's surprise seemed completely genuine, the lunchtime scene being so intense that she had forgotten that it was her birthday. The bulk of Lori's friends were her fellow cheerleaders, with the remaining being a few other girls that Lori knew. Jean had brought over Michelle and Pollyanna, since they also considered Traci's sister as a friend. Since the cheerleaders were having a cheer at the basketball game that evening, the food at the party was limited to cake and ice cream. The presents Lori received were mainly accessories and other various knickknacks. I happened to be watching Lori when she unwrapped Vicky's gift and caught the look of surprise on her face before she quickly masked it. She held up the item and asked carefully, "What is this for?" Vicky explained her gift of a riding crop. "For horses, silly. You didn't open the card, first." Lori opened envelope that had accompanied the gift. Inside were a birthday card and a gift certificate for a horse rental at the dunes. I somehow doubted that the horses at the dunes needed riding crops to ride them; the wink Vicky shot me confirmed that she had thought about other uses for her gift. When Lori finished unwrapping her presents, Joey observed, "Hey, didn't Chad give you anything?" I smiled and started to reply, but Lori cut me off. "I told you guys about the trip and how that counted as Chad's gifts for the rest of the year. Though, that doesn't explain why my sister didn't give me anything." Lori gave Traci a grin and Traci quickly replied, "I didn't have time to wrap it yet. I'll try to give it to you after the game tonight." The mention of the upcoming game reminded everybody that we needed to keep the party short. The party only lasted an hour before people had to head home to take care of stuff before the game. We ate a light supper before Lori drove Traci, Rose, Pollyanna, and Michelle to the game. Since Traci's squad was going to be taking over cheering the Junior Varsity games the following week, she needed to attend the JV game, which was being held before the Varsity one. I stayed home to help Marge and Jean with the cleanup. There was not a very big mess to deal with, and with three sets of hands, we accomplished the task swiftly. Marge and Jean were relaxing in the living room, so I retrieved a couple of wine coolers and a soda for myself from the kitchen and brought them the drinks. I had settled down in one of the chairs and was taking a swig of soda when Jean asked, "So, Chad, you need help wrapping Traci's gift for Lori?" Chingao! It was a conspiracy to wait until I was drinking something (preferably something carbonated) to ask me such questions. It took me a few seconds to recover from choking on the Mountain Dew Code Red and wiping the tears from my eyes. Both women were laughing at me, and they grew hysterical when I glared at them. "I take it that Traci told Michelle about her 'gift'," I said to Jean after she had calmed down somewhat. Jean grinned and nodded, saying "Between what Michelle and Marge have been telling me, it sounds like I need to be hanging out here more often." "Oh," thoughts about Traci's 'gift' were pushed aside as I arched my eyebrow and asked, "And just what has Marge been telling you?" Jean shrugged and said, "Not much, though I believe she did mention something about a tube of 'Anal-Eze'." Now it was our turn to laugh as Marge began to turn crimson. She pushed her friend lightly and said, "That's it. I'm never going to tell you anything again!" "You women talk too much as it is," I observed. The next thing I knew, I was receiving a lecture on the art of communication and the benefits of expressing one's emotional well-being. For a moment, I felt like I was on that bald psychologist's talk show. "Okay, I understand!" I said holding up my hands, "I just have to learn that there is no such thing as a secret among you all." Jean looked at Marge and said to her, "By Jove, I think he's got it." Marge grinned and replied, "It only took him four months to figure that out." "But," Jean said, turning her attention back towards me, "you still didn't answer my question about wrapping the 'gift'." ------- I talked to Jean and Marge for about an hour before heading to my bedroom to prepare for that evening. I found it amusing that, while it was Traci's gift to her sister, I somehow got roped into doing all the work. I set out the candles, but held off lighting them until I received the call from Traci, informing me that the basketball game was over. After making sure everything was in place, I headed into the bathroom to prepare myself. I stripped down and stood before the full-length mirror, examining myself. For the past month or two, Traci had been bugging me about getting a haircut. I had not cut my hair since I had moved to Central City, and it had gotten to the point where I could pull it into a small ponytail. Since I did not have the resources of the CYA, one of the easiest ways to alter my appearance quickly would be a radical change in hairstyles, but that was not something that I could explain to Traci. I then shifted my gaze down to my groin and debated about shaving. I had also begun to let my pubic hair grow back in after I had decided on the trip to Japan. Since I wanted to visit either a sento (public bath) or an onsen (hot spring), I thought it best to have at least some pubic hair. I was not at all self-conscious about being nude in front of others, but thought that I would avoid embarrassment for those seeing me. However, deciding that it was more important that things went smoothly that evening than worrying about some strangers' reactions, I went ahead and shaved my pubic region. I started off with an electric razor to take care of the bulk of it, then used a razor to finish off the rest in the shower. After making sure that I was well-cleaned (and smooth), I got out of the shower and toweled off. It took me about ten minutes to clean up the bathroom before I headed into the bedroom to put on a tee shirt and sweatpants. When I returned to the living room, I discovered Jean had left to pick up her daughter and Pollyanna at the high school. Marge had tuned the radio to a local AM station broadcasting the game. It was towards the end of the third quarter, and Marge told me that Jean had wanted to get there early to avoid traffic. Marge and I listened to the remainder of the game and rejoiced when the Central City Eagles beat the Paso Robles Bearcats. Traci called me shortly thereafter, so I went back to the bedroom to light the candles. Traci had insisted that the whole room be awash in candle light, so by the time I was done and returned to the living room, Lori was pulling into the driveway. The Cheshire grin that was plastered on my girlfriend's face had something to do with that night's plans, or so I thought. I discovered that was not the case when she excitedly said, "Guess who we saw at the game tonight." "Arthur Dent," I replied, saying the first name that popped in my head. Traci gave me a funny look and said, "No." Behind me, I heard Marge chuckle. She recognized the name, since it had been her copy of the book that I had read from which the name came. Undaunted, Traci pressed on, "I'll give you a hint: you met her this afternoon." I raised an eyebrow and looked at Lori for conformation. Lori blushed slightly and nodded. "Okay, I gotta hear this," I said. Once we were settled down in the living room, Traci launched into her story. "It happened during the Varsity game. I was sitting in the stands with Rose, Pollyanna and Michelle when this young woman, who had been sitting a few rows above us, came down and asked me if I was Chad Johnson's girlfriend. At first, I was surprised and could not figure out how she knew that." "Like the jacket you're wearing wasn't a clue," Rose commented. Traci glared at her friend for interrupting her story, but I noticed that Traci subconsciously run a hand over the letterman's jacket. "Anyway, when I said I was, that is when I took a good look at her and recognized her from Lori's description. Well, when I asked if she was Erin, she gave me a grin and nodded. We made room for her, and she sat down between me and Rose." Traci paused to take a breath, but everybody knew better than to interrupt her. "We got to talking, and Erin said that 'Chad must have a thing for brunette cheerleaders'. Well, I told her that I wasn't a cheerleader when I started dating you, but that my sister was. Well, when she heard me mention that Lori was my sister, she was flabbergasted. It took her a while to recover, but after she recovered, we continued to chat. Then she asked if Pollyanna, Michelle, and Rose were also your girlfriends, and Rose said something that made Pollyanna elbow her." I looked at Rose, but she just shrugged, saying, "All I said was that I had seen Chad naked plenty of times." I let out a snort and Marge and Traci chuckled. Lori filled in the rest of the story. "After the game was over, I was still with my fellow cheerleaders when I saw Erin approaching me. I actually froze for a moment, but Erin walked up and gave me a warm hug. After she broke the hug, she introduced herself as being an old friend of mine and wanted to give me my birthday present. I was hesitant about opening it in front of the others, afraid of what it might be, but she was insistent. Anyway, she gave me this necklace." Lori pulled out the necklace she was wearing, and I recognized the pendant that was hanging on it at once. I had learned about it during one of the sex seminars at The Compound. Judging from the lack of reaction of the others in the room, I gathered they did not know the significance of it. "That is a BDSM symbol," I explained. Lori looked surprised, but I hastened to reassure her. "I doubt any of your friends would have known what it meant. Even people into the scene might not know about it. It's kinda like a way for those in the know to recognize one another. You see how it looks like a Yin and Yang symbol, but with a third, err, thingamabob? That represents the three aspects of BDSM: bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism. It also stands for the creed: safe, sane, and consensual. Finally, it also represents the three divisions of BDSM: Tops, Bottoms, and Switches." Lori looked at her mother for confirmation, but Marge just shrugged, saying, "Hey, don't look at me. Your dad, aunt, and I just tried out a few things in college." "Actually," I explained further, "it is a relativity new symbol and would not have been around back then." "Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, you mean?" Marge asked with a twinkle in her eye. I let out a sigh. Marge kept up the charade that she was an old woman, despite her youthful appearance. I was going to give her a compliment when Lori asked, "So, you think it would be safe to wear at school?" I hesitated. "Well, that depends on what you define as safe. Do I think that most of our classmates would have no idea what that means? Yes. Will there be a few who might know what it is? Perhaps. One thing to keep in mind that people into the BDSM scene understand discretion. Take Erin for example--" "I bet you would," Rose muttered. I let that comment slide and continued on. "She did not come up to you, in front of all your friends, and announce where she had last seen you or that you were a slave. If anything, I practically invited her by mentioning the basketball game to her. Maybe discretion is something that other people might practice." Traci looked surprised when I looked at her when I made that last comment. "What?" she asked innocently. It was when Traci fluttered her eyelashes for effect that caused everyone else in the room not to buy the false act. "You just had to tell her that Lori was your sister." "Come on, she was bound to pick up on the family resemblance. I just couldn't let her think that you had some weird thing for brunette cheerleaders." I thought about Traci's words for a moment. My insistence that Traci try out for cheerleading was because I knew how much she had wanted to join the squad before she had met me. If she had no desires in being a cheerleader, I would not have forced her into becoming one. Still, an image of Marge wearing a cheerleader's outfit entered my mind, and I had to shake my head vigorously to clear it. I turned my attention to Rose. "And just how many times had y--, " "Wow! Look at the time, and it's a school night. Don't you need to be giving you present to Lori?" Rose interrupted me, giving Traci a pleading look. Traci jumped to her feet and told Lori, "Close your eyes." Lori had been smiling at the previous exchanges and gave her sister a suspicious look before complying. Traci guided Lori to her feet and began to lead her sister back to the master bedroom. I got up and followed them, since I filled a vital role in Traci's 'gift'. After the three of us entered the bedroom and had closed the door, Traci gave her sister a kiss on the cheek before telling her to open her eyes. Lori blinked her eyes a few times to get accustomed to the change in light levels. When she recognized where she was, she gave Traci a confused look. Traci gave Lori a warm smile and said, "My gift to you is a night alone with my boyfriend." And with that, Traci made a hasty exit, leaving me with a still-confused Lori. ------- Chapter 28 "If I'm in Virginia, does that make me a virgin?" -P. Hilton Lori was still confused for several seconds after Traci had left the master bedroom. When she had recovered her wits, she asked, "Chad, what is going on?" I took Lori's hand in mine and guided her to the edge of the bed. When we were both sitting down on it, I explained. "Your sister's warped brain came up with the idea that a night alone with me would be the 'perfect gift'. I spent nearly an hour trying to convince her otherwise, but you know how your sister can get when she sets her mind to something." Lori dumbly nodded, so I continued. "Finally, I relented and decided to leave the ball in your court. If you want to leave, I perfectly understand." "What would Master want?" Lori asked with a half-smile. I vehemently shook my head. "Tonight is your birthday, not Slave's. You need to understand something. I told myself that I would proceed slowly with you and Slave, sexually. Traci tipped my hand slightly by 'forcing' tonight upon us, but in a way, she was right. I should ultimately let you set the pace when it comes to Lori, and just worry about Slave." Lori smiled fully that time and said, "So in a way, I'm your master tonight. If I told you to kiss me..." Lori's voice trailed off as I leaned into her. She closed her eyes, and I softly pressed my lips upon hers, applied gentle pressure, and allowed our lips to linger briefly before pulling away. "Then I would kiss you," I said, completing her sentence. Lori's eyes fluttered open, and we stared at one another. Lori's breathing had accelerated slightly and a slight flush had started to develop. Cautiously, I stated, "There is something you need to know before we proceed further. I might have told you this before, and I'll be repeating essentially the same thing that I told your mother, but I love Traci with all my heart. I don't know if I am capable of loving more than one person at a time, but if I could, I could foresee myself falling in love with you and Marge. Even then, I am sure that Traci would still fill larger role in my heart. I also view intercourse in three categories: fucking, sex, and making love. Fucking is just that, pure sexual gratification without any emotions attached; something that Slave will experience often. Making love is... well, waxing poetic, 'two souls become one'. Most of the time, when I am with Traci, we make love; we pour our hearts and souls into one another. Sex falls between the two; it is less than making love, but more than just fucking." I had now added a fourth category -- rape -- but I did not voice that. The only person that I would ever consider raping would be Vincent Delamater, and that would be with a hot fire poker. Even then, I doubt he would notice it much, since I would have castrated him with a rusty knife before then. However, thoughts of doing vile things to Lori's rapist were ones that had no right to be present that evening, so I pushed them aside and said, "Depending how far we go tonight, I can foresee us having sex, verging on making love, but your sister possesses my heart, soul, and now, letterman's jacket." Lori chuckled, and I was glad to see that my joke helped lighten the atmosphere. Lori closed her eyes again and leaned towards me. I quickly picked up the signal and kissed her again. This time, I pressed my lips to her bottom lip and gently sucked upon it before moving up and kissing her. Our kisses were slow and sweet, and after about a half a minute, I felt her tongue seeking entrance into my mouth. I eagerly accepted it, and soon our tongues were in a duel between our mouths. When we broke the kiss, Lori's flush had increased and her breathing had become more erratic. I reached up and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. I then wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace. We held each other for a minute before I asked, "So, am I a better kisser than Erin?" Lori giggled, answering, "I don't kiss and tell." I pulled back slightly and turned my head. I began to nibble on Lori's earlobe, which drew an appreciative moan from her. I then drew my tongue and lips along her jawbone, her skin salty from perspiration. After I reached her chin, I kissed her on the nose before moving to her exposed shoulder. Since the basketball game had been an indoor affair, the cheerleaders had worn their sleeveless tops. When I started to guide my mouth to her armpit, Lori recoiled in shock. "Chad, don't! I stink. I haven't showered all day." I gave her a reassuring smile and replied, "You smell fine." "Please," she replied with a pleading look. I knew no amount of persuasion could convince Lori otherwise, so I stood up and then pulled her to her feet. I took her hand and started towards the master bathroom. Confused again, she asked, "What are you doing?" "I'm going to wash you," I explained as we entered the bathroom. Lori pointed out, "I can wash myself." "It's more fun this way. Now, you want to take a shower, bath, or both?" Lori thought for a moment before replying, "Shower." I moved around Lori and unzipped her top. After helping her remove her top, I ran my fingertips along her exposed back. She shuddered slightly and began to remove her sports bra. Because of the cut of her cheerleading outfit, I had decided that it was one of the few times that she was allowed to wear a bra. While she was removing that, I unzipped her pleated cheerleading skirt and allowed it to fall to the ground. When she reached down to remove her briefs and underwear, I stepped back and removed my tee shirt and sweatpants. When Lori turned around, a gasp escaped from her lips. It was the first time that she had seen me fully naked. Since she had attended my water polo games, she had seen me wearing my Speedos often, and while that night I had dropped my pants in front of everybody might have been a distant memory, the replica of my cock should have made her accustomed to my real one. Still, it seemed that any sexual flush that she possessed turned to one of embarrassment as she gazed at me. "It looks so much bigger," Lori said after what seemed like an eternity. While I was nowhere near being fully erect, blood had began to relocate to the lower portion of my anatomy. When I made my cock jump, Lori let out a little squeal. Smiling, I reassured her, "Trust me; it is no larger than Slave's toy." Lori gave me a dubious look. Meanwhile, I went over and began to run the water. Since the fuel cell constantly provided hot water, it was just a matter of getting the right temperature before switching the knob to shower. After I got in, I held my hand out to Lori. She hesitated for a moment before taking my hand and joining me under the warm water. After a minute of letting the water pour over her body, I grabbed the bar of soap and began to wash her right arm. When I reached her armpit and felt the stubble of the hair that was growing in, I asked, "Have you had any trouble with this at school?" Lori was facing away from me as she shook her head negatively. "No -- well, a couple of girls on the squad asked me if I was going for the 'French look', but they didn't really tease me or anything, otherwise." I started to nod, but realized that she was unable to see my head movement as she was. As I lathered the soap under her armpit, I asked, "What about in how it feels, in general? Are you getting used to it?" "Yeah, I am. It itched a little at first as it started to grow in, but I am acquiescing to it." I chuckled and said, "You sure do like using words you learned for the SATs." Lori nodded as I began to run the soap along her side. When I reached her right hip, I brought the soap to her back and began to scrub it. When I was finished with it, I proceeded to wash her left arm in reverse order from how I had washed her right. I then reached around and began to wash her torso. While I tried to remain clinical, I noticed that my hands seemed to linger when it came to cleaning her breasts. Lori picked up on that and leaned back slightly until she felt my cock brush up against her buttocks. I felt her tense up, so I pulled my groin back so that the protruding member would not make further contact with her. When my hand began to roam below her navel, she reached down and placed her hand over mine. "I can take care of the rest," she told me. Passing the bar of soap to her, I asked, "Which shampoo do you want?" Lori looked at the shower shelf and let out a giggle. There were eight different bottles of shampoo and five conditioners lined along the shelf. My combination shampoo/conditioner seemed out of place among the fancy labels. While Traci had somewhat kept her promise of limiting her 'girly' stuff in the bedroom, the bathroom had been an entirely different matter. "I've always been fond of Herbal Essences," Lori said. I let out a snort. "That helps! There are four different ones." "Kiwi," she replied as she leaned forward to wash her legs. Lori had longer hair than her sister did, so I squirted a larger amount of shampoo into my hand. When she straightened back up, I began to massage the shampoo into her hair. After working up a good lather, I instructed her to turn around and rinse it out. While Lori had her head back under the flowing water, she had eyes closed. Quietly, I lowered my head and gave her left nipple a kiss. She flinched at the unexpected contact, but when she did not pull away, I opened my lips and drew her nipple into my mouth. I began to run my tongue across the tip of it as I began to suck softly. "Mmmmm. Now I see why Traci is always so clean," Lori observed. By the time I had moved to her right breast, Lori had finished rinsing her hair and was looking down at me. I kept my eyes locked on hers as I applied equal treatment to her right nipple. When I pulled away from her breast, I asked, "Which conditioner?" "Kurwa Mać, I'm not stinky anymore." Grinning, I reached around Lori and shut off the shower. Not only had she used a phrase that she had heard me use, but for the most part, she had used it correctly. Though, I doubted she knew it meant 'fuck it' or that it was Polish. When I began to towel her off, she took the towel from me and began to dry herself off at a faster pace. I grabbed another towel and wiped off the excess water that accumulated on me. When we finished, I took her hand, but this time she was the one to lead me back into the bedroom. Reaching the bed, I pulled Lori into me, and we shared a passionate French kiss. I felt Lori pull back slightly when she felt my hardening member brush up against her, but soon she relaxed and began to press her body against my cock. Our hands ran along one another's backs, and after about a minute, we broke the kiss. "Wow, it is so much warmer than the other one," Lori commented. She had reached down and gently wrapped her fingers around my mostly-erect cock. I did not mind the comparison between Slave's phallic replica and the genuine article. Lori was looking down at what her hand was holding, so I kissed the top of her head. Lori ran her hand along my cock a couple of times before sinking to her knees. I do not know if it was habitual, but she assumed first position with her knees spread. I stood still and allowed her to get a closer look at her handiwork. Her digital manipulations soon brought me to full mast; a drop of precum had started to ooze from the head. Lori stuck out her tongue and hesitantly licked the tip. She then wrapped her warm lips around the head of the cock. I marveled at the feeling of Lori's mouth on my cock. She ran her tongue along my glans as she applied gentle suction. She then began to slowly bob her head on my penis while her right hand began to stroke along the base. I then felt her left hand softly cup my testicles; she began to gently fondle them, all the while working her mouth further along my shaft. It appeared that Slave's training had paid off, as Lori proceeded to give me one of the best blowjobs in my life. She practically worshipped my cock as she varied both speed and technique. Occasionally, she would remove her mouth from around my manhood to run her tongue along its length. She licked my balls a couple of times before sucking them into her mouth, making sure not to apply too much pressure with her suction. A few times, I felt myself come close to spilling my seed, but reviewing quadratic equations helped stave off the inevitable. I think Lori also sensed when I was reaching my limit and would back off on what she was doing. As powerful as math was, I knew that if I did not take matters into my own hands, I would end up coming in Lori's mouth. I reached down and pushed gently on her shoulders. When she stopped her oral ministrations and looked up, I gave her a smile and said, "My turn." Lori looked confused at first as I helped her to her feet. I then sat her down on the bed and leaned forward, giving her a kiss on the lips. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before I pushed her back onto the bed. Positioning myself over her, we shared a longer, more passionate kiss. I then began trailing kisses down her body until I reached her breasts. I ran my tongue around her puffy, erect right nipple before sucking it into my mouth. I mimicked her blowjob technique, although on a much smaller scale: applying different amounts of suction, using my tongue to swipe across the tip, moving my mouth away from the nipple to lick around her areola before returning. One thing that I did that she had not done (much to my relief) was to bite softly. As focused as I was to my task, I kept my ears open and listened to how she responded. Her moans of pleasure told me that she found it most enjoyable, so I repeated the same process on her left breast. After I had spent the same amount of time on her left breast (balance after all), I then continued my descent down her body. After I had reached her navel, I shifted off the bed and sank to my knees between her legs. She had her legs open, and even in the candlelight, I could see that she was dripping wet. Again, I copied her and gave her a tentative lick before attacking her sweet valley. It seemed that I had worked Lori up pretty good, because it only took a couple of swipes of my tongue against her clitoris to send her into spasms. I continued my assault, with my tongue drawing out her orgasm as long as possible. When Lori finally came down, I relented slightly but continued to eat her out. I was tracing my tongue along the outer edge of her labia majora when I noticed Lori's right hand had reached down and begun to rub her fingers just above the hood of her clit. Lori let out a gasp of surprise when my tongue left her pussy and continued south. I licked along her perineum, the area between the vagina and anus. Her gasp soon became moans when I applied pressure with my lips. I then proceeded to her rosebud and began to tease it with my tongue. Her moans grew louder so I spent a minute teasing and probing her sphincter with my tongue before returning to her pussy. Since Lori's fingers were taking care of her clit, I dove into the mouth of her pussy. Stiffening my tongue, I began to plunge it in and out of her opening. I then removed my head and lubricated a couple of fingers of my right hand with my saliva before replacing them where my tongue had been. I had assumed Lori's cheerleading had made her slightly looser than her sister. Still, she was rather tight, and I began to doubt my wisdom of using two fingers. She seemed to loosen up slightly as I slowly began to finger-fuck her. As she began to approach her orgasm, I stopped with my fingers still inside her and began to curl them up, massaging the upper wall of her vagina. I began to lightly rub my fingers along her urethral glands. When my fingers made contact with a certain point, a jolt shot through Lori. Her hand froze and her eyes flew open. She lifted her head to look down at me. She asked, "What was that?" I grinned, replying, "It looks like we found your G-spot." She lowered her head and began her rubbing again. Now that I had located the spot that I had been searching for, I kept my fingers pressed upon it and renewed my gentle stroking. The interruption had stalled Lori's impending orgasm, so I thought I would try something else. I brought the middle finger of my left hand up to my mouth and made sure it was nice and wet before lowering it to her asshole. The fingers on her clit paused when she felt me make contact with her nether orifice, but they resumed their rubbing. I was soon rubbing her sphincter in a small circle with my middle finger while my other hand was busy stroking her G-spot. As Lori once again started to reach the summit of her orgasm, I began to apply more pressure with both hands, the two fingers on my right hand rubbing her G-spot more firmly. Lori's breathing grew faster and more labored, her moans gradually increasing in volume. I felt the walls of her pussy spasm around my fingers, and that is when I pressed my finger into her anal passage. The combination of the stimulation of her clit, G-spot, and asshole was too much, and she let out a wail as the orgasm passed through her body. Unlike her first orgasm, she actually squirted fluid from her urethra into the palm of my hand. Lori's whole body shook as wave after wave passed through her body. When she moved her hand away from her clit, I moved my head forward and began to lap at it with my tongue. That stimulation, along with my fingers, seemed to draw out her orgasm for three-fourths of a minute. When she moaned, "No more," I withdrew my fingers and began to lap up her juices, careful to avoid her sensitive clit. After I had collected a majority of her sweet secretions, I climbed up onto the bed and laid next to her, my head propped up by my left elbow. Lori looked so peaceful as she lay there with her eyes closed, trying to get control of her breathing. I reached out with my right hand and gently stroked her left cheek. When she opened her eyes, she turned her head and gave me a weak smile. I leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "You're so beautiful," I told her. "What's wrong?" Lori asked, the smile fading from her face and turning to one of concern. I guessed I had been unsuccessful in hiding my own emotions, and it was my turn to give her a weak smile. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how much I wish I could tell you that 'I love you', but we both know those words would not hold much weight. Your sister possess my love and I truly wish I was able to share it with those I care about equally, but in the end, she still comes first. I care about you deeply; your happiness and well-being are things that I constantly think about. I just wish there was a word to express it properly was all." Tears had begun to well up in Lori's eyes, the sincerity of my words affecting her. She sniffed and brought up a hand to wipe them away. After a moment, she smiled and asked, "So, if love was a scale, with Traci being a ten, where would I be?" "Nine," I replied without hesitation, "same as Marge." "And your love for anime?" I gave that question some thought before answering. "Nine point five." Her grin told me that we both knew I was joking. I kissed her forehead and when I started to pull back, she reached up and guided my head back down, this time to her lips. Our kisses started off as chaste at first, but they gradually grew more passionate. When we did break our kiss, I saw a familiar look of desire in her eyes and she said, "Chad, I want to feel you inside of me." I hated to ask my next question, but I knew that its importance outweighed the chance that it might dampen the mood. "You're still taking the pill, right?" Lori nodded. That was all that I needed. Marge had informed me that she had put her oldest daughter on the pill back when she was a sophomore. It was immediately after Lori had approached her mom about being tested for STDs that Marge knew that birth control was needed for Lori. At the time, Marge did not press her daughter for details on why she needed to be tested, but the timeframe put it right around when that gaandu (asshole) was dating her. Marge had been refilling the prescription ever since, but that was no guarantee that her oldest daughter was taking them, especially since Lori had seemed to lose all interest in dating since then. Lori parted her legs, and I positioned myself between them. Any loss of erection that I had suffered during our little chat had been reversed with the passionate kissing. Running my cockhead along her moist channel, I knew that additional lubrication was not needed. I slowly eased the head of my cock into her vaginal passage and looked at Lori one last time for confirmation. Lori was lightly biting her bottom lip but nodded. She also brought her legs up and wrapped them around my waist, urging me to plow into her. Even though I had told Lori that she was in control that evening, I still felt that ramming into her at full speed would be painful for her. Instead, I resisted her leg muscles (which were rather strong) and kept my descent into her pussy at a slow pace. The sensation of the tight walls of her vagina enveloping my penis was almost overwhelming, and when I had buried my sword as far as I could go into her sheath, I paused to regain control of my body. Lori had closed her eyes while I had been making my initial slide into her, and when she felt me stop moving, they opened. As our eyes locked, I felt a twinge in my heart. The look on Lori's face was identical to one that I had seen on Traci's often: a mixture of desire, caring, and longing. Once again, I wished that I could tell the beautiful creature that lay beneath me that I loved her. Lori, seeming to know what was going through my mind, gave me a reassuring smile. My reply was to pull back and begin my descent again, that time at a slightly quicker pace. It was in short order that I was no longer resisting Lori's legs but allowing my cock to piston in and out of her pussy at her chosen tempo. The smile on Lori's face faded as the pleasure from her loins swept through her body. Moans escaped from her parted lips, and our eyes remained locked upon each other. Thus, she instantly saw that something was wrong when I suddenly winced in agony. "I'm sorry, Chad!" Lori cried out. It was my turn to give Lori a reassuring smile. "Remember what I said about learning Kegel exercises? Forget it; your pussy is tight enough." Lori nodded, but it looked to me that she felt guilty. It was while I was making a downstroke into Lori's love channel that the walls of her pussy suddenly clamped down upon my cock. The problem was that her pussy had been rather tight to begin with, so the additional pressure had caused a great deal of pain to me. Luckily, any damage had been temporary and my manhood was not out of commission for the rest of the evening. Still, I was a tad tentative when I renewed my motion. Lori's guilt quickly faded as we worked our way back up to tempo. I knew that the interruption had disrupted Lori's climb towards orgasm, so I figured a change in positions was in order. I was determined that she would come during intercourse. Lori's first time was with a yut-gat-toon-nom (stupid fucker) who had to resort to drugs to have his way with her. Even then, it had been quick, and the only thing Lori had experienced was pain and discomfort. I vowed to make my night with her a memorable one. When I bottomed out in Lori, I took my right hand and slid it under her back. I then lifted her up and leaned back on my knees, her legs instinctually unwrapping themselves from around my waist and her feet planting themselves on the bed. When Lori had shifted her weight forward, I removed my hand from around her back and moved it to join my left, which was behind me supporting our weight. The sudden shift in positions startled her, so I explained, "Remember earlier when we located your G-spot? This time, you need to find it since I won't be using my fingers." It took a moment for Lori's brain to register what I had said, but when it did, a grin erupted across her face. I remained motionless as Lori began explore what angle provided her with the most pleasure. Lori let out a small yelp when my cock brushed against her sensitive spot. Once she located it, she began to ride me harder, and it was not long until she had reached the point of coming. She eased off slightly and asked, "Are you close?" Indeed, I was very close to coming, as well. Traci had made it a point for me not to come for about a week, the last time being when we had made love after Slave was punished for having her notebook read by Vicky. At first, I thought it was to prevent me from 'earning' cigarettes, but it all made sense when she confessed her idea of the 'perfect gift' for her sister. She told me that she wanted me to 'come a gallon' for Lori. I tried to point out to her that the human body does not work like that, but she refused to listen. On the other hand, Traci had had plenty of orgasms the previous week, thanks to my tongue and fingers. Traci's plan did seem to make me more sensitive and less enduring than usual. After I nodded and let out an affirmative grunt, Lori said, "Come when I do," and she began to resume her pace. I began to move my hips to meet her descent along my cock, and I let out a groan as my cum shot into her pussy. I think the sensation of my hot semen filling her was the catalyst for Lori, as she let out a cry, her body twitching as an orgasm rocked her body. Even as my cock was blasting into her wonderfully tight orifice, my left arm moved up to support her back as she arched her body. I let out a huge sigh as my cock let out its final shot of semen. My body did feel as if a gallon of cum had been released, but my mind knew it was more likely a few tablespoons. It seemed that Lori's third orgasm had taken a toll on her, as her body had gone limp, my arm supporting her weight. I leaned forward and eased her onto the bed, our organs becoming dislodged in the process. I flopped down beside her, my body being spent, as well. It took a few minutes for our breathing to return to normal. When Lori seemed to recover her senses, she told me, "If you want to smoke, I don't mind." "Nine point six." "What?" confusion evident in her tone. I explained, "For letting me have a cigarette, I've bumped you to nine point six." Lori chuckled, but let out a gasp of astonishment when I announced, "I smoked my last one two days ago." "You quit smoking?" I let out a snort and said, "Worse, I ran out." Lori was silent for a moment and then suddenly said, "You know, I'm eighteen now an--," "No," I said, cutting her off. "Traci would never forgive you if you bought cigarettes for me. I'll find a way get ahold of them. Hopefully, I can find somebody that can stay out of the reach of my girlfriend." Lori let out a chuckle, and I felt around for her hand. When my left hand had found her right, I clasped it and gave it a gentle squeeze. I sensed her moving, so I turned my head to see her looking at me. We both shared a smile, and she raised my hand above my head. She then rolled over so that she was straddling my hips. She took my other hand and moved it over my head, as well. Leaning forward, she kissed me on the lips. It was a soft kiss that only lasted a moment before she broke it. She then released my hands and began to trail kisses down my body. I kept my hands where they were and enjoyed the sensation of her long hair tickling my torso. She mimicked my behavior from earlier, using her tongue to tease my nipples before sucking them into her mouth, her body sliding back the further south she traveled. When her lips had reached my navel, I dumbly asked, "What are you doing?" She looked up at me and grinned. "Getting you hard again." "Are you sure? Our Calculus final is tomorrow," I observed. "And the next time Traci might let me have a night alone with you might be a year from now. I'm sure." Seeing the wisdom in her words, I did not protest any further. Unlike her sister, Lori did not even hesitate when her tongue encountered our combined juices for the first time. However, it seemed that both the Caspar sisters enjoyed the taste of themselves mixed with my essence. It only took a few minutes for Lori's talented mouth to resurrect my cock. Once it appeared to Lori that I had achieved a full erection, she removed her lips and crawled off me. She then positioned herself on all fours, facing away from me. I took her cue and got up to move myself behind her. As I began to position my cock to the entrance of her pussy, she reached back to block her opening. "I want it in the other hole," she said. It was a good thing that Lori had not seen my reaction -- laughter typically does not have a positive effect on a hard-on. I tried to hide being flabbergasted from my voice when I articulately asked, "Say what?" "I want you, and not Master, to take my anal cherry," she explained. Looking down at the saliva-coated cock that I grasped in my hand; I knew that it was nowhere near being lubricated enough for her backdoor passage. There were only two tubes of Anal Eze in the house: one down in the Dungeon and the other up in Marge's room. I scrambled off the bed and rummaged through the bedside drawer for the bottle of Astroglide. I had kept it there just in case if Traci was ever not lubricated enough for sex, but we had never had to resort to it. I crawled back to Lori and then opened the bottle of lubricant. I made sure my cock was well coated, then began to apply it to Lori's rosebud. I was careful to not press too hard as I slowly worked the lubricant into her anus. I began to gently run the tip of my forefinger along her anal ring in a circular motion. After a minute of two of massaging Lori's anus, it began to open up slightly, her muscles beginning to relax. I applied some additional lubricant to my finger and then slowly inserted my finger, trying to coat the walls of the newly-accessible passage. Once I felt that we were lubricated enough, I decided to throw caution to the wind and comply with Lori's request. I placed my cockhead against her asshole and slowly applied pressure. While Lori's sphincter had opened slightly, it took some effort to get the head of my cock inside her. Once the orifice had enveloped my cockhead, I paused to let Lori get accustomed to the sensation. When she began to push back, urging me to proceed further, I complied. I pressed on and I was only a couple of inches into her when she let out a moan. Unable to determine if it was pleasure or pain, I asked, "You okay?" "Yeah," she said, though her reply sounded as if it was through gritted teeth. "It just hurts a little, but I'll get used to it. Keep going." Unsure, I remained motionless. However, Lori began to press back again, so I renewed my trek into uncharted territory. I had my cock halfway into her bowels when she exclaimed, "Jesus, you there yet?" "Almost," I fibbed, "and the name's Chad, not Jesus." Lori let out a snort of laughter, and I felt her relax slightly. I pulled back, easing my cock out so that just the tip of my cock remained in her, before plunging back in. I decided to keep my strokes shallow and gradually work my way deeper into her anal passage. Keeping my left hand firmly on her hip, I reached down with my right and began to manipulate her clitoris with my fingers. It seemed that the additional stimulation was all that Lori needed, as she began to moan in pleasure. Still, part of me knew that she must be experiencing pain, so I wanted to keep it as brief as possible. I did not try to hold off as I worked my way towards orgasm; the friction of the tight walls of her anus combined with the lubricant being overstimulating as it was. What startled me was when Lori began to shudder in an orgasm. I had thought for sure that she would be unable to with the discomfort that she was feeling, but she proved me wrong. She was coming down from her climax when I felt my own impending orgasm. I moved my hand away from her clit and to her hip, pulling back on her as I made my deepest thrust, my cock filling her completely and shooting the second (albeit, much smaller) load of the evening. Lori let out a cry and shuddered again as a mini-orgasm wracked through her body. There was a slight 'pop' when I removed my cock from Lori's orifice and I fell back, exhausted. When Lori turned and began to crawl towards my spent manhood, I stopped her. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked. "I was going to clean you, like before. I've seen girls do that in pornos before." Shaking my head, I explained, "Yeah, but what you don't see is that they usually had enemas beforehand. I'm sure there are traces of fecal matter on my cock, and the answer to the questionnaire you filled out said you had no interest in scat." She stared at my slowly deflating cock, and I sensed her reflecting on my words. After a couple of moments, she continued to crawl up and lay on her side next to me, her head resting on my left arm. I turned my head and gave her a peck on the forehead. After a moment's recovery, I took a deep breath, slid my arm out from under Lori's head, and began to get up. She pushed me back down and asked, "Where are you going?" "To the bathroom to take a piss and retrieve a couple of washcloths for us." Lori removed her hand, and when I got out of bed, she did as well. She followed me into the bathroom. When I lifted the seat of the toilet (Traci had not followed through on her threat of Super-Gluing it down), Lori meekly asked, "Can I hold it for you?" A grin erupted across the brunette's face when I nodded. She pressed her body against my back and reached around with her right hand to grab ahold of my penis. I helped her aim my organ and let out a sigh as a stream of urine burst forth from me. Since I was unable to have a post coitus cigarette, I knew that the after-sex piss was something to relish. Even then, it seemed to end all too quickly, and I instructed Lori to give my cock a couple of shakes. I moved to flush the toilet when she stopped me. "I need to go as well," she informed me. She released her grip upon me and I stepped aside, lowering the toilet seat as I did. I moved over to the sink and began to run a couple of washcloths underneath some warm water. Lori let out a little yelp of pain, and I quickly turned around to look at her. Her face was winced in pain, but she had noticed my reaction and reassured me, "I'm okay. It just hurts a little trying to take a crap." I moved over to her and kissed the top of her head. I stroked her hair with my left hand and tried to come up with an apology when she stopped me. "Don't, Chad, it's okay. Really. I'll get used to it." She then reached out and grabbed ahold of one of the washcloths that I was holding in my other hand and took it from me. She began to clean my cock with the warm washcloth, only pausing occasionally to try to empty her bowels. Suddenly, she dropped the washcloth and both her hands gripped her knees as she let out a low groan. The groan turned to a sigh of relief as shit and semen began to empty into the toilet bowl. I tried to keep a straight face and suppress my urge to laugh when she emitted a rather loud fart, but let myself go when she began to laugh herself. It seemed that the laughing caused a succession of small quick farts, and that only caused us to increase our laughter. Once Lori regained control of her body, she began to gather some toilet paper, so I picked up the washcloth that she had dropped and returned to the sink. After a minute, I heard the toilet flush, and Lori came up to me, took the unused washcloth from me and began cleaning herself. When we returned to the bedroom, I began to blow out the candles. I figured Lori was going to do the same when she moved away from me. It was not until I heard the bedroom door open that I realized my mistake, and by the time I had turned around, she had already left. I was halfway done extinguishing the candles when Lori returned. She was practically dragging her little sister into the room and announced, "Guess who was still up, and you won't believe what she was doing." I grinned at the two nude girls, as I had a very good idea of what my girlfriend had been up to. Her sexual flush could have easily been confused with one of embarrassment, if it were not for her erect nipples betraying her. Also, I had noticed the absence of her battery-powered toy from the bedside drawer when I had retrieved the Astroglide. Traci protested, "I said you could spend the night alone with him." Lori released her grip on her sister's hand and turned to face her. Shaking her head, Lori said, "You two have not spent a night apart since we moved in, and I'm not going to be the one to break it." The contrast in poses the two girls were in was interesting. Lori stood with her hands on her hips; feet spread shoulder-length apart, and her back straight. Traci, on the other hand, had raised her left arm to cover her breasts, put her right hand down to cover her sex, pressed her legs together, and was slightly hunched. I figured it was wisest (and safest) for the two girls to work out their differences between themselves, so I continued to snuff out the candles. "Fine, but you spend the night with him, too. Just don't try any lezzy stuff with me. It's freaky enough that Mom told us she'd been having 'urges' involving you and me," I heard my girlfriend tell her sister. So, Marge informed them of her recent desires. Will wonders never cease, I thought to myself. When I finished putting out the candles, I found both girls in bed, waiting for me. I had to crawl over Traci to get between the two of them, and once I was snuggly underneath the covers, I had a minor dilemma. I resolved it as best I could, but it turned out that my first choice had been incorrect, as Traci pushed me away from spooning her. "Cuddle with Lori," she instructed me. I gave her a smile and a quick kiss on the nose before turning to my other side and wrapping my arm around Lori's waist. Her back was pressed into my chest, and I felt Traci move around until she was pressing her breasts against my back. She began to run the fingers of one of her hands through my hair as I quickly fell into a deep slumber. ------- Chapter 29 "I thought they said to stick my fingers in THE dyke." - A Little Dutch Boy I awoke Tuesday morning with a hard-on. Being a typical male teenager, this was not an uncommon event. While I could not recall the exact details of the dreams that I had just had, chances were that my erection was not linked to a 'wet dream' but had more to do with the hand that was slowly stroking my cock. With Lori's head on my left arm and my right hand on her hip, I was able to rule myself off the list of suspects. Watching Lori's breathing pattern, it appeared that she was sound asleep, so that eliminated her. Leaving the only remaining bedmate... "Morning, Traci," I said softly, turning my head to the right to least disturb Lori. The hand on my cock disappeared; I felt Traci shift before her lovely face entered my field of vision. She had a wide grin on her face. We exchanged a quick kiss on the lips, and I removed my right hand from Lori to began to reach up to Traci, but she slipped away from my grasp. From Traci's expression, I knew that nothing but trouble could arise if I did not keep track of her. Jeopardizing Lori's slumber, I rolled from my left side and onto my back. Even trying to keep my left arm still, Lori's head did end up shifting a tad, but she appeared to remain sound asleep. At least in my new position, I could now keep track of Traci. The disadvantage (I soon discovered) was that it made me more vulnerable to attack. Traci turned down the covers so that my cock was exposed to the open air. She then lay down next to me and renewed her hand job, but at a very slow pace. "I want to watch the two of you," Traci whispered into my ear. "Mmm," I replied softly, enjoying the sensation of my girlfriend's hand. "I thought it was Lori's night alone with me." "Well, she voided that when she brought me into the bedroom. Besides, it's morning." A sliver of light was peeking through the curtains, and while it was technically dawn, it was still about an hour before Traci and I usually got up on a school day. "She might not be interested. From what I've seen, Lori isn't as horny as you." "Yes she is!" both girls replied in unison. Traci giggled as Lori rolled over to face me. I received a heartwarming smile from Lori as she placed her left hand on my chest and slowly began moving it down to join her sister's. "When did you wake up?" I asked after giving her a peck on the nose. "About a minute ago," she replied. "And I don't mind if Traci watches us." Lori's head was still on my left arm, so I had to slide it out from under her; once it was free, I reached down to feel Lori's sex. She parted her legs when she realized where my hand was going. I felt that, while she was moist, she was nowhere near being wet enough for intercourse. "Well, I see two choices: stop playing with my cock while I get Lori wet enough for sex, or use that vial of Astroglide." Lori's left hand had just passed my navel when I listed the options. She paused and then lifted her head to check the time. Biting her bottom lip, I could see the debate in her eyes before she rolled away to retrieve the lubricant from the bedside table. After she used the Astroglide on herself, she squirted some on the head of my cock, which Traci quickly applied. Traci released her grip on me when Lori moved to straddle my hips. Reaching down, Lori took ahold of my rigid member and guided it into her. Even with the lubricant, I only made it three-fourths of the way into her before she stopped. She rose up slightly and then began to work my cock in and out of her pussy using short and shallow strokes. The hand that Traci had been using on my cock began to wander down towards its owners pussy when I stopped her. "Straddle my face," I instructed my girlfriend. I received a grin as she quickly moved to comply. When Traci started to mount my noggin facing the headboard, I asked, "Didn't you want to watch your sister?" A few seconds passed while Traci hesitated. When she did turn to face her sister, I heard her say, "Don't you dare try any dyke stuff with me." Lori, who had worked her way down so that my entire cock could fill her pussy, paused and chuckled. "Paranoid much? My homophobic sister." "You mean 'my kind and wonderful sister who is generous enough to share her boyfriend, so I better be grateful', don't you?" Traci quickly retorted. I heard Lori chuckle as my view of her was replaced by the beautiful sight of my girlfriend's pussy being lowered over my mouth. I knew that I would not last long with the sensory overload of a warm, tight pussy on my cock and the savory taste of another on my lips. I decided to keep my mind off the situation by trying out a technique that I had heard from a comedy CD that Mike Richards had lent me. While the comedian's routine had been extremely crude and raunchy, the idea of 'tonguing the alphabet' seemed like it should be fun to try. As wet as Traci was before my tongue made contract with her, I began to suspect that her left hand had not remained idle while her right had been busy with my cock. When I reached the letter 'J', Traci's knees clamped tight around my ears and she achieved an orgasm. Traci kept her sensitive pussy away from my tongue for a minute before she lowered herself and I could resume my recitation. What surprised me was, when I reached the letter 'V', I heard Lori say that she was getting close. I did not even think that Lori would have an orgasm during our morning session with as little time as she had to be aroused; nevertheless, I began to thrust my hips up to meet her descents, and when I shot my meager little load, Lori quickly followed. I had paused my tongue action when I climaxed and was going to start over with the lower cases when Traci dismounted herself from my face. Lori also dislodged herself from me, but she kept a firm grip on my slowly softening cock. Tilting it slightly towards Traci in offering, my girlfriend vehemently shook her head, to which Lori shrugged and lowered her mouth upon it. Apparently, as much as Traci enjoyed the combined taste of her and me, she did not want to see what flavor her sister and I had created. Lori's masterful mouth mainly concentrated on cleaning rather than reviving my spent organ. With the prospect of math finals later on that day, we all knew that we could not afford to miss school, despite the fun we could have instead. When Lori finished cleaning my cock, I quickly rolled to my right. Traci's eyes widened in surprise as I held myself over her. I flashed her a grin before I continued to roll past her and got out of bed. Traci's right hand continued to idly rub her clit, something she had started while she had been watching her sister service my cock. When it became apparent that I was heading towards the bedroom door instead of the bathroom, Lori asked, "Where are you going?" "Probably to smoke the three cigarettes he earned this morning," supplied Traci without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. What I had found most interesting about her mistaken observation was that she had included Lori's orgasm as a cigarette-earning one. When we had negotiated what earned a cigarette, sex with others had not been brought up. After all, as addicted to smoking as I was, I was not an (complete) idiot. Lori grinned and gave me a wink that her sister did not see. I had not informed Traci that I had run out of cigarettes and had hoped to hide any signs of withdrawal. "I'm getting us some bottled water. I don't know about you two, but I'm thirsty." Both girls nodded, but Traci protested, "At least put something on! Rose might be up." It was still rather early for the redhead to be in the kitchen, but I complied with my girlfriend's wishes and donned my yukata. After all, adding to the number of times Rose had seen me naked was the last thing that I needed. "Why don't you two jump in the shower, and I'll join you when I get back," I suggested. Dodging a pillow that Traci threw at me, I made a hasty retreat. When I reached the kitchen, it was not Rose but Marge who was up. She was sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, reading the newspaper while drinking a cup of coffee. She smiled when I came in and greeted me. "Morning, Casanova." I rolled my eyes at her and retrieved the bottles of water from the fridge. An evil impulse flashed in my mind and I acted quickly on it before reasoning had a chance to interfere. I set the water on the counter and walked over to Marge. She had looked up to see me approaching and when I leaned down to kiss her, she closed her eyes. They only remained closed for a second before they flew open in surprise, the taste registering in her mind. Still, it was I who ended up breaking the heated kiss. "Bastard!" Marge spat, her breathing beginning to grow heavy. Since I had been adopted by the CYA, there was a very good chance that I was indeed a bastard. The fire in Marge's eyes were driven by lust, not anger, so I figured that I had not upset her too much. A flush had slowly begun to make her way up her face, but the terrycloth robe that she wore made it difficult to detect any other signs of excitement. "Fine, be that way and I won't tell you which daughter you just tasted," I said as I retrieved the water that I had set down. I heard Marge get up. I suspected that she was going to follow me to the bedroom, but I heard her go up the stairs. A small part of me began to dwell upon the possibilities of me and all three Caspar women at the same time -- until I realized I was getting to cocky and should just consider myself blessed that I had such a fantastic girlfriend. The smile that was on my face piqued Traci's interest when I entered the bedroom. As the sexual atmosphere had slowly dissipated, modesty had prevailed, and Traci had slipped into a bathrobe. The bathroom door was open, and I heard Lori in the shower. I handed a bottle of water to my girlfriend, and she asked, "Why are you smiling?" "Because I love you," I told her. I waited until Lori finished her shower before I recounted the encounter with their mother in the kitchen. When I finished my story, Traci was red with embarrassment and Lori was giggling, both at the story and at Traci's reaction to it. Once Lori recovered, she asked Traci, "Can I borrow some underwear?" Traci nodded and pointed to the dresser. "Second drawer down. I think there is a pair of white cotton ones that should stretch to fit you," she answered as she headed to the now vacant bathroom. While Lori was taller than her younger sister was, I did not think there was that much of a difference in their hip sizes. After she put on her sister's cotton panties, she began to put on her cheerleading outfit. "Girl's basketball," she supplied while she paused to inspect her cheerleading briefs. She must have decided that any visible stains would be too difficult to detect because she went ahead and put them on. "Chad, are you coming?" my girlfriend asked from the shower. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "It will be a while before I'm 'coming' again." Lori giggled at my pun, and I moved to give her a kiss on the cheek before going into the bathroom. I was surprised when Lori redirected my mouth to hers and we ended up Frenching each other. I was unsure how much of Traci was still on my lips after the kiss with Marge and my drinking a bottle of water, but the wicked grin Lori gave me after breaking the kiss told me that there was still some there. I began to feel a stirring in my loins at that, but I was certain that my cock was out of commission for the rest of the morning. I quickly entered the bathroom -- lest I try to prove myself wrong -- and joined my girlfriend in a (luckily) chaste shower. It was while I was shampooing Traci's hair that she mentioned her mother. "I think you'd better service Mom," she told me. "Hon, Marge isn't a car. Besides, she's not safely on the pill yet, and there's no time this morning," I said, not adding that it would take a small miracle to resurrect my cock. "You don't have to be on birth control to be eaten out. Anyway, I don't mean now; maybe this weekend when Rose is at Pollyanna's house." Not only did Traci own my cock, but apparently, she owned my mouth as well. I felt somewhat relieved that Traci had considered her mother's state. Marge and I had not had any sexual interaction since the initial encounter a few weeks back. Fearful to broach the subject because I did not want Traci to feel like I was pressuring her, I had remained silent. "Sounds like a plan. You'll be there?" I asked. "Yeah, but I think I'll keep my clothes on in front of my perverted mother this time..." Traci replied, her voice trailing off. I finished shampooing her hair and gently nudged her, signaling her it was time to rinse. She turned around and let the water run through her hair. I gave her chin a quick kiss before using that opportunity to lather myself up with a bar of soap. When Traci finished rinsing her hair, she picked (from the vast assortment) a bottle of conditioner and handed it to me. It was while I was massaging in the conditioner when Traci spoke again. "Do you think I'm a homophobe?" she asked. "No," I replied instantly. "While you might be vocal about your sexual preference, I don't think you're homophobic. Tell me, do you think Rose or Pollyanna is inferior or worthless compared to you?" "Of course not!" Traci replied without a second's thought. "Are you afraid that they are going to pin you down and ravish you?" Traci was silent for a moment before replying, "No." "Then that answers your question. Sure, I think the revelations of two of your best friends being gay, combined with the knowledge that your mom sometimes lusts after her daughters, have made you raise your guard up, but you are far from being a homophobe." I then added, "However, you might want to watch your language." "Huh?" I signaled Traci again and she turned around to rinse her hair. I think she wanted to hear what I was going to say because she stopped me from repeating the conditioner. I traded places with her to rinse off the soap from my body and explained, "You sometimes use words like 'dyke' and 'fag'. While you use it playfully, you might end up hurting people's feelings. Take the word 'nigger'. My friendship with Chuck is good enough that I might be able to use it with him, but it is still a rather ugly word, and just because he might be comfortable with it does not mean that those around him are. I think the only people who can use that word freely are black, just like 'dyke' and 'fag' should be reserved for homo- or bisexuals." Traci nodded meekly, and we finished our shower in silence. As soon as I finished brushing my teeth, I pulled Traci into me and gave her a strong kiss. At first, she protested because she was still brushing her teeth and had a mouthful of toothpaste, but after a short moment, she relaxed and we enjoyed the (peppermint-flavored) kiss. She shot me a grin after we broke the kiss and appeared to be in better spirits. ------- Central City High was kind enough to its students to schedule their major departments end-of-semester finals on different days. I think my nonchalant attitude about the tests seemed to infuriate the girls in the household, who did worry about them. Even my ever-stalwart ally Rose snapped at me on Wednesday, saying that if I was not going to study, then the least I could do was some of the housework. I quickly complied, since it was a rare occasion for Rose to ask for help, and even a rarer one when it came to chores. I was also able to get some much-needed time alone so I could make some phone calls and inquiries on the internet without anyone peering over my shoulder. It came to no surprise to me that, on the weekend following the finals, we ended up just vegging around the house. Saturday evening, Traci and I did end up having a rendezvous with a surprised (then extremely happy) Marge. Traci had remained true to her word and had remained clothed while I preformed cunnilingus on her mother. That did not preclude Traci from taking part in the action, though, as she gave me a blowjob while I ate Marge out. The two of us were equally surprised when Traci removed her mouth from my cock and allowed her mother to swallow my load of semen. The start of the new semester brought a new routine for Traci and me. We had both signed up for zero-period swimming to improve our water polo. One of the advantages of taking that class was that it counted towards P.E. credits. A disadvantage was that it meant having to get up an hour and a half earlier. When Traci and I emerged from our bedroom for that first morning, we could smell the scent of bacon cooking. Entering the kitchen, we found Lori and Rose already there. Rose was at the stove frying bacon, while Lori was setting the table. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Isn't it obvious? Making breakfast, of course," Rose answered. "I mean, why? You two don't need to be up so early" Lori answered this time. "We thought that we would take you two to school." "And then what? What are you going to do after taking us to school?" Lori shrugged, replying, "Study in the library. It opens at seven o'clock." I glanced at Traci, who just shrugged. Whatever plan Rose and Lori had concocted, it was news to Traci. I shook my head and said, "No. You two should not alter your lives just to make Traci's and mine easier." "Chad," Traci said. "Since they went through all this trouble and are ready for school, perhaps we should let Lori drive us today." Seeing the logic in her observation, I nodded. When we sat down to eat, Rose seemed disappointed that all that Traci and I were having was toast and orange juice. She asked why we were not eating more. Traci answered, "Rose, Chad and I are going to be swimming for a good forty-five minutes. The last thing we want is a full stomach." "But you have to eat more than that!" protested Rose. Shrugging, I said, "I'll grab a Sunny D from the school vending machine and bring a power bar." Traci nodded agreement, and Rose just rolled her eyes at the two of us. Since Traci and I had budgeted thirty minutes for the walk to school the previous night, the two of us ended up watching some of the news from TV Japan that the DVR had recorded. Lori and Rose joined us a short while later. A few minutes before the time we had planned to leave, Marge came down the stairs. "What are you two still doing here? Doesn't your swimming start today?" Marge asked after she spotted Traci and me on the couch. I answered, "Yeah, but Lori is going to drive us." Marge nodded and then asked Rose, "Where are you going?" Rose had gotten up when she spotted Marge descending the staircase and had started towards the kitchen before Marge stopped her. "I was going to heat up your breakfast," Rose replied. Shaking her head, Marge said, "Sit back down, I can fend for myself." I spoke up and stated, "Actually, we might as well head on out now." It took less than a minute for everybody to gather their things. Since Lori had parked her car in the garage over the weekend, we had to pass through the kitchen to reach it. Marge was putting the plate of food that Rose had left for her in the microwave when she noticed us. "Are you trying to make me fat, Rose?" Marge asked with a glimmer in her eyes. "Blame those two," Rose replied, pointing back at Traci and me with her thumb. When Rose had refrigerated most of the leftovers, she had ended up making Marge a plate with larger-than-usual portions. Rose and Lori had already entered the garage when Marge said, with a low voice just so that only Traci and I could hear, "Maybe I should stop taking the birth control pills so that I would be eating for two." Traci shot her mom an icy glare, which drew a laugh from Marge. It was still a few weeks until Marge was safely on the pill and that the two of us could enjoy vaginal intercourse without a condom. I gave my girlfriend's hand a reassuring squeeze, but I told myself that I would need to renew my efforts in finding a doctor that would be willing to give a fifteen-year-old a vasectomy. ------- When Traci and I arrived at the pool, there were a few students already there. They were removing the pool cover, so Traci and I set down our bags and assisted them. Afterwards, since we had worn our swimsuits under our clothes, we simply removed our sweat suits and kicked off our sandals. I was the first one to the pool showers and turned them on. After stepping under the water and getting nice and wet, I moved aside. Traci glanced at me before she stepped under the flowing water. She let out a squeal as the freezing water made contact with her skin before she was quickly out of its reach. "Baka!" my girlfriend called me. Instead of lecturing Traci about the principles of mind over matter and that it was simple to ignore discomfort when you had no control over the circumstances, I did a very 'Traci-like' behavior: I stuck my tongue out at her and dove into the safety of the water. It was my hope that Traci would remember my attitude about keeping our personal lives outside of the swimming pool; nevertheless, I made sure to keep a safe distance from her when she dove into the same lane. There were thirteen other students, so all but one ended up having to double up on the lanes. After I had swum a few warm-up laps, I began to gradually increase my pace. Since my main purpose was to improve my water polo skills, I mostly stuck to freestyle and backstroke. I did a few laps of butterfly and breaststroke just to mix things up and work a different set of muscles. It was while I was swimming freestyle, heads-up, that I noticed Coach Turner standing next to the starting block in the lane that I was in. He was holding a clipboard in his left hand and a large mug of what I assumed was coffee in the right. Tucking his clipboard under his right armpit, he gestured to me to stop with his left. When I pulled to a stop, he squatted down to talk with me. "Nice butterfly stroke. Were you swimming all out?" he asked. I shook my head. "Nope. I still have a few more laps until I worked myself up to all out." Coach nodding said, "You sure I can't talk you into joining the swimming team?" I gave Coach Turner a grin. He had been quite persistent in holding me after class to persuade me into joining the swim team. The zero-period swim class had been a compromise that we had reached: he would ease off on his recruiting, and I would be able to improve for water polo. "Sorry, Coach, I've made up my mind," I told him. Coach Turner shook his head sadly saying, "I hope Coach Forest will appreciate that I'll be losing a great swimmer for his golf team." "Golf?!?" Traci had paused at the wall and heard Coach Turner's last comment. She gave me a look of surprise before shrugging her shoulders and resuming her swimming. Coach Turner was well aware of Traci and my relationship, and he gave me an apologetic look for letting the cat out of the bag. I gave him a small smile and resumed my swimming, as well. After all, I had not told Coach that I was keeping my intentions of joining the golf team a secret, so I did not blame him the slightest. I was more mystified by Traci's lack of reaction. Of all the emotions that I had thought that Traci might have shown when she found out about it, indifference was the last that I had expected. I swam for another ten minutes before three short blasts of a whistle pierced the air. Coach Turner was standing between lanes four and five's starting blocks, so everybody swam to gather around there. Once everybody was close enough to hear him, he announced, "Looks like everybody who signed up showed up. For the most part, you all will be left to your own devices. I'll be stopping by to take attendance and occasionally be helping some of you with your technique. Now, since there is no P.E. bell during zero period, I'll be blowing my whistle to tell you when you have ten minutes before the end of period. If I'm not here, then you will have to keep track of the time yourselves. Any questions?" "What about if it rains?" Jason Lopez asked. "What, afraid of getting wet?" Coach Turner replied which drew a couple of chuckles. "It depends on how much. If it is a few sprinkles, then I expect to see you in the pool. If it is coming down hard, then I don't. If there is lightening, then hell no! Since this is considered a school class, attendance is just the same as any other, so just because you cannot be in the pool does not mean that you can sleep in. I'll expect to see you all in my classroom; if anything, you can use that time to study. I'll try to show up early on those days to let you in, but if I'm not there, just flag down a custodian and they will let you in. Any more questions? Okay, we'll end class early today." I pulled myself out of the water and used the pool shower to rinse the chlorine from my body. I was one of the few to do so; most headed for either the locker room to use the hot showers in there or skipped taking a shower altogether. I was drying my hair when I felt two whacks on my right arm. Traci stood glaring at me and pronounced, "The first one was for not warning me that the shower was cold, and the second was for not telling me about you going for the golf team." Before I had a chance to reply, she turned around and stormed off. It was surprising that she had resorted to hitting me. Traci had made a concerted effort to refrain from physically expressing her anger or disapproval. It had been her mom and friends' constant observations on the frequency of Traci hitting me -- be it playful or serious -- that made her change her ways. Truth be told, I strongly suspected it was Marge's comment that I might leave Traci for a girl that did not beat me up that was the biggest factor in Traci's attitude adjustment. During the water polo season, when I had been moved up to Varsity, I had received an athlete's locker in the locker room. It had been three times bigger than the regular students' lockers, but I had had to give it up at the end of the season. As a result, I was without a locker again, so I ended up changing poolside. I had been so hasty in changing that the towel, which I had wrapped around my waist, almost slipped off at the most inappropriate time. My quick reflexes were all that prevented me from flashing the remaining classmates who were still around the pool. I dashed to the girls P.E. locker room entrance and waited for Traci to emerge. Just when I thought that Traci might have ducked out another exit to avoid me, she came out. I took it as a good sign that she allowed me to fall in step beside her. "I'm sorry, Traci. I should have told you about my intention of trying out for the golf team. Anyway, it is not like I'm on it yet. I still have to try out for it." Traci let out a small snort at my last statement. She and I both knew that the chances of making the team were almost certain. Unlike cheerleading and football, anybody who tried out for any other high school sport almost automatically made the team. Whether they were allowed to compete in events or not had more to deal with their skills and effort. "Just tell me one thing; did you come to your decision before or after promising me that you would try out for a spring sport?" That was a loaded question. If I said before, then she would think that I tricked her into joining the cheerleading squad, knowing that she would not have a chance to cheer for me. If I said after, then she would think that I picked golf to avoid her. Knowing that truth, even if painful, was far easier to keep track of than some lie, I said, "Before." "When?" I knew that Traci was in no mood for my observation that would make it two things that I would be telling her. "When you all moved in with me, I saw your dad's golf clubs and thought that I should try out for the team." That was more of a half-truth. While John Caspar's golf clubs had given me the inspiration to try out for golf, it was the idea that golf was one of the few sports where you could also enjoy smoking while doing it that was the driving factor in my decision to try out for the golf team. I was not so foolish as to think that I would be able to smoke while practicing with the golf team, but I had thought I might be able to sneak in a cancer stick or two while practicing on the weekends. Even though I was currently out of cigarettes, I knew better than to voice that reason to my girlfriend. We made the rest of the trek to the school office building in silence. We had to pick up our new semester schedules and were about to separate to stand in different lines when we spotted Rose and Lori waving at us. When we joined them, they handed us our schedules. "I was able to talk the secretary into giving me your schedule. At first, she wasn't going to, but I told her I was your girlfriend," Rose informed me when she handed mine to me. Rose seemed disappointed that she did not get a rise out of Traci. I figured that Traci was still upset at me and did not want to change the focus of her emotions; hence, she let her friend's comment slide. Traci glanced over the schedule her sister had handed her before trading it with me. Traci had continued with band as it shifted from Marching to Orchestral, whereas I ended up having to drop that class to take Dance II, which was only offered during first, second, or third periods. Traci's reaction to my schedule was comical. She had a slight pout on her face when she took it from me, but her eyes widened in surprise when she came across sixth period. She glanced at me, but she quickly turned back to the schedule, seemingly afraid that she had misread it. Finally, she recovered enough to ask, "You're taking Health?!" I waited until she looked up from the schedule before I smiled and nodded. A semester of Health was required for graduation and it was typically taken during the freshman year. I had been informed that I had not needed to take the class since I had aced that section of the school entrance exam. Miss Simms, my councilor, had called me into her office after I had submitted my choices for my class schedule to reiterate that point. She took my explanation that I had my reasons in stride, and I strongly suspected that she knew my real purpose in picking that class. It seemed that the school staff was just as prone to gossip as the students were. Traci momentarily forgot that she was upset at me and threw her arms around me in a hug. When we broke our embrace, I noticed her eyes had started to well up. "I didn't think we were going to have any classes together," she said, sniffling. "Besides swimming," she then added. A tear began to streak down her cheek, and I quickly kissed it away. "I wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked," I told her. Traci reached up and wiped any remaining tears away before replying, "Yeah, Jerk. But don't think this means that you'll go unpunished for picking golf." From the smile on her face, I considered myself lucky that Traci was no longer holding a grudge against me for the cold shower incident. The bell signaling the end of zero-period rang, which told us we had eight minutes before first period started. Since my English class was near Traci's locker, the two of us said goodbye to Lori and Rose, and I escorted my girlfriend to her locker. We made a quick detour to my locker so I could stash some of my things in there, and when I left Traci at her locker, it was after a brief make-out session. I knew I was far from being out of the woods, but I had begun the ever-long journey. ------- I soon discovered the disadvantages of taking Dance II. Not only was it clear across campus, but if I built up a good sweat, it meant taking a shower during the break between second and third periods. Unlike my girlfriend, taking a ten-minute shower was within the realm of possibility, but I knew a better option was to bring extra deodorant and spend the time with Traci, instead. Luckily, for the first day of class, we mostly just went over the goals of the class before going over our warm-up routine. We did not even have to change out of our street clothes, so as soon as Ms. McCann had released us from class, I headed to the quad like a bat out of hell. The band room was located close to the quad, so even with my fast pace, I found Traci waiting for me. She smiled when she spotted me walking towards her, and I felt the effort I made to get there quickly was well worth it. When I sat down on the top of the table with my feet on the bench, Traci moved to sit on the table between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her silently while she continued the conversation she was having with Rose. Pollyanna grinned at me and mimicked the position that my girlfriend and I were in (although while standing) by moving behind the redhead and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist. "I don't have anybody to hold or to hold me," observed Michelle with a pout. Traci gestured to the spot on the bench between her feet, and Michelle quickly moved to where she had indicated. Once Michelle was seated, Traci loosely wrapped her arms her friend's (and secret admirer's) neck, and all three of us stayed pretty much in that position until the end of break. When the bell rang and everybody had dislodged themselves from each other, Traci pulled me down for a quick kiss. "Thanks," she told me, before heading off with Rose, Pollyanna, and Michelle. I was still in the thick portion of the woods, but it appeared that light was not too far ahead. ------- "I still can't believe I did so well on the midterm," Lori said for the third time. I gave her a smile and nodded. Mrs. Hart had handed back the results to the Math test we had taken the previous week. I had scored a ninety-six, whereas Lori had received a ninety-seven. Unlike me, Lori had attempted to answer all of the questions correctly and had been rewarded for her efforts. "I guess we know what to do the night before a big test in the future," I joked, allowing my hand to brush up against hers as we walked towards the quad. Lori gave me an equally warm smile and then she allowed her hand to brush up against mine. Ever since her birthday, I had begun covertly showing my affections towards her. A wink here, a brush there -- just little things that I could do at school to show how much she meant to me without raising suspicions from our classmates. Lori had quickly caught on and seemed to appreciate my efforts. Spotting the payphone near the locker rooms not in use, I told Lori, "Oh, I need to make a few phone calls. If I don't see you after sixth, then I'll see you tonight." Lori nodded. I hurried over to the phone before anyone else got to it first. It turned out that I had only needed to make one phone call; the person that I was trying to get ahold of was at the first number I tried. As much as I had wanted to have a longer conversation, I kept it relativity short so that I could spend as much as the lunch period with Traci. I knew that any progress out of the woods with Traci would be pushed back if I did not get to the quad in a timely fashion. If Traci noticed that I was later than usual, she did not let on. The conversation at lunch was the typical gossip we would share, along with observations of any new classes or classmates we had. Since my history class was near my locker, I had enough time to walk Traci to her class first before heading to mine. A pleasant surprise awaited me when I entered health class in sixth period. Not only was Traci inside waiting for me, but Michelle was sitting beside her. I sat down in the seat on the other side of Traci, handing the backpack that she had used to save the seat back to her, and we talked quietly until the start of class. When the warning bell rang, an attractive woman of Arabic descent strode into the classroom. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties and relativity new to teaching. She wrote her name on the white board, and when the bell marking the start of class rang, she tapped her podium to get the class's attention. "Welcome to Health," she said as soon as the room had quieted down. "My name is Salimah Frisk, and I shall be your instructor for the semester. You may either call me 'Salimah' or 'Mrs. Frisk', but anybody calling me 'Frisky' will be answered with a referral." A few students chuckled at Mrs. Frisk's apparent joke. She had a smile on her face, but the look in her eyes made everyone hesitant to test her warning, least they receive the threatened referral to the office. After handing out the textbooks and syllabi, she gave a brief introduction of herself before having every student stand and do the same. It was fortunate for me that she started on the left side of the classroom and worked the way right because Traci went before me. During Traci's monologue, she mentioned that I was her boyfriend, something that I would most likely have forgotten if I had gone first (and offsetting any progress out of the woods I had made). When it became my turn to speak, I made sure that one of the first things I mentioned was the wonderful girlfriend that I had. After class, I walked Traci to her locker before escorting her to the girls' locker room. Lori and Rose were waiting at the looker room entrance, and I gave my girlfriend a quick kiss. Rose and I said goodbye to the Caspar girls, and the two of us headed back to our lockers to retrieve some additional stuff before heading home. One of the many drawbacks of my lack of cigarettes was that it had limited the chances for Rose and me to converse privately. Often, when I had gone into the backyard to have a smoke, Rose would join me, and the two of us would chat. We used the walk home to make up for the lost time and discussed an array of topics. It was half past three when the two of us got home. I resumed the news program that I had been watching earlier in the morning, while Rose went upstairs to her room to drop off her stuff. When she came back downstairs, she joined me on the couch to watch some television before beginning her housework. It was exactly three forty-five when the doorbell rang; before I had a chance to respond, Rose jumped up and went to answer the door. It appeared that my guest had arrived. ------- Chapter 30 A Rose by any other name would taste as sweet. - Bill S. While Rose might have beaten me to answering the door, I still stood up and headed to the foyer to greet my guest. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought this was Chad's house," I heard the familiar voice say. "Yeah, it is. Come in, come in," a surprised Rose replied. As I entered the foyer, I said, "Thanks for coming by on such short notice, Erin." Erin gave me a bemused smile as Rose and I escorted her into the living room. "You've got a cool pad," Erin commented. I shrugged and showed Erin to the couch. I sat down in a chair, and after Erin politely declined anything to drink from Rose, the redhead gave me an inquisitive look. I tilted my head towards the couch, and Rose joined Erin. "You live here, too?" Erin asked Rose. Nodding, Rose grinned and said, "I'm the maid." I just rolled my eyes at Rose's response. Despite my repeated protests, she considered herself my maid first and foremost. Erin matched her grin and said, "Mmm. I wouldn't mind seeing you wearing a low-cut French maid outfit." Rose let out a chuckle and said, "Only on the weekends do I wear that. Plus, you can only look, but not touch; otherwise, my girlfriend will get jealous." "Ah. Was she the pretty girl that was sitting on the other side of you at the basketball game?" When Rose nodded, Erin then asked, "Cool. You two monogamous?" "So far, but we have somebody in mind if we ever want to try a ménage à trois." Rose then shifted her gaze from Erin and focused on me. The wink I received from the redhead made me really wonder if she was serious or was just playing around. My reaction caused Erin to chuckle. She then turned her attention back to Rose, "I'm sorry, I don't usually flirt with people when I don't know their name. I remember it was after a flower. Was it Violet?" "Rose!" the redhead vehemently exclaimed. Erin recoiled, but Rose was quick to apologize. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to shout. It's just that is my mom's name..." As Rose voice trailed off, I filled in our confused guest. "We prefer not to mention the individual who gave birth to Rose in this house," I stated with pointed gravity. Erin nodded in understanding. "I doubt I'll ever forget your name again, Rose," Erin said, earning a weak smile from her. Saving my friend from any further embarrassment, I stood and said, "Perhaps I had better show you the reason why I invited you over." Erin agreed and stood up. I caught the look Rose gave me and nodded my head slightly, so she stood up as well. Erin smiled and asked me, "You sure Rose isn't one of your Subs? She seems to respond well to your nonverbal commands." "Nope, just a well-trained maid," answered Rose with a smile. I did not know if Erin's comment was so intended, but it seemed to lighten Rose's mood. As I lead the two young women towards the closet underneath the staircase, the sound of the garage door being opened could be heard. "Mrs. Caspar's home," observed Rose. "Quick, should I know her name? Did I meet her at the basketball game?" Erin asked Rose. Rose giggled and replied, "No, you didn't meet her. She's Lori and Traci's mother." Erin arched an eyebrow at me and asked, "How many women do you have living here, Chad?" "Just Rose, Traci, Lori, and Marge." "Got room for one more?" Erin joked. It was my turn to raise my eyebrow. Erin chuckled and replied, "Remember when I told you I ended a long-term relationship? What I failed to mention was that the two of us are still living together, and let's just say that the past few months have not been too pleasant." Nodding, I asked, "Would you like to meet Marge?" "Sure," Erin replied. "That wouldn't be Marge spelled with a small 'M', would it?" she asked with a grin as we entered the kitchen. When Marge came in, she said hello to Rose and me. Spotting Erin, Marge greeted the black-haired woman with a warm grin. "You must be Erin," Marge said, holding out her hand. "It is a pleasure to finely meet you." Erin blinked and quickly moved to shake the offered hand. "I guess my reputation precedes me," Erin joked Rose was the only one in the room who did not notice Marge stroking her thumb on Erin's hand before releasing the handshake. With as much flirting as Erin had been receiving from my friends, I was beginning to worry that she might think that we were all a bunch of sex-crazed maniacs. "No, you just match Chad and my daughter's description of you. That is, unless Chad brought home yet another lovely girl." I rolled my eyes at the look that Marge gave me. "We were going downstairs. Care to join us?" I asked. I was in for another surprise when Marge nodded her head. She had declined such invitations in the past. I led the three ladies to the closet, but Rose wanted to be the one to open the hidden door. I turned on the lights and waited until all three had descended before starting the tour. "Welcome to the Dungeon. I know, I know. It is a rather weak name, but it will have to do for now." I saw a look of disappointment in Erin's face, so I quickly added, "Trust me, there is a lot more to this room than you initially see." That seemed to pique Erin's interest, so I continued. "This area here," I said, sweeping my arm to indicate the twenty-four by eighteen foot room, "is the Entry Dungeon. Its main function is as a softcore area." Erin had spotted something on the table that was in the northwest corner and had moved to inspect it. She picked up one of six identical dildos and said, "Nice, but I'm pretty sure we don't sell this model. You buy it from the internet?" Marge's eyes widened in recognition, but it was Rose who answered her with a grin, "No, that there is one of a kind." Erin was puzzled at first, since all six looked the same, but then she caught on. "Ah, a do-it-yourself kit. Cool." I noticed her glancing at my crotch before asking, "Kinda cocky, ain't ya? But why so many?" I knew my first impression of Erin had been correct: she was a delightful person. Her pun just reinforced my opinion of her. Since Rose seemed so eager to reveal the entrance, I made eye contact with her and gestured to the west wall. The redhead nodded and went to a bullwhip that was hanging in just about the center. Not removing it from its holder, Rose grabbed the handle and twisted. After it had rotated ninety degrees, she pulled, revealing a secret door. "Cool beans," Erin said and the three of us went to join Rose in the newly discovered room. Rose had been kind enough to turn on the lights when she entered and I explained, "This here is the prop room. As you can see, the walls are lined with clothes racks for different outfits. I also plan to keep the fucking machines in here, but so far I just have a Sybian and an Intruder." "And if you're going to use a machine, might as well use something that the recipient is familiar with," Erin said with a chuckle. She grew a little serious when she said, "Those things can be expensive." I smiled and said, "Slave is well worth it, but you are right, they do cost a pretty penny. If I had access to a machine shop, I'm sure I could build most of them myself, but right now I'm having to rely on the internet. You know of any suppliers?" Erin thought for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I think I might be able to get ahold of some cheaper than what you'll find online." "Coolio. Well, since there are no more secret doors in this room, let's go back to the Entry Dungeon." Actually, the secret door to the panic room was behind a mirror on the west wall, but only I (and the government) knew about that. When we re-entered the softcore room, Rose headed to the north wall, but I cleared my throat to get her attention. She then diverted her route and went to the east wall. She took a red, studded collar off a hook and then tilted the hook up. Pulling on it caused a section of the wall to swing inward. Once again, Rose entered the room and turned on the lights for us. "This is the Boudoir," I explained once we were all in the room. "I plan on having a king-sized bed in the south-east corner and a dressing counter along the wall to the bathroom." Marge and Erin went over to see the bathroom, and when they returned, Marge asked, "You do the plumbing yourself?" I shook my head. "Nope, the bathroom was already down here. From what I can tell, the previous owners had set up a spare bedroom down here or something. Perhaps it was used as an emergency shelter. All I did was to change the regular doors into concealed ones. Anyhow, this area is mainly for role-playing and such." "Maybe I could move in down here," joked Erin. "Maybe after I get to know you better," I replied with a smile. Actually, I had learned quite a bit about Erin over the past week. She was the youngest daughter of Eric and Pam Vroom of Windsor, California. While it appeared that the Vrooms were not Baptist, Erin had attended the Windsor Christian Academy, the only private school in Windsor. That school only went up to the Eighth grade, so she then transferred to a nonsectarian private high school in Santa Rosa. Erin had been active in youth and school sports up until her sophomore year of high school, at which point she stopped. It was also during the middle of her sophomore year that she was transferred from the private school to the public one in Windsor. A week after she graduated from high school, she moved down to San Luis Obispo and lived in a motel room for a month until she found an apartment. During that summer, she worked at three part-time jobs, but reduced it down to one, the Diamond Adult Bookstore, when she attended Cuesta Community College in the fall. She attended Cuesta for one-and-a-half years before transferring into the Engineering Department at Cal Poly last year. Erin also appeared to be self-reliant. Unlike her siblings, it appeared that she was paying for her own school and housing. Her parents were rather affluent: her mother being a professor at U.C. Berkeley, and her father owning a small business. It also appeared that there was no contact between Erin and the rest of her family. She had been living alone up until ten months ago, when Giolla Bond, nineteen, moved in with her. Erin's landlord had informed me that she always paid the rent on time and that she was a wonderful tenant. Erin's credit rating was also unblemished. I had found out that much about Erin via the internet and making numerous phone calls. The background check was nowhere as thorough as one done by the government, but I felt somewhat comfortable in letting Erin see part of how we lived. Also, even in the brief contact I had with her, it felt like she was a good and decent person. However, I would need to observe and find out more information about her before I would even consider letting her join our household. "Chad? You okay?" Rose asked. I smiled and covered up my moment of silence by saying, "Sorry, just thinking about the possibilities of Slave having a Mistress living down here." Erin grinned and asked, "I've been meaning to ask you, how old is Slave?" Marge answered, "She just turned eighteen." I shook my head and corrected her, "Slave is sixteen days old." "Wow, so she had only been a slave for nine days when I met her! But you didn't just do all this work in the past few weeks." Rose left the Boudoir, and as we followed her out, I explained, "I started acquiring the necessary equipment back in October when I discovered Lori's desirers of being dominated. It was only a few weeks ago that I was finally allowed to have her become my slave." "Hey, don't look at me," Marge said with a chuckle, holding up her hands when Erin arched her eyebrows at her. "He had to get the permission from my other daughter." Erin asked her, "And you're cool with having your daughter's boyfriend be your other daughter's master?" Erin drew out her words slowly, seeming to go over the situation in her mind before speaking. Shrugging, Marge explained, "I don't know if I would use the word 'cool', but I think I know Chad well enough to know that his major concerns are both my daughters' well-being and happiness. Besides, I do kinda know a little bit about the BDSM scene, even though nowhere as much as you two seem to know." Rose waited until Marge finished speaking before clearing her throat. When we turned our attention back towards her, she removed the adjustable spreader bar that was hanging horizontally off of two hooks on the northern wall. She carefully set it down before grabbing both hooks and rotating them three-hundred-sixty degrees, the one on the right clockwise and the one on the left counter. An audible click was heard, and Rose pushed forward, revealing the next room. "Welcome to the Inner Sanctum. As you can see by the equipment, this is geared towards the more hardcore aspect of BDSM." "Nice cage," Erin commented as she ran her hands along the solid steel puppy cage. "Thanks. I wanted to get a couple of bigger ones, but Rose and I had a hard enough time getting that sucker down here." "The cost in shipping must have been a bitch," observed Erin. "Yeah, but I don't mind if I'm getting top-of-the-line material. You think you can hook me up with the same quality through work?" I asked. "Well, I think I might be able to hook you up to a couple of people who make dungeon furniture locally. We sell a few of their items at the store and take a small commission, but we also give out their information to customers who want to deal with them directly. Though, you know, you might want to take a road trip up North. 'Frisco would more likely have the top-of-the-line quality you're looking for." I smiled and asked, "Yeah, but will they let a minor into their stores?" "Shit, I forgot, you're under eighteen. I mean, I knew that, but your aura makes you seem older. How in the hell did you get into the scene?" "I'll tell you if you tell me," I said. However, I did not give her a chance to reply, and promptly said, "I had a neighbor teach me the ropes." Smiling, she nodded, then noticed the bare cement floor that took up a quarter of the room. "Who's into watersports? You or your slave?" "Neither. I designed the room before knowing if she was into it or not. I figured I can use that area for some of the lighter water bondage and whatnot." Nodding, Erin said, "I had a girlfriend who would insist that I urinate on her at the end of every scene. Didn't matter that I found it repulsive, she would just keep begging me to. In the end, she broke up with me. I guessed I pissed her off." Rose, Marge, and I all chuckled at Erin's story. As Rose lead us to the last set of secret doors in the Dungeon, Erin asked, "What are those things?" "Fuel cells and hot water tanks," I answered, "They take natural gas and convert it to electricity. A byproduct is hot water." "Ah, that explains why this room feels warmer than the rest. Okay, Daisy, show us the next room," Erin said to the eager redhead. Marge got a confused look on her face, but Rose grinned at Erin. Rose grabbed ahold of an unlit torch that was mounted on the north wall and did not remove it from its holder as she pulled down. The double set of doors that were hidden in the east wall popped open, revealing the last room. "This here is the Deep Chancel. It is reserved for heavy BDSM and water bondage. I think it will be at least a year before Slave works her way to this level." Marge let out an audible gasp when she examined some of the tools that were laid out on one of the tables. Picking up a branding iron, she asked disbelievingly, "You really think she'll get up to this?" I shook my head, "Goddess, I hope not! Her contract states that there will be no lasting marks. However, I do allow her to negotiate changes." Erin picked up a piercing needle and forceps. "Hey, Lily, let me see one of your tits." Rose lifted up her tee shirt and flashed all three of us. It lasted less than a second, but we did see that she was wearing a black bra. She then stuck her tongue out Erin -- who, in turn, started to advance with the forceps raised, trying to trap the protruding organ. Rose let out a small squeal and quickly brought her tongue back into the safe haven of her mouth. "Anyway, that concludes the tour of the Dungeon. You want to head back upstairs and we can discuss what additional stuff I need?" Erin nodded, and she, Marge, and I headed upstairs while Rose took care of resetting all the secret doors and shutting off the lights. ------- Erin and I spent close to an hour in the breakfast nook going over the additional material that I would need to make the Dungeon complete. She wisely suggested that I could start Slave off in the Entry Dungeon while the other rooms were still being worked on. We were just wrapping up when Rose came into the kitchen and asked Erin if she was staying for dinner. "Depends, Iris, you going to be serving some tender and juicy tuna?" Erin asked. "No, fried chick... Jeez, do you ever quit? Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, onion rings, and rolls." Erin glanced at her watch and thought about it. She glanced at her watch again, and I could see that she was seriously contemplating the offer. I had a good idea why she was hesitant, and I turned out to be correct when she declined. "I would love to, but I really should be going. I have a class tonight and skipped last week's to attend a basketball game; I don't think I can afford to miss two in a row. Thank you for the offer, though." Rose said, "Oh, okay. But do you think you could stay for another five to ten minutes? Lori and Traci should be home shortly." Erin glanced at her watch once more before nodding. "Five minutes, max," she told the redhead. Rose nodded and quickly went over to the phone to call Traci to see if she and Lori could get home any faster. I excused myself and went to the bedroom to retrieve an envelope that I had prepared for Erin. When I returned, I handed it to Erin and explained, "That should get you started. When you need more, just let me know." Erin peeked inside the envelope and her eyes bugged out. She quickly ruffled through the money before saying, "Shit. You trust me with this much cash?" "Sure. You know as well as I that trust is one of the most important elements of BDSM. So don't worry about keeping receipts; I have a pretty good idea of what stuff costs. Just remember, I like quality over quantity." Erin seemed reluctant to be entrusted with as much money as I was giving her. Rose, who had given up on trying to reach my girlfriend, saw Erin's quandary and advised, "Just take it. He has too much money as it is and he insists on wasting it, like paying someone to do stuff that they should be doing for free." It dawned on me that Rose felt that, by having a third party present when she brought up a subject, she then had a shot at a different outcome than when she had brought it up in the past, alone. I decided that two could play at that game. "Fine. When the 'someone' no longer insists on doing all of the stuff and stops referring themselves as 'my maid', then I can foresee me not paying them." Rose and I locked in an intense stare, neither one of us backing down. It was when Erin cleared her throat that we shifted our attention away from each other. Erin gave a weak smile and said, "I really do need to be going." I quickly apologized to Erin. "I'm sorry about that. It is an ongoing battle the two of us have been having. One of the drawbacks of having such a stubborn friend." Rose nodded and added, "Or an equally pig-headed boss." Erin chuckled, especially since Rose and I had instantly dropped our hostilities towards each other. Rose and I walked Erin to the door. When Marge saw Erin was leaving, she got up from watching the plasma from the sofa to bid Erin goodbye. Erin arched an eyebrow at me when Marge gave the young woman a warm hug. After Erin had left, Rose pondered, "Do you think her hair's natural?" "I wouldn't mind seeing if the carpet matched the drapes." "MRS. CASPAR!" Rose practically shouted in disbelief. Marge gave the surprised girl a big grin and went back into the living room to continue watching television. Rose stood motionless for a full five seconds, still not believing the comment Marge had made. I just shrugged and went into the kitchen to help with dinner. After all, I already knew that black was Erin's natural hair color. It stated so on her birth certificate. ------- Chapter 31 I wasn't kissing her, I was whispering in her mouth.- C. Marx When Traci and I entered the kitchen on the first day of February, we did not find Lori and Rose there as we had the day before. Traci went to the refrigerator to grab the carton of juice while I retrieved a couple of glasses. When I turned around, I discovered Traci holding two lunch sacks with our names on them. "Rose must have made them for us after we went to bed last night," guessed Traci. "Man, I was looking forward to eating at the salad bar," I said with a pout. Grinning, Traci called me a liar. The salad bar at school was quite good, but food prepared by somebody who cares about you tastes much better. Then again, was it wise to eat the food of somebody who you had had an argument with, especially a fiery redhead? I was certain that Rose would never poison me; nevertheless, I planned to swap sacks with Traci at lunchtime. After we drank our juice, I washed the glasses while Traci dried and put them away. Grabbing a couple of power bars for later, I stowed them in my backpack. After making sure we had everything, we left the house. The door had barely closed when I took ahold of Traci's hand. She glanced at me and smiled as we began our walk to school. We were just passing her old front yard when she said something. "So, are you going to be inviting any more women over this afternoon?" Traci had a small smile on her face, so I did not think she was jealous. She had been upset the day before when she got home and found out that Erin had been there, but it was because she had missed seeing her. Traci did find it a little odd that I had not told her about it beforehand, but I explained that it had all been rather last minute. I did not think she believed me, though, since she knew how much I liked to plan things out beforehand. "No. I thought I'd study in the school library until it closed and then just hang around until the basketball game started. You didn't expect me to miss my girlfriend's cheerleading debut, did you?" Traci's smile turned into a grin at my words. "You'll be coming to all of the games I'm cheering at?" she asked. "All of the home ones -- at least until I start golf." I was semi-reluctant about using the four-letter G-word, but the previous evening's adventure in our bedroom gave me confidence. I had left the woods and spent a great deal of time in Traci's (clean-shaven) bush. While it was not uncharted territory, my tongue made sure to explore every nook and cranny of her succulent valley. Traci nodded, but the grin slowly left her face as she asked, "What about Rose?" Always having trouble of keeping track of my girlfriend's shifts in conversation, I needed clarification. "What about her?" "Lori's going to be busy helping out the Varsity squad, and if you're staying at the school, that means she'll have to walk home alone." "Oh, that. Rose was going to stay and watch your game, too. Anyway, we live in a safe neighborhood. Rose would be safe walking alone," I explained. Our conversation then shifted toward our opinions of Mrs. Frisk and Health class. The rest of the trip to school was spent talking, with the occasional lapse into silence. Not once, until we reached the pool, did we release our hands. ------- Traci and her squad performed well. While they did not attempt anything too difficult, they executed their routines without any major mishaps. Lori's assistance with the Varsity squad was only needed up to the start of the Varsity game, so we left before the first period was over. The Lady Eagles scored seven times before the Righetti Warrior's made their first basket. But -- exciting as the girl's basketball game was -- hunger had won out. The rest of the week proceded much the same way. Thursday was an away game, so Lori was able to drive Rose and me home that day. On Saturday, there was a party for all of the cheerleaders (Fall/Spring, Junior Varsity/Varsity) held at the Shore Cliffs, a posh hotel located along the beach. The members of the squads were allowed to bring a guest, but I declined Traci's invitation. She was upset, at first, until I told her why I was going to be busy on that day. After I finished giving her the explanation, she wanted to skip the party, as well. I was able to convince her that part of cheerleading was politics, and that if she wanted to continue cheerleading in the future, she would need to attend. Since the cheerleader party was at five in the evening, Lori and Traci were able to partake in our regular Saturday afternoon lunch gathering. Marge and Jean were out by the pool catching some rays, since a winter storm was forecast to arrive in the next few days. Pollyanna was in the kitchen helping Rose prepare lunch, while Lori, Michelle, Traci and I were in the living room watching 'Party Girl' on DVD when the doorbell rang. Michelle and Lori seemed surprised, since everybody was already here, but Traci (possessing knowledge that the other girls did not have) leapt to her feet and dashed to answer the door. "Erin!" my jubilant girlfriend nearly shouted once she opened the door. Lori froze when she heard her sister mention the girl's name, and a look of panic crept into her eyes when Traci led our visitor into the living room. I was slightly taken aback when my eyes fell upon Erin. Gone was the white foundation and black makeup that she had been wearing during our previous encounters. Instead, it seemed that she was wearing no makeup at all except for a slight trace of orange lipstick. She was wearing a yellow, floral-print, strapless Shoshanna sundress and a somewhat-matching yellow Prada handbag. What I found amusing, despite the expensive dress and bag, was that she had chosen to wear surplus combat boots to offset her ensemble. I had gotten up to greet her, but when I drew close, she opened her arms, so I gave her a brief hug. After our brief embrace, I made the introductions. "I believe you met everybody at the basketball game, but since you're so good with names, I'll go ahead and do it again. Michelle, Lori, and Traci," I said, pointing to each girl as I said their name. Erin cried out, "Saffron!" when the two girls from the kitchen came into the room to investigate the cause of all of the commotion. Rose chuckled and gave Erin a warm smile. "Next to her is Pollyanna." "Saffron's GIRLFRIEND," Pollyanna said, emphasizing the last word. She then wrapped her arm around Rose's hip and stuck out her tongue. "Yeah, try doing that when she is holding a needle and forceps, then see what happens," Rose told Pollyanna. When Pollyanna withdrew her tongue, she had a smile on her face; I do not think she held any malice towards Erin. "Marge and Jean are outside," I said, after everybody had finished laughing at Rose's joke. Erin frowned slightly and asked, "I didn't meet Jean, did I?" I shook my head and was about to explain when Michelle said, "She's my mom. I'll go tell them you're here." She then stood up and went into the backyard to inform the two ladies. When she returned, she was slightly red as she informed us, "I told them we had a guest, and that they might want to put on their tops when they come inside." Erin arched an eyebrow and turned to my girlfriend. "You want to give me a tour of the backyard?" Traci giggled and wrapped her arm in the taller one's when it was offered to her. They started to walk towards the sliding glass door to the backyard when Marge and Jean came in. Even with the tops on, the two-piece bathing suits they wore were substantially revealing, and hardly left any room to the imagination. Marge's face lit up when she saw Erin, and she gave the girl a warm hug after her daughter had released her arm from Erin's. After Erin introduced herself to Jean, Marge commented, "That is a lovely dress you have on." "It's three years old, but it still fits. I guess I'm kinda lucky these didn't grow out," Erin replied, shrugging and cupping her petite breasts. As I showed Erin to the sofa, we paused next to the chair that Lori was sitting in. She had not uttered a sound since Erin's arrival, and the tall black-haired girl seemed to pick up on that fact. "Now, that's not the way to greet an old friend, is it?" Erin asked with a grin. Lori smiled meekly at the reference of how Erin had referred herself in front of her friends and stood up. After they exchanged a brief hug, Lori started to pull away, but Erin stopped her. Erin then reached up, ran her finger under the necklace that was exposed on Lori's neck and slowly withdrew the pendant that had been hanging underneath her shirt. After letting it fall back down, this time on the outside, Erin released her hold, smiled, and said, "I'm happy you liked my gift." Lori reached up and absently rubbed her thumb over the BDSM symbol. She smiled at Erin and softly said, "Thank you," before sitting down. Erin sat at the end of the couch closest to the chair that Lori was in. I sat down next to Erin, and Traci sat on the other side of me. Michelle took the position at the other end, and her mother sat down in the other chair. Marge ended up standing behind Lori's chair and seemed to take great delight in leaning forward to give Erin an even more revealing view of her breasts. "When's lunch going to be ready?" I asked, turning my head towards Rose and Pollyanna. The two girls had their heads close together and had been whispering conspiringly before I interrupted them with my question. They both jumped slightly and looked at me before glancing back at one another. "Five minutes?" Rose announced, slightly unsure, but after receiving a nod from Pollyanna, Rose repeated herself more confidently. Pollyanna then headed back into the kitchen, whereas Rose went upstairs, instead. "So, Erin, what brings you over today?" Marge asked. "Chad told me, if I swung by, that I could have lunch, and if I was lucky, see a couple of sexy topless women," Erin answered with a grin, looking from Marge to Jean. When Erin's gaze swept upon Jean, I noticed the latter arching her back slightly, seeming to jut her breasts out further. Jean and Marge shared a look before they both reached back and began undoing their tops. "MOM!" both Michelle and Traci shouted almost simultaneously. Everyone but the women's daughters began laughing. Lori, who had not seen what her mother had done, had a very good idea from Jean's actions. All three girls grew slightly red with embarrassment from their mothers' behavior. After the laughter had died down, I explained, "Erin brought over some stuff that she acquired for me, and she's also going to be taking me around to meet a few craftsmen." The red that had crept into Lori's face because of the antics of her mother instantly vanished, the blood draining so fast, it was as if somebody had tossed a white sheet over her. I was not the only one that noticed, because Erin reached out and placed her left hand on Lori's right knee. "Hey, relax now. You're like a tee-pee and a wigwam." Blinking in surprise, Lori asked, "What?" "You're 'two tents'," she replied, earning a smile from Lori. "You know, I'm feeling kinda bad that the first time I met 'you' was at the basketball game, and that I introduced myself to your friends as being an old friend. Are you free tomorrow?" "Yes, why?" Lori asked puzzled. "I thought we maybe could spend some time together. I would really like to get to know you, Lori." The sincerity in Erin's voice was strong, and Lori seemed to appreciate it. "I think I'd like that," Lori said after a moment's pause. "Awesome. How about some shopping? I'm afraid it will have to be kinda early, since I have to be at work by three." Lori's face lit up and she nodded, saying, "I actually do need to do some shopping." She hesitated for a second before asking timidly, "Would you mind if I brought a friend along?" Erin grinned. "Why? Afraid I'll try to seduce you if you're alone?" Lori shook her head strongly, explaining, "It's my friend, Vicky. She knows about Slave, and I think she worries about me. I thought if she met you, then she might be put more at ease." From my vantage point, I could not see Erin's eyes, but her head shifted slightly towards Jean when Lori mentioned Slave's name. I suspected Erin was just checking her reaction, since she was unaware of who knew about Lori's other persona. Still, Erin assured Lori that it was fine. They were just starting to make plans when Erin stopped and let out a loud 'wolf-whistle'. I followed Erin's gaze and watched as Rose descended the staircase in her most revealing maid outfit. While it did cover more than what Marge and Jean were wearing, it was not by much. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, cursing the idiot who had bought her the outfits. The costumes seemed to only reinforce the idea that Rose was a servant and not a member of the household. Traci caught my reaction and leaned close to me. "You know, Chad, her mom wouldn't allow her to wear skirts unless they went to her ankles, and even then, she could only wear them to church and nowhere else," my girlfriend whispered to me. Actually, I had not known that about Rose, but it explained the excitement and large quantities of skirts she had bought when we had to buy her wardrobe. The idea that Rose was more likely just expressing ('exposing', more like it) herself instead of trying to fill a role added a little comfort. Rose was almost at the bottom of the staircase when Pollyanna stepped out to announce lunch was ready. She gave her redheaded girlfriend a grin and an apparent nod of approval when she saw the outfit she was wearing. While we usually ate in the breakfast nook, the girls had set up lunch in the dining room. When Erin entered the room and saw the spread, she let out an appreciative whistle. "Wow, I hope you didn't go through all this just because I came over," Erin stated as she sat down Rose shot me an icy glare and said, "Actually, I was not informed that you were coming over for lunch." "Sorry, I guess it slipped my mind," I told Rose with a meek smile. "Who's the main character of Gokusen?" Rose asked me. "Yamaguchi Kumiko," I replied, and as soon as the name left my mouth, I knew I had walked into her trap. "'Slipped my mind', my ass," Rose said disgustedly. Rose was standing next to Erin during our little exchange, and at that, Erin reached out and lifted the skirt. "And a cute little one it is, I must say." Rose lightly batted Erin's hand away, chiding her. "Hey, remember what I said! You can look, but don't touch." "Yeah," Pollyanna said with a grin. "Keep your paws off my bitch." "BITCH!?!" Rose glared at her girlfriend before turning back to Erin, lifting the hem of her skirt and saying, "Forget what I said! Touch all you want." Erin started to reach up, but Rose danced away, giggling. Everybody chuckled at the lighthearted exchange, and when Rose sat down next to her girlfriend, the two exchanged a quick kiss. There were two large platters that had heaping stacks of fried fish, clams, squid, and scallops, along with French fries and onion rings. There was a bowl of cole slaw, as well as a bowl of tossed salad for those who would prefer that. To drink, there were two pitchers of sangrias: one alcoholic and the other non. As the platters made their journey around the table, Rose insisted we eat plenty, because there was more in the oven. Erin complimented, "Damn, this is some mighty good cooking! If I knew you cooked this good, I would have skipped class Monday night." "Erin, you can come over anytime and I'll give you something to EAT," Rose replied with a husky voice, which she then topped off with an extravagant wink. Everybody chuckled at Rose, save Pollyanna. Her hands were out of sight, but the squeal and jump that Rose made in her seat caused everybody to laugh harder. "I'm the only one allowed to feast upon your petals," Pollyanna told her girlfriend. After everybody had stopped laughing, Erin asked, "Do you all have lunch together all the time?" "Well," I said. "It started when I invited Traci over for lunch one Saturday and had three unexpected guests come with her." I then explained how our lunchtime routine had become a tradition. The rest of lunch was spent in a light atmosphere. When Traci mentioned that she and Lori were going to a cheerleading party, Erin gave me a surprised look. "Damn, there goes my theory about you and brunette cheerleaders; I wouldn't have thought wild horses would have kept you from that party." Erin then turned her attention to Marge and Jean, saying "I bet with hot bodies like yours, you two must have been cheerleaders." Both women, who were still wearing their bikinis, smiled but shook their heads. "I wasn't, but my older sister, Mel, was," Marge said. "I wasn't a cheerleader, but I did date one," Jean said. She waited a few seconds before adding, wistfully, "She was a good kisser." As much sympathy as I felt for Michelle, part of me was relieved to see that I was not the only one to be targeted for having shocking information revealed while drinking a beverage. Luckily, Michelle only had a small mouthful of sangria when Jean dropped that bombshell on her, and the spray that flew from her mouth was slight. While everybody but Michelle had chuckled, I noticed that Traci and Lori did not touch their glasses until the topic of conversation changed. Perhaps they were wary of their mother adding, 'So was Mel'. When we finished eating, Rose brought out coffee and a crumb cake for desert. Erin complained, "Damn, Marigold, I swear you're trying to make me fat!" Rose scoffed, and I thought I knew why. The tight-fitting outfit Erin had worn on her previous visit had made it clear that she did not have an ounce of fat on her tall frame. Even after her protest, Erin did end up eating a small slice of the cake before she informed me that we had better be leaving. After retrieving my wallet and checkbook, I met Erin at the foyer, where she was saying goodbye to everybody. Traci asked, "Will you still be around when we get back from the party?" Erin shrugged and said, "Maybe. The last guy we'll be seeing doesn't get off of his job until five, so depending on how long we take with him, I'm thinking well be back before seven. When's your girls' party?" Lori answered, "Starts at four thirty, with diner at five. We rented the banquet room until nine, but I doubt we'll stay that long. I'll see Vicky tonight and see if she's free tomorrow." "Oh, she's a cheerleader? Is she a brunette, by chance?" Erin said, grinning at me. Lori started to shake her head, saying, "No, she's blonde... wait a second!" Lori's eyes widened; she grinned and said, "Actually, she is a natural brunette, but she bleaches her hair." While I found that fact mildly amusing, everybody else seemed to find it hysterical. After everyone had had a good laugh, Erin and I left the house and went to her car. As we approached the beat-up, two-toned, rusted, dented, twenty-eight-year-old Datsun 280 ZX, she felt obligated to explain, "Don't worry about my driving; I bought it like that." Actually, I was not worried the slightest. During my research, I had discovered she had a spotless DMV record. She had also sold her four-year-old Lexus SC 430 for a nifty sum and had used only a small fraction to buy the Datsun. However, when I did get into the car, I made sure my seatbelt was tight. It was not out of fear of her driving, but more to do with the fact that it did not have air bags. After Erin pulled out and we were underway, she asked, "Tell me if I am wrong, but Marge was totally hitting on me, right?" I laughed and said, "Erin, I think Ray Charles could have seen that, and he is dead and buried." Erin chuckled and said, "I thought so, but part of me thought that I had gone without so long that I was imagining things." She then asked, "Jesus, were all of the girls in the house bi?" Shaking my head, I explained, "No, I think Marge would be the only one that would be considered bisexual. She did have a female lover, but it has been over ten years since then. Rose and Pollyanna are full-on lesbians and are in love with each other. They have no interest in guys." "You sure?" Erin inquired. I had been quite sure, up until Rose's comment last Monday. I had occasionally flirted with all of the girls, but it had always been in good fun. Rose and Pollyanna were so deeply committed to each other, that I had trouble seeing them with anybody else. Then again, Traci and I were also deeply committed, but that did not seem to stop me. "Okay, I'm not one-hundred-percent sure, more like eighty-seven-percent," I replied after I had thought about it. "Jean is happily married, and while what she said at lunch was new, I was not that surprised. I'm guessing that she might have experimented in high school or college, but I think her flirting was mostly influenced by Marge... Actually, the more I think about it, I better stick to what I do know instead of speculating. Okay, you are the first girl who ever kissed Lori, but she was Slave at the time. I did have her fill out a questionnaire to find out what her limits were and what she wanted to explore, and she did mark having sexual relationships with another woman very high. Her sister is another story. She has made it clear to everybody around her that she pure heterosexual." "Poor Michelle," observed Erin. Michelle had toned down her lustful, longing looks at Traci considerably since I had begun dating my girlfriend. Still, on rare occasions, I would catch Michelle giving Traci a subtle glance, but it took an extremely keen eye to notice it. I was surprised that Erin had picked up on Michelle's object of desire so effortlessly, and I began to wonder about the mythical 'gay-dar'. "How's life with your ex?" I asked. "Or should we wait until you're not driving?" I quickly added, memories of Slave's emotional driving flashing in my mind. Shrugging her shoulders, she answered, "We have our bad days, followed by worse days, followed by horrible ones. We do seem to be doing a good job of avoiding being in the apartment at the same time, except for evenings. Dig this: I'm the one who invited her to move in with me and she's the one who cheated, but yet somehow, she gets to sleep in my bed, while I get stuck on the sofa." "Well, if things do get to the point where you do have to move out, I do have a spare, non-subterranean bedroom, if need be. And contrary to how it might seem, it doesn't require that you have to have sex with me to live there." "And if I want to have sex with you without living there?" Erin asked grinning. Smiling, I replied, "Then you have to clear it with the owner of my cock." Erin thought for a second before laughing. "Traci? That's right, you had to wait for permission for Lori to undertake her training. " "She owns my body, heart, and soul. Actually, I would be quite content just being with Traci; I love her like no other. Don't get me wrong, I care deeply about Marge and Lori, as well, but if I had to make a choice, it would be Traci in less than a heartbeat. Both of the other women know and accept that. The reason why I even approached Traci with the idea of me becoming her sister's master was that I was afraid somebody else, one who did not have Lori's best interests at heart, would fill that void. Traci was the one who insisted that I develop a sexual relationship with Marge." Erin waited until she had merged with the freeway traffic before saying, "Well, I really do wish you the best of luck. I've know plenty of people who have been in such relationships, myself included, and while there are a few that stand the test of time, most fail. Hell, my ex and I started off that way, but it was her that insisted that we be monogamous. That's the real kicker: she's the one who insisted that we should only see each other, and then she went behind my back and slept around. I will say that those who do pull it off seem to have a stronger bond than most regular couples do; I guess it is because communication and trust are such big factors in polyamory. Though you're the first I've seen do it with family members. Oh, wait, I take that back; I did know a guy who dated a brother and sister. I think the three of them are still together, but I lost track of them." We were only on the freeway for a few minutes before Erin took an off-ramp. When we were back on the surface streets, I asked, "Will any of these guys have problems selling to a minor?" "Nah," Erin replied. "I already told them that you were some spoiled rich kid who had money to blow and probably didn't know the difference between a sleepsack and straitjacket." Erin let out a chuckle when she saw my dubious look. "Okay, I actually told them that you were young, but you knew a lot about the scene. I also mentioned that if they played their cards right, that you might be a repeat customer." I smiled and we spent the rest of the drive discussing the artisans I was going to meet that afternoon. ------- Erin had been correct. I might have found better quality either up north or down south in the bigger cities, but the people I met took great pride in their work. Lawrence, the first craftsman that I met, worked in the medium of metal. There were two pieces of equipment that I found appealing: a jail cell and bondage table/cage. The jail cell was six-and-a-half feet tall and two-foot by two-foot. The feature that I liked about it was that it had three separate doors, so that certain areas could be accessed while keeping the others locked. The bondage table/cage was six feet long, thirty-two inches high, and twenty-seven inches wide. Both the top and floor were padded with upholstered leather, and every other bar along the length had a Dee ring welded on it. Both items broke down, so getting them down to the Dungeon would not be a problem. I seemed to impress Lawrence when I asked if they could be modified with a panic release so that my slave could release herself if need be. He explained that it should not be a problem, since he would have to build both items for me since the ones that I was looking at were display models. I was also intrigued by the steel stocks and pillory he had, as well as a few other items. After we agreed on a price for the cell and table, I gave him a twenty-five-percent deposit. I also told him that I might be giving him a call regarding some of the other stuff if I was unhappy with the quality of work from the other artisans I was going to visit. Molly was the second person that Erin took me to meet. We hit it off immediately; perhaps it was due to my interest in her machine shop, instead of just the fucking machines that she showed. While the machines were rudimentary, they appeared to do the tasks they were designed for. When I told Molly the specifics of the machines I was interested in, as well as provided her with a few rough sketches, she informed me that it would take her at least three months to build them. After I explained that I could build them myself but lacked the resources, Molly made me an offer. She would let me use her machine shop for a modest fee, as long as I tried to keep out from under her feet. I gave her enough money to pay for the materials that I would need as well as for the first ten hours of usage. In my opinion, Erin saved the best for last. Carl was a carpenter, and unlike the previous two artisans, he did his side-business out of his garage instead of at his workplace. When he showed Erin and me into his garage, my attention was drawn to the revolving bondage wheel that was mounted on one of the walls. "You have good taste," Carl commented as I went over and began inspecting the wheel. It was covered in padded leather and had three small straps for each arm and leg. It also had two larger straps for the torso, and while the chrome-plated hand grips were firmly mounted, the steel foot plates were adjustable. There were six Dee rings attached along the circumference of the wheel, providing anchors for additional bondage. I glanced at Carl as I placed my hand on the edge of the wheel, asking for permission with my look. After he smiled and nodded, I released the foot brake and spun. The wheel spun in a smooth fluid motion. However, it was difficult to ascertain how it would behave with the weight of a person strapped to it. It seemed as if Carl had read my mind, because he suggested to Erin, "Why don't you hop on so he can see how it handles with a person strapped in?" Grinning, Erin gave Carl the one finger salute, saying, "Yeah, right! In this dress? I don't think so." "Actually, that is a good idea." Seeing Erin's surprised look, I told her, "I'll get on, and you can spin me." Trust is a major factor in BDSM and while I had not known Carl long enough for him to earn my trust completely, I felt safe with Erin's judgment of him. Once I was secured, Erin spun the wheel and stopped it with me completely inverted. While it was slightly uncomfortable, the straps were not painful. Also, the wheel seemed to spin as easily as when it was unencumbered. Erin made one more revolution, stopping at each of the eight anchor-point positions before unstrapping and releasing me. "I must say that this is a fine piece of art. How much are you selling it for?" He thought for a moment before holding up a couple of fingers. I was surprised; I had expected more. So I asked, "Why only two grand?" "Well, I have only been able to sell one other in the past five years. Since it has to be mounted to the wall and floor, it's not like it can be displayed at the few shops around here. Also, most people into the scene want equipment that can be broken down and put away, out of sight. This sucker, once it is mounted, it is pretty much stuck there. Now, two is for this one here. If you want me to build you one, then it will cost you at least three." I thought about it for a moment. Lori was only a few inches smaller than I was, so it should work out just fine for her. As for the color, black leather would fit in just fine in the Dungeon. As for what section to put it in, I thought the Inner Sanctum would be the best location. While it was not exactly hardcore, it was something that once Slave was strapped in, she would be at anybody's mercy, without any way of getting herself out. "No, this one will work just fine. I can pay you a grand in cash now, and either write you a check for the rest or pay you in cash, later." I do not know if it was my willingness to buy the revolving bondage wheel or the fact that I was willing to pay cash right then and there, but Carl was speechless for a moment. When he recovered, he asked, "Would you need me to install it, or can you handle it yourself?" I answered, "I've got the tools to do it myself. Also, I won't be needing it for a while, so we can hold off on delivery until you're done with the other stuff I need." A grin erupted across his face as he asked, "What else do you need?" It only took ten minutes to negotiate prices for the other items that I wanted. Three of the items -- stocks, pillory, and a Saint Andrew's Cross -- I wanted done in redwood to match the paneling in the Dungeon. Carl did prefer cash, so I gave him all the money I had in my wallet along with a guarantee that he would be paid the remaining balance when he dropped off the equipment. It was during the drive back home that Erin voiced her amazement. "I can't believe you spent so much money, this afternoon. Do you know how many months' rent that would have been for me?" Actually, I did know, but I wisely did not answer that question. Instead, I shrugged and replied, "Well, they were one-time purchases, and I plan on getting my money out of them with Slave." "You sure that Slave will be the only one who'll be using them?" Again, Erin brought up another good point. While Lori was the only person that I would allow to become my slave, was there anybody else who would want to use the equipment in the Dungeon? Instead of giving it too much thought, I joked, "Well, I guess I could always use them on you." Erin scoffed, but I did detect a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. Lori's car was not in the driveway when we pulled up in front of the house. Helping Erin carry in the equipment that she was able to acquire for me, we were able to bring everything in on one trip. When we entered the house, we found Marge alone in the living room, watching the plasma. "Rose spending the night at Pollyanna's?" I asked. When Marge nodded, Erin seemed surprised. "Wow. Do her parents know that Dulcina is her girlfriend, or are they not there?" Misreading the look on Marge's face, Erin started to explain, "Dulcina is --," "-- Latin for Rose," Marge said, finishing Erin's sentence. "I studied Latin to help me in Medical School. I was just surprised that you knew that." Grinning, Erin replied, "I've been doing some web-surfing since I accidentally called her by her mom's name. I've compiled quite a list flower terms to call her. Now, I just have to remember to use them when I can." Marge smiled at the tall black-haired girl, she set down the bags she was carrying on the coffee table and sat beside her. I sat in the chair that was closest to them and explained Erin's earlier question, "I don't know if Pollyanna's parents are there tonight, but they are well-aware of the type of relationship their daughter and Rose have. Next time you see Rose, ask her what Pollyanna's mom gave her for her birthday." Grinning, Erin asked, "By chance, would it be something that I might find at work or even be in one of these bags?" I just matched her grin, and she began to chuckle. Marge asked, "You going to be taking that stuff downstairs tonight?" "Actually, I thought I might try out a few of the items on Slave, tonight. You interested?" I asked Marge. My usual invitations for Marge to join the scene with Slave were always politely turned down. This time she answered, "Depends." She then placed her hand lightly on Erin's arm and asked her, "Will you be joining us?" Erin matched the seductive smile she was receiving from the older woman, but she shook her head, saying, "As tempting as that offer is, I think it would be better for me to get to know Lori, first." I discovered whom Traci had inherited her trademark pout from when Marge gave Erin the look I had often seen on my girlfriend. Erin surprised the other brunette when she leaned in and gave the protruded lip a quick kiss. Erin then got to her feet and asked where bathroom was. After I gave her the directions, she left the living room. "I take it you heard from your friend?" I asked the still slightly-bewildered Marge. Marge shook her head as if trying to clear it before responding. "Yeah, you were right. Erin did get her blood drawn at the hospital, and she doesn't have any STDs." That was one tidbit of information that I was unable to confirm by myself when I did my limited background-check on Erin. It had been a longshot that she had gone to Central City's hospital to see a phlebotomist instead of one at San Luis hospital. "It looks like you don't have any problems flirting with her," I observed. Marge blushed slightly and replied, "Damn, she sure is sexy. I don't know what it is about her, but I'm drawn towards her like a moth to an open flame. I think the fact that she did not come from my womb is a big plus." We were both giggling when Erin returned, so she asked what was so funny. I started to reply when Marge threw one of the pillows on the couch at me. Some crimson had crept into her face, so I decided to save her further embarrassment and remained silent. Erin grinned, and when she resumed her seat on the couch, it seemed that she positioned herself closer to Marge, a fact that Marge also noticed. Marge hesitantly started to lift her right arm to put it around the other women but it faltered slightly and sank back down to her lap. Erin then took hold of Marge's arm and guided it around her shoulders, snuggling up to the surprised women. Once she seemed to get herself settled, she asked, "What's the big deal about using some of this stuff before taking it down to the Dungeon?" Marge, who was still slightly surprised from Erin's forwardness, took a few seconds before answering. "Traci told me that Chad likes to keep his equipment separate. Once it goes down in the Dungeon, it is not taken out." Erin nodded and because she was pressed against Marge, it caused Marge's right breast to jiggle slightly. The fact that her nipples were erect had little to do with the stimulation the fabric her blouse had caused; they had been gradually growing harder ever since Erin and I came into the living room. Erin seemed not to notice the effect she was having on Marge. "Good idea, keeping the worlds separate. Can get rather expensive, but I guess you can afford it. Hmm, that reminds me. Do you think it's wise for Lori to have two separate personas: Slave and Lori?" Having multiple personas was the way that I had operated when I was in the CYA, and I had turned out normal. Actually, I was a shallow, paranoid, nicotine-addicted, egotistical jerk who, despite having a devoted girlfriend, seemed to be hell-bent on creating a harem. Perhaps Erin had a valid point. Erin, Marge, and I spent a great deal of time going over the pros and cons of having separate personas. We were so very much into our conversation, that nobody noticed when Lori's car pulled into the driveway. It wasn't until Traci burst into the house that we realized that they had returned. "Erin! You're still here!" a jubilant Traci observed when she entered the house. Her grin grew even larger when she saw the position that her mother and Erin were in. A subdued Lori entered the house and closed the door that her sister had left wide open. Traci had settled herself in my lap by the time Lori joined us in the living room. Giving Erin a pleasant smile, Lori told her, "Vicky said that she can go shopping with us tomorrow." "Great! Well, I think I'd better be heading on home, now. I suspect that Chad wants to try some of the stuff on the table out on Slave. Just remember, Chad, don't leave too many marks. Sales clerks get all bothered when they see marks on a girl. Hell, I had to talk a couple of them out of calling the police because they thought my slave was being abused." Erin sat up, but before she got to her feet, she turned into Marge and gave the surprised woman a soft, tantalizing kiss on the lips. When the kiss was finally broken, Marge was beginning to breathe heavily; a small frown appeared on her face, most likely caused by the thought of Erin leaving. When Erin stood up, she approached Lori and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. Erin only had to lean in slightly, because Lori leaned in, as well. Their kiss started the same as the previous one, until Lori inserted her tongue into Erin's mouth. Erin broke into a grin when they finished their tongue duel. "Now, that was a lot better than before! Did Chad follow through on his promise to have Slave make out with her teammates?" Lori blushed and franticly shook her head. Erin then turned her attention to Traci, but when the tall young woman started to advance towards my girlfriend, Traci held up a hand as if warding her off. Traci mimicked her sister's headshake, which drew a chuckle from Erin. She blew Traci a kiss that resulted in a smile from my girlfriend. I tried to stand up to walk Erin to the door, but Traci refused to move from my lap. Instead of pushing her off me, I wrapped my arms around her and quickly stood up, which drew a squeal from her and laughter from everybody else. I thought about unceremoniously dropping her into the now-vacant chair, but the tight grip that she had around my neck made me think otherwise. Everybody whose feet could touch the floor ended up walking Erin to the door and bidding her goodnight. As soon as the door had closed behind Erin, Traci asked to be set down. I guessed that she had figured that, if she was in my arms, then Erin would not have a chance to give me a farewell kiss like she did to Traci's mother and sister. Once Traci had returned to her feet and turned to head back to the living room, I gave her sexy little bottom a playful slap. She turned her head back and flashed me a grin, wiggling her bottom at the same time. However, before I had a chance to give her another one, she quickly danced her way out of my reach. "Wait a moment," I instructed Traci. She had quickly returned to the living room and had begun rummaging around in one of the bags on the coffee table. She gave me the same pout I had seen earlier on Marge and sat down, sulking, in a chair. After I asked Marge and Lori to sit on the couch, I moved to stand behind the coffee table so I could see all three women as I talked. "During my afternoon with Erin, she brought up a couple of things that I think we need to address." "She'd better not have 'brought up' anything in your pants," commented Traci. While I would usually appreciate a pun as bad as Traci had just made, I knew the direction that conversation would head, so only gave my girlfriend a weak smile. Traci must have realized the gravity of the situation by my response and looked slightly nervous as I continued. "First, I want to know what Lori's feelings would be if Erin were to join in scenes with Slave. I don't mean having Erin take on the role of Slave's Mistress right away, but having an active role, nevertheless." The room was silent as Lori thought about what I had just asked. Almost a minute elapsed before she replied, "I think -- no, I know -- that Slave would want to at least try being with Erin. If she can't handle it, she could always use the safety phrase." "Okay, what about you?" I asked, turning my attention to Traci. "Would you be okay if Erin were to join in on some of the scenes? After all, there might be times when Erin and I might get involved. For example, I might fuck Erin, shoot my load in her pussy, and have Slave eat her out." Even with my focus on my girlfriend, I caught out of the corner of my eye Lori subconsciously licking her lips. Traci did not take as long as her sister did to reply. "It would just be 'fucking', right? I mean, it wouldn't be like it is when you're with Mom and Lori?" I nodded. "Yes. While I do like Erin, I don't have a spiritual link like I have with Lori and Marge." "Well, since I'll always be there," Traci then paused and waited for me to nod before she continued, "I think I can handle it. Though, if I can't, I want you to promise me to stop if I say so." I gave Traci a smile before answering. "That should go without saying. If you EVER want me to stop something, just tell me and I shall." Traci returned my smile, so I then moved on to the next topic. "Erin brought up an interesting point that we should be more concerned about. Up to now, Lori has been having two personas: herself and Slave. Over time, I had hoped that we would be able to slowly blend the personas into one. Now, I thought it might be easier for Lori to operate this way, but it can be harmful, psychologically, to keep up this practice. Erin said that she knew plenty of slaves who have done both without any harmful effects, but she has also heard of too many cases of people developing multiple-personality disorder. I was wondering if we should perhaps lessen the distinction between Lori and Slave." Again, silence descended upon the room as Lori thought about what I said. When she did speak, her voice grew stronger the more she said. "I... think... I prefer having two personas, for now. Even when I am Slave, deep down I know I am still myself. It's not like I am blacking out or not remembering what happens when I'm Slave. At least for the short term, I would like to continue the way we have been doing it." "Well, to be fair, I told you that I would take on the Master persona, but I have not fully embraced it as you have. I guess I'm afraid that if I did, then he might only focus on Slave and not worry about Lori's best interest, something that I promised myself that I would not do. Maybe part of the reason why we have been progressing so slowly isn't out of my concern about you, but my fear of going too far too fast. However, as Erin explained to me, I should strive to fully push my slave to her limits, but not go beyond them. I think tonight I shall try to be a more diligent master." Lori gave me a smile and nodded. I waited a moment before asking my next question. I already knew the answer from reading Lori's journal, but the others in the room needed to hear it, as well. "Lori, how would you feel if Marge were to join us in our scenes?" Marge started to protest, but Lori quickly answered, cutting her mother off. "I would really like that." Marge seemed stunned by her daughter's words and actually recoiled slightly. Lori turned to face Marge and quickly explained, "Mom, ever since you told me and Traci about you and Mel, I started imagining what it would be like to have sex with the two of you. I never thought of you two sexually before, but the more I thought about it, the more excited I got. Then, when you told Traci and me that you were having the same desires towards us, I was ecstatic, but even after that, you always disappear when I become Slave. It would mean so much to me if you would stay and join in." Tears had begun to well up in Lori's eyes, and Marge wrapped her arms around her, giving her a hug. When they broke the hug, Marge kept her hands on Lori's shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "Honey, when I look at you, I don't just see the beautiful young woman that you are, but the child that I held after I gave birth to you. I see the kindergartener who came home one day with two of her teeth knocked out because she fell off the jungle gym. I see the junior that was truly happy for the first time since her father died because she had made the Varsity cheer squad. I can't help but think I would be betraying all of them by giving in to my selfish desires." "Can't you just look at me as Slave and push the rest aside?" Marge slowly shook her head and said, "I don't think so. Anyway, even if I could, if anyone found out that I was having sex with my daughter, they would take you and Traci away from me. It was hard enough losing John, but if I lost you two, I would just die. I doubt telling the judge, 'Oh, she wasn't my daughter, she was Slave' would work." "I swear, nobody would find out. You don't have to join us when other people are around, and I promise none of us will talk about it. You could try it once, and if you can't deal with it, then I promise I won't ever bother you again." "Fine," Marge said and she released her hold on Lori's shoulders. "I'll try it tonight, but it will only be with Slave." Lori nodded, saying, "Understood. I don't know if I could handle it if I wasn't in slave mode." Marge let out a small sigh. "Jesus! I swear this is something straight out of Springer. 'Mothers who fuck their daughters and their other daughters' boyfriends'." "JERRY, JERRY," Traci chanted. Both Marge and Lori quickly swirled their heads towards the youngest Caspar. Traci had remained absolutely quiet during the conversation that Marge and Lori had had, and it appeared that her presence had been forgotten. The levity of Traci's interruption made everybody chuckle. "Okay, Chad, what'cha got in those bags?" Marge asked with a determined tone. ------- Chapter 32 "I'm all tied up with no place to go." - J. d'Arc I could not help myself and grinned at the insistent way Marge had asked me what I had in the bags that were on the coffee table. Any other matters that I wanted to discuss with the Caspar women were pushed aside, and I picked up one of the bags. I grabbed a hold of the first thing I touched and began to slowly withdraw it, but paused just before it came into view and said, "Now, wouldn't it be so much better for Slave to discover some of these items when they are used, and not before?" Traci, Lori, and Marge had all begun to lean forward as soon as I had touched the bag. However, when I made my observation, all three groaned and collapsed back into their seats. As comical as their antics were, I was successfully able to suppress a chuckle, but I did feel my grin widen. I rummaged through the bag I was holding, and not finding what I was looking for, I set it down and picked up the next bag. It was in the third bag that I found the item that I sought. When I pulled out the object, Traci let out a surprised gasp. "Hey, that looks like mine!" Traci exclaimed. While the leather hood appeared similar to the one that Traci had received from 'Santa' at Christmas, it had a few differences. For one, there were padded ear pockets that blocked out all but the loudest of noises. In addition, also unlike Traci's hood, the area over the mouth was not detachable. Instead, there was a three-quarter-inch mouth hole that would allow Slave to breathe -- but she would be forced to do so through gritted teeth. A strap that ran underneath the jaw would prevent her from opening her mouth. I looked at Marge and asked, "Were you able to pick up the items on the list I gave you? More specifically, the first item I asked for?" Marge was staring transfixedly at the sensory deprivation hood I was holding, and did not seem to hear my question at first. I was about to ask again about the medical supply list I had given to her a few days prior when she nodded. "Okay. Lori, I would like you to go upstairs with Marge, where she will give you an enema. Then, when you are finished with that, I want you to take a shower so that you are nice and clean. After you dry yourself off, you will put on the hood. Don't worry about lacing it up or doing the straps, I will take care of it once you return. Once that hood is on, you shall become Slave, and Master's Lover will escort her back down here. Any questions?" "Yes... well, it is more of a suggestion rather than a question," Lori said. "Mom should have the enema, instead. After all, she is not safely on the pill, yet." I saw the signs of a sexual flush beginning on Marge. I wondered if she was thinking about the same possibilities I was. I smiled and asked her, "You have more than one nozzle?" When she nodded, I said, "Okay, both of you will have enemas, then. We'll leave whose asshole I come in and who'll be sucking out my cum for later." A small spasm passed through Marge's body, but she quickly regained her senses. "Go on upstairs and get undressed. I'll be up in a couple of minutes after I have prepared a solution for us," Marge instructed Lori. From her tone, it sounded like she was not talking as a mother to a daughter, but as a nurse to a patient. Lori stood up to comply with Marge's orders. When she took the hood that I offered to her, she seemed to hold it almost reverently. As Lori ascended the staircase and Marge headed to the kitchen, I began to take out the items that I would most likely be using that evening. Traci watched with amused interest at first, but then she suddenly jumped to her feet and began to walk briskly to the hall that lead to our bedroom. Curious, I asked, "Where are you going?" "To change," she answered, not even bothering to look back. I only had ten yards of three-eighths-diameter soft cotton rope, so I stood next to the coffee table and visualized Slave laid out upon it. Once I had a good idea of the knots that I would be using, I set down the rope and began setting out a few more items that would be useful. "What the hell is that?" Traci had returned to the living room, and while I was not terribly surprised to see her carrying her vibrator, I was taken aback by what she was wearing. She had on a pair of my sweats, and while she had grown two inches to my one in the past five months we had known each other, my clothes were still rather baggy on her. The clothes surprised me enough that it took me a moment to recall she had asked me a question. I figured she was referring to the object that I was holding. "It is a FeelDoe. It is a double-ended dildo, but the shorter, egg-shaped knob goes inside the wearer's pussy. This ribbed patch will rub right up against the clitoris and," I paused and picked up a harness that I had already placed on the table, "you can also use it with this for more stability." Traci's gaze went from the silicone dildo to the stuff on the table. Amused, she asked, "Did you ask Erin to get those in purple?" I shook my head. Both the bondage rope and FeelDoe were in my favorite color, but I had not given Erin any special instructions when it came to color. "I guess she must have known because of my Birkenstocks." I started moving items from the table to the couch, asking, "Could you do me a favor and lie down?" "Nooooooooo," Traci said, slowly shaking her head. Flashing a reassuring smile, I pledged, "I promise I won't tie you up. I just want to see if I have enough rope." I received a dubious look, but Traci cautiously complied. While the physiques of Traci and her sister were different, I was able to get a rough idea of the amount of rope I needed. I kept my word to my girlfriend and did not bind her at all; rather, Traci held on to the length of rope that I would need for Slave's wrists over her head and kept her ankles next to the legs of the coffee table. After I made certain I had a sufficient supply, I began to coil the rope up. Traci got off the table and sat in her father's chair. "Slave's head will be toward this end, right?" she asked, indicating the one closest to her. I nodded and she proceeded to get comfortable. Watching her shift around wearing my sweats, my curiosity got the best of me. I guessed Traci's idiosyncrasies were beginning to rub off onto me, because I asked, "Why are you wearing that?" Traci let out a small humph as if it was totally obvious. "Not only does my mom have sexual fantasies about me, but now my sister does, too. You think I'm going to do anything to encourage them? At least by wearing this, I can play with myself without them watching me." I almost said that she should just put a towel over her head, but Marge and Slave were not ravenous bugblatter beasts from Traal, so I kept that comment to myself. As I tried to come up with a more rational reply, Slave and Marge came into view. Slave had her right arm on the handrail and her left on Marge's shoulder. When Marge guided my blinded slave in front of me, she reached up and removed the hand from her shoulder. Slave instantly assumed second position. Since Lori's safety was my number one priority, I knew I had better explain some things before I tightened Slave's hood. Adopting my master persona, I said, "Slave, your hood will make it virtually impossible for us to communicate. Therefore, you will not need to ask for permission to come; feel free to do so. In addition, you will not be able to use your warning phrase. Instead, when you want to stop, you will say your safety phrase rapidly three times. Even if I cannot understand the words you say, I'll know to stop. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master," came Lori's barely comprehendible reply. "Finally, I will need to see how much sound your hood blocks. Once I have everything fastened, I will begin to give you orders. I will start softly, and I want you to immediately comply as soon as you understand what I am saying. Do you understand?" Again, I could only just make out Lori's answer. With care, I laced up the back of the leather hood and then securely fastened the straps. I then took a step back and began telling Slave to lift her left hand. I gradually increased my volume and was almost on the verge of shouting when she raised her left hand. Satisfied with the effectiveness of the hood, I tapped Slave's shoulder once. She dropped to her knees and assumed first position. Comforted with the knowledge that Slave could not hear me, I dropped my master persona and turned to Traci, asking, "Could you run upstairs to Lori's room and fetch her pillow?" "Fetch?!? What am I, a dog? You think I'm a bitch, like Pollyanna does Rose?!?" However, there was a trace of humor in her voice, and she quickly got up to do what I had asked. "Take your time," Marge said, dropping the robe she had been wearing and drawing closer to me. It was like lighting a fire under Traci, because she took the stairs two at a time; when she returned with the pillow, she was slightly breathless. She also threw the pillow at me, instead of merely handing it over. Knowing my girlfriend all too well, I was prepared for that form of delivery and caught it with ease. Placing the pillow on the end of the table furthest from Traci -- who had collapsed back into her father's chair -- I lifted the coffee table up and angled it away from the couch. Once I had it in the position I wanted, I tapped Slave twice on the shoulder; she stood and assumed second position. Taking her by the arm, I guided her to the coffee table. I sat her down upon the pillow and then spread her knees, guiding her feet to where I needed them to be. Once they were in place, I placed my hands on her knees and pressed down somewhat firmly. While it was not a silent signal that we had arranged beforehand, she seemed to understand what I was trying to communicate and kept her feet where they were. Placing my left hand on her back, I pressed my right hand to her chest and guided her so that she was on her back. I then took a hold of both of her wrists and raised them so that they were over her head. When I released my grip, she held them in place, and I moved over to retrieve the coil of rope. I folded the rope in half to create a lark's head and drew the ends of the rope through it to create a loop. After wrapping the loop around Slave's wrists, I reversed direction and began to bind her wrists together. I was careful to keep the tension somewhat loose, since Slave was in no position to tell me if it was too tight. Since I was working with a set amount of rope, I only wrapped the wrists four times before bringing both ends of the rope through the lark's head and cross-wrapping them, creating a cinch. Again, I kept the cinch-wrap simple, but instead of tying off the ends, I took both strands of rope and brought them to the end of the table. Keeping the rope together, I guided it underneath the table until I reached the center. I then tied a knot so that I could separate the ropes at that point and brought each end to a table leg. As with the knot that bound Slave's wrists together, I wanted there to be just enough wiggle room in the tension of the line so that Slave could move her arms slightly. I tied off each end to the table legs after making sure I had the right amount of slack for her arms. Careful not to restrict Slave's circulation, I tied her ankles with the remaining rope. I stood up and inspected my handiwork. Confident that Slave was not going anywhere, I announced, "I'm going to go and take a quick shower. Feel free to keep Slave 'entertained' until I return. Oh, please only use the stuff that I set out on the sofa. The stuff that I left in the bags should stay in the bags. Also, while Slave did express an interest in exploring her limits when it comes to pain, it would be best to hold off on dealing with that until she can at least vocalize any protests." "What are those scissors for?" Traci asked, pointing at them. "They are EMT scissors and should cut through the ropes with ease. If Slave wants out, don't bother wasting time untying her, just cut her loose," I explained. My reluctance to damage the long rope was secondary to Slave's overall safety. Traci and Marge nodded in understanding, so I headed back to the master bedroom. Before I entered the hallway, I glanced back one last time and saw Marge reach out and run her fingertips along Slave's abdomen. Stripping as I walked, I knew I was operating on a limited amount of time. Because of her fit condition, I felt that Slave could hold that position for about an hour. The sensory deprivation hood was what I was most concerned about, though; since it restricted Slave's breathing to only her mouth, I wanted to remove it as soon as possible. I was nude by the time I reached the master bathroom and only paused to tuck my long hair under a shower cap before climbing into the shower. Even though time was of the essence, I made sure to wash my entire body from the neck down, since I was unsure of what the night was going to involve. When I finished, I quickly dried myself off and tossed the shower cap aside before entering the bedroom. I paused long enough in there to grab the tube of Astroglide from the bedside table and my bathrobe. I did not bother donning the robe, but I figured it would be good to have on hand when we finished the scene. When I returned to the living room, Marge rushed me and gave me a deep kiss. My arms instinctively wrapped around her back, the lubricant and robe falling from my hands on to the floor. As our tongues dueled, I detected a familiar taste on her lips. In a turn of events, I was tasting her daughter's juices from her lips, instead of the other way around. No, it was not her daughter's, but Slave's juices, I reminded myself. When we broke the kiss, I gave her a grin and observed, "It 'tastes' like you've been busy." While the flush that Marge had might have been easy to confuse with embarrassment instead of sexual excitement, the desire in her eyes made it appear the latter. "Jesus, I swear she tastes just like Mel." To me, each of the three Caspar women had a similar, yet slightly unique, scent and taste. However, since I had never sampled the essence of Marge's sister, I had to take her word for it that this family trait carried further. "Did she have an orgasm?" "I think she has come close, but I don't think so," Marge answered. "She hasn't, and neither have I," Traci replied. Traci had been witness to more of Slave's orgasms than Marge, so she could be pretty confident with her statement. Sitting in her father's chair, Traci had her legs drawn up and both hands down the front of her sweats. Even with the distance between us, I could hear the faint sound of buzzing coming from under the article of clothing. The sound of the vibrator grew louder as I went over to my girlfriend. Leaning down, I gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Traci had tilted her head back and closed her eyes when she saw me leaning towards her, but when I only kissed her forehead, she gave me a small, playful pout. I guessed she had expected a kiss on the lips, but I felt that the subtle remaining taste on my lips would most likely be unwelcome. Her expression changed when she shifted her gaze to my manhood; a grin spread across her face. "Looks like I need to get you ready for Slave," she said, addressing my cock. When I had been tying up Slave, I had been focused on the task at hand and tried to subdue my desires. Still, Slave possessed a fantastic body, and that combined with the succulent scent of her excitement had made me semi-hard. My arousal had been washed away with the shower, but it had slowly began to creep back in ever since the greeting I had received when I returned to the living room. I took a step forward and pressed myself against the side of the chair, while Traci removed her right hand from under her sweats and reached out to stroke my hardening cock. Wrapping her small hand around the base, she looked up, and our gazes locked upon one another as she brought her lips to my cockhead. I was the first to break our staring contest when I closed my eyes to marvel at the sensation of her tongue swirling around my glans when her lips engulfed the tip. So lost was I in my tactile enjoyment, I did not notice Marge move up behind me. It was her pressing her breasts against my back that alerted me to her presence. Opening my eyes, I tried to look back at her, but the mouth on my cock made it impossible. My turned head did give Marge the opportunity to stick out her tongue and trace along the ridge of my ear, though. Again, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fully enjoy my other senses: the suction of Traci's mouth on my manhood, the nibbling of my ear and then my neck from Marge, the softness of Traci's hair on my fingertips as I rested my hands on her head, the change in tempo of the sound from the vibrator as she began to match its penetration into her with that of her mouth on my cock. It was when Marge had slowly squatted down, keeping her breasts pressed against my back and trailing little kisses as she made her descent and slid her tongue along the crack of my ass, that I finally became fully erect. My cock jumped slightly when Marge spread my cheeks and pressed her tongue against my asshole. It appeared that my reaction had alerted Traci that she was not the only person applying ministrations to my body, because she removed her mouth from my cock. Opening my eyes, I saw a look of amusement on Traci's face. "You should be good to go with Slave, now," proclaimed Traci. Upon hearing this, Marge stopped the rim job I was receiving and stood up. Free to fully turn towards her, I gave her a smile, as well as a quick kiss on the lips; her tongue had just played around the surface of my anus and had not penetrated me, so I wanted to show her my appreciation. She grinned at me and then at Traci when she saw her youngest daughter move her now-free hand under the sweatshirt she was wearing to fondle her left breast. Less than five minutes had elapsed since Slave was last attended to, and I hoped that the lapse had only increased her anticipation. As I moved back to her, something on the table caught my eye, something I knew that was not there when I had left the living room earlier. I reached down, picked it up, and arched my eyebrow when I turned my head back at Marge. The grin was still plastered to Marge's face when she explained, "I thought it might be useful, so I slipped it in my robe pocket before I came down. Since it takes some time for it to work its magic, I went ahead and applied it." "She means. To herself and. Slave," Traci haltingly clarified. Unrestrained by servicing my cock, she had fervently begun to masturbate again and was working herself close to an orgasm. In the state she was in, it was a small miracle that she had even heard her mother, let alone been able to say something. I set the tube of Anal-Eze back where I had found it. Since she had her eyes closed, Traci did not see the smile I gave her. While Traci had found it pleasurable for me to play with her rosebud using my tongue or finger, she had shown no interest in exploring anal sex. I was somewhat relieved at that, because I thought that, with her smaller frame, it would only be painful to have something as wide as my cock in her asshole. Even the desensitizing powers of Anal-Eze only helped with the initial moment of penetration and would not be effective in numbing her completely. There was a noticeable damp spot on the pillow under Slave when I crouched down to examine her pussy. She appeared incredibly wet, and while some of it may have been Marge's saliva, it was mainly her own secretions. Lining my cockhead with her entrance, I was careful to avoid contact with her and thus alert her of my presence. I figured, with my saliva-coated cock and her wetness, that I should be able to fully penetrate her with one stroke. The hood would prevent me from readily judging if I caused her discomfort or not; thus, I shifted my gaze to monitor her body language for her reaction as soon as I entered her and began to slide home. There was indeed a reaction from Slave, but it was not the one that I had been worried about. A scream of pleasure escaped through her clenched teeth as she arched her back. I felt the walls of her pussy squeezing my cock in rhythm with the spasms that coursed through her body. Even my careful precautions with tying her wrists and ankles seemed in vain; such was the force she was pulling at them, they were bound to leave rope marks. Now that I was fully seated in her, I remained motionless waiting for her to come back down. "And that is what she looks like... when she comes," an exhausted Traci explained to her mother. It appeared that Slave was not the only one to have had an orgasm; my girlfriend had her eyes closed and her head slumped to the side, her heavy breathing almost in sync with Slave's. Marge, who had moved to sit on the edge of the couch and had begun to caress her sex, glanced at her youngest daughter before turning her attentions towards me. We shared an amused look for about five seconds before the two of us burst out laughing. Both of us tried to suppress ourselves, but the shaking that passed through my body drew a moan from Slave, which in turned caused Marge and I to laugh even more. It took almost a half a minute for the two of us to contain our mirth. Once we had recovered, I began to slowly fuck Slave and Marge resumed playing with herself. I shifted my attention to Slave and concentrated on the muffled moans that escaped from the leather hood. Part of me regretted having Slave wearing the contraption, since it did not allow me to clearly read her reactions, but her immediate orgasm upon my initial entry into her was a clear indication that she enjoyed the hood. However, I was working with a time limit and wanted to remove the hood as soon as possible. "Marge, could you grab the Astroglide?" I asked. Fearing that Slave's pussy was drying out, Marge quickly abandoned her pleasuring of herself and moved to comply. After retrieving it from where I had dropped it, she came up beside me and began to undo the cap. I then added, "It's for the strap-on." The look of surprise on Marge's face at my suggestion was quickly replaced with a wicked grin. It took her a minute to figure out how to put it on, then after coating the egg-shaped bulb, she slid that end into her pussy. She then began to rub the lubricant onto the rest of the shaft. "Mom grew a cock," observed an amused Traci. It appeared that she had recovered from her own orgasm and had renewed playing with herself. I could not hear the sound of the vibrator, but from the hand movement under the sweatpants Traci was wearing; it looked like it was in good use. "Damn, it sure the hell feels like I did," commented Marge as she began to stroke the purple shaft. From the way it glistened, the FeelDoe appeared well lubricated, and as Marge continued to pump her hand up and down the silicone dildo, it appeared that she enjoyed the sensation the FeelDoe created in her pussy and on her clit. I was going to need to talk to Erin the next morning to see about getting the vibrating version. Slave, who was unable to hear any of our conversation, was working herself closer to another orgasm. I was also pretty close to coming myself and knew that it was only a short matter of time before I spilled my seed -- especially if I had to endure the wonderful feeling that the walls of her pussy created when she came. A whimper of protest escaped from Slave's lips when she felt my cock leave the warm embrace of her pussy. Once I stood up, I gestured for Marge to take my place. She hesitated for a second before crouching down and positioning herself between Slave's thighs. After running the head of the phallic member along Slave's dripping valley, Marge began to slowly guide the FeelDoe into Slave. The effect on Slave was instantaneous as the familiar feeling of my cock was replaced with this new sensation. Frozen, Slave held her breath and remained absolutely still until she felt Marge's hands upon her legs. This drew a loud moan from Slave. As Marge began to work up a steady rhythm, Slave answered by trying to lift her hips to match the thrusts. Beckoning me over with a couple of fingers, Traci gestured that I resume my former place next her. I was slightly surprised. I doubted very much she would want to perform fellatio, especially with my cock coated with Slave's juices. I turned out to be correct, as she wrapped her small right hand around my manhood and began to give me a handjob. Traci's digital manipulations of my cock were nowhere near as talented as her past endeavors. It was a good thing too, since I had been very close to coming. It was still a good feeling and she kept me hard, but she was distracted at the sight before her. At times, she would pause both of her hands (her left hand had not left her sweatpants; the telltale sound of the vibrator announcing its presence once more) and watch transfixed as her mom fucked Slave. The look on Traci's face was difficult to read, and I could only imagine the internal turmoil she must be feeling. On one hand, she was watching two women who had both admitted that they were sexuality attracted to her. On the other hand, the forbidden scene was quite erotic and seemed to make my voyeuristic girlfriend even more excited. As is usually the case, hedonism seemed to have won out, and Traci began to try to work the two of us towards an orgasm. When I felt myself once again getting close to coming, I reached down and grabbed ahold of Traci's wrist, signaling her to stop. Turning her head away from the Sapphic sight, she looked at my cock and a smile spread across her face. The grip I had on her wrist was light, so it was not difficult for her to slowly milk my cock, starting at the base and working her way towards the tip. When the drop of precum that had formed at the tip of my cock began to grow, Traci leaned closer and stuck out her tongue. Her fist almost reached the head of my cock when the drop fell upon her waiting taste buds. I had to inhale deeply and fight the urge to come when I saw the angelic look on her face, her eyes filled with the love we shared and a grin of happiness on her face. The fact that there was a trail leading from my cock to her lips did not help matters. I quickly turned away when she released her hold on me, the trail breaking as I did. It appeared that I was not the only one close to coming, as Marge had begun to quicken her thrusts into Slave. Squatting down next to Slave, I gave her right nipple a quick kiss before I began to undo the buckles on the leather hood. Once they were unbuckled, I guided Slave's head up, and she held it in place while I began to unlace it. After I was done, the leather hood hung loosely on Slave's head, and I noticed that she had to stop herself a couple of times from trying to shake it off. When she realized that I was not going to remove the contraption, she tentatively began to lower her head and only fully relaxed when I had not stopped her. The ordeal with the leather hood seemed only to postpone Slave's orgasm slightly, because less than a minute afterwards she began to tense up. Marge sensed it as well and renewed her effort in trying to bring the two of them off. Once again, I feared for the wellbeing of Slave's wrists as she pulled at her bonds, her back arching as an orgasm worked its way throughout her body. Despite that, I grabbed the top of her hood and quickly yanked it off her head. "MOOOOOOOMMMM!!!" Slave screamed out in passion, the sight of Marge plowing into her seeming to renew and greatly magnify Slave's orgasm. I do not know if it was Slave's cry that triggered Marge's orgasm, but it was at that point that Marge came. A loud cry of pleasure escaped from the oldest Caspar's lips, and she buried the FeelDoe as deep as she could into Slave's pussy, as if trying to plant nonexistent semen in her daughter's womb. Finally, as the last wave of pleasure rolled through Marge's body, she practically collapsed, exhausted, upon Slave's body. Marge remained motionless; her head beside Slave's, with their breasts pressed against each other. After a few moments, Marge's body began to shake again, but this time it was not because she was in the throes of an orgasm. When she lifted her head, tears were falling from her eyes and she moaned, "Oh, Lo... Slave." The triumphant grin that spread across Slave's face lasted for an instant, and I think I was the only one in the room who noticed it. Slave began to tug at her wrist restraints once more and I realized the folly in using one length of rope. I quickly grabbed the scissors and cut the rope that bounded her wrists. Slave wrapped her arms around Marge and began to console her. Raising her head, Slave began to kiss and lick away Marge's tears. When Marge had calmed down, Slave brought her hands up to Marge's face and cupped her cheeks. Slave waited until Marge was focused upon her, then she said, "I am so happy that my first time with a woman was with you, Master's Lover." Slave's words earned a wry grin from Marge, and their eyes remained locked as Slave gradually guided Marge's head down. Slave closed her eyes first when their lips touched and Marge began to leisurely explore the other woman's lips. As their kisses grew more passionate, I glanced over at Traci. No longer were her hands beneath her sweats; she was watching Marge and Slave with a soft smile. I could see her eyes had welled up, moved by the emotional exchange that she witnessed. When she noticed me looking at her, she flashed me a grin and wiped away her tears with the sleeve of the sweatshirt. When the vibrator hit the side of her head, she recoiled slightly and stared at the object for a second; seemingly forgetting that she was holding it. Her smile changed to a grin as she brought the silver object to her mouth and began to lick up her secretions, our gazes fixed upon each other. My erection had begun to fade slightly ever since I had untied Slave, but it came roaring back at the sight of my girlfriend enjoying her own juices. I stood up, went over to her, and scooped her easily into my arms. Neither of the two women on the table seemed to notice the small squeal that Traci let out; Marge had slowly begun to rock her hips at Slave's urgings. Traci was in my arms for only a few seconds, because I set her down behind the large chair she had been sitting in. Wordlessly, I pulled the sweatpants she was wearing down to her knees and pushed her forward; her hands instinctively raised up to rest on the back of the chair. Because of the difference in our height, I had to bend my knees slightly to line my cock with her entrance, but she let out a low moan when I entered her. The position we were in allowed the two of us to fuck with relative privacy while still being able to watch Marge and Slave. I tried to mimic Marge's movements with my own, but Traci had other ideas. Apparently, she had been on the verge of an orgasm before being stopped by Marge's emotional display, and she now desperately wanted to come. Matching my thrusts with her own, she urged me to fuck her harder and faster. Taking the vibrator that she was still holding away from her, I turned it on and brought it down between us to her rosebud, pressing the tip of it against her anus. That additional sensation was all she needed as she let out a loud scream, signaling her orgasm. I remained in her as long as I could, but the way her pussy gripped my cock when she came was too intense and I had to pull out, lest I come as well. Marge was grinning at the two of us, while Slave tried to crane her head to see what was going on. Marge leaned down and began to whisper into Slave's ear. After a few seconds, the two of them let out a small laugh. Traci was leaning against the chair heavily, the orgasm taking a toll on her body. After I had pulled her sweatpants back up, I started to guide her back to her seat, but she shook her head. Instead, she flashed me a smile and slowly trotted off towards the kitchen. When she noticed me following her, she shook her head again and waved me back towards Marge and Slave. "I love you," I mouthed to her before returning to the living room. Tossing the vibrator onto Traci's vacant seat, I stealthily moved around the two women. Slave noticed me, but did not utter a sound. She had repositioned her hands above her head and was behaving as if she was still bound and gagged. Marge, who had her eyes closed and seemed to be savoring the sensations that the FeelDoe was creating in her pussy, let out gasp of surprise when she felt me move between her legs. The nice thing about the harness that Marge was wearing was that it used two straps that went along the sides of the ass instead of up the middle, leaving her sex and asshole exposed. Since her pussy was currently occupied, I chose her vacant orifice and pressed the head of my cock against her asshole. The desensitizing cream had plenty of time to sink in, and that combined with Traci's juices still on my cock allowed me to enter Marge anally without any difficulties. Marge remained still and allowed me to fully work myself up her, moans of pleasure coming from both girls with my every thrust. When I was fully seated in her, Marge began to renew her fucking of Slave. I kept myself buried as deep as I could and mainly went along with the ride, allowing Marge to control the speed and tempo. Occasionally, I would accent one of Marge's thrusts with a thrust of my own, drawing cries from the two of them. "Can I come, Master?" Slave asked in a hurried breath. Since she was not wearing the hood, Slave had to ask permission to have an orgasm. Since I was on the verge myself, I could only let out an affirmative grunt. It must have been good enough, because Slave let out a scream and came. Marge pressed down as hard as she could, grinding the dildo harness against Slave's clit. As I felt my cum surge through the shaft of my cock, I eased back so just the head remained in Marge's rectum. My hands gripped Marge's waist tightly as my body shook with each blast of cum. Finally, after I had stopped coming, I pulled my cock out and milked any remaining jism onto Marge's ass. "Quick, squat over Slave's head," I instructed Marge. It took Marge a few seconds to comprehend what I meant. When she did, she removed the FeelDoe from Slave's pussy and quickly moved to the side of the table. Since the coffee table was too wide for her to straddle, she climbed up on it, planting her feet on either side of Slave's head. I remained between Slave's legs and reached out to grab ahold of Marge's hands to help balance her as she lowered herself. "Slave, I want you to eat as much as my cum as you can get," I commanded. "Yes, Master," Slave instantly replied and brought her hands from their position above her head to Marge's ass, spreading Marge's ass cheeks as she raise her head and began licking up my semen. Marge's eyes became unfocused and her face was awash in the pleasure of Slave's tongue on her asshole. I looked over her shoulder and saw Traci standing behind the chair; four bottles of water replacing the vibrator I had discarded in the seat. From the way she was hunched over, I thought I had a good idea where the missing pleasure toy was and how it was being used, even without hearing its telltale sound. Marge's moan brought my focus back to her and Slave. From my vantage point, it was difficult to tell, but it appeared that Slave was using a couple of fingers to scoop out my cum from Marge's asshole. After licking her fingers clean, Slave continued to finger Marge's ass, trying to get at every last drop. When Marge's legs began to quiver, I figured that Slave had gotten enough, so I helped Marge off the table. The purple FeelDoe bobbed up and down when Marge collapsed onto the couch, drawing a moan from her as the ribbed patch stimulated her clit. Traci came out from her hiding position and exchanged her vibrator with the water, handing a bottle to Marge and me. When Traci tried to hand one to Slave, she shook her head. "Slave, take the bottle," I told her exhaustedly. "I'm not thirsty, Master," Slave replied. The four of us were all perspiring heavily, and I thought that Slave needed water the most, since she had been wearing the hood for so long. I took a deep breath and repeated myself, this time using my Master persona. "Slave, take the bottle." The sexual flush that Slave had quickly vanished, and she turned pale with the realization of her error. She quickly took the offered water, smiled at Traci and said, "Thank you, Master's Girlfriend." Traci returned the smile and, seemingly acting on impulse, leaned down and gave Slave's forehead a quick kiss. Traci then returned to her chair and began to drink her water. I reached down and took ahold of Slave's arm, helping her to a sitting position. Once she was up, I began to undo the knots around her ankles. By the time I was done with both feet, she had completely drained the water bottle. "Slave, I'm going to give you five minutes to stand up and move about, so make sure to stretch your muscles. If you need to go to the bathroom, then do so. At the end of five minutes, I'll want you on the floor in first position so you can receive your punishment. Do you understand?" I had spoken softly and used a tone with Slave that I had never used before: disappointment. The effect was as if I had struck her. Tears began to well up, and she meekly nodded her head, saying "Yes, Master." When Slave started to get to her feet, her legs buckled, so I quickly reached out and grabbed ahold of her. She gave me a sad smile, and I released her once I was sure she had her balance. She slowly walked around the living room, stretching her arms as she moved about. She was only on her feet for a couple of minutes before she moved to the center of the living room and sank to her knees in first position: hands behind her back, knees spread shoulder-length apart and her butt pressed against her ankles. I waited for the five minutes to elapse before I moved to stand in front of her. She had her gaze focused on a spot on the floor and only looked up at me when I began to speak. "Slave, do you know why you are being punished?" "I called Master's Lover by the wrong name, Master." It took me a moment to figure out what Slave was referring to. When I did, I gave her a weak smile and shook my head. "No, you shouting out 'Mom' would be the same as shouting out 'God' or 'Jesus'. I am not going to punish you for that. What did you do that caused me to want to punish you right now?" Slave swallowed hard and answered, "I did not follow your order to take the water, Master." Nodding, I asked, "And?" Panic started to fill Slave's eyes as she franticly tried to think of what else she did that would have angered me. "You lied to me. You said you were not thirsty, when obliviously you were." "I'm sorry, Master!" Slave exclaimed, blinking back her tears. It was apparent that she had not fully realized the weight of her words when she refused the bottle of water. "I wanted to savor the taste of your cum as long as I could, Master." "If that was the case, then you should have taken the water and said that, instead of saying something that was not true. The most important aspect about BDSM is trust, and you can't have trust without honesty. I am going to punish you so that you will remember this. You have two choices: go without tasting my cum for a month or be whipped with Lori's riding crop." I had hoped that Slave would choose the easy way out, but there was no hesitation when she replied, "Lori's riding crop, Master." "Very well, I want you to go and get the crop. When you return, you will hand it to me and assume second position, but instead of behind your back, you will place your hands behind your head." "Yes, Master." Slave got up to do what she was told. Practically dashing out of the living room, Slave was barely out of sight when Traci let her protests be known. "Chad, do you really need to punish Slave?" Inhaling deeply, I turned to her to reply when Marge came to my defense. "Hon, Lori knew full well what she was getting herself into when she agreed to be Chad's slave. Slave did something wrong, and she deserves to be punished." There was no amusement in Marge's voice; she said it as if she was stating an obvious fact. I began to wonder just how much BDSM she and her husband had explored in college. Slave's hurried steps down the staircase interrupted my speculation, and I refocused on the task before me. Taking the offered riding crop from Slave, I allowed her to catch her breath after she resumed first position. I think she knew that, because she closed her eyes and began to focus on her breathing. I only had to wait a minute for her to finishing regulating her breathing, and when she did, she opened her eyes and gave me an apologetic smile. I raised the riding crop into the air and took aim at her right nipple. Marks on her body were taboo while Lori was still in school, so I had to pick places that would not be noticed easily. Since Slave's nipples were sensitive, I would not have to use too much force to inflict the necessary pain required. Slave's smile faded when she saw what I was aiming at, but she kept her eyes open and remained frozen in place. I brought the crop quickly down; the sound of the leather tongue striking the top of her areola seemed loud in the quiet room. "Ow!" The cry of pain did not come from Slave; it was a sympathetic one from Traci. Slave gritted her teeth upon impact and flinched, but did not mutter a sound. After a few seconds, she relaxed and said, "Thank you, Master." I had not instructed Slave to thank me for punishing her, but figured it was something she felt compelled to do -- either to inform me or the other two women in the room that she was okay with the punishment, or both. I nodded in approval at her initiative and raised the crop again. The second and third strikes against Slave's right nipple were gradually stronger; however, it was the second one that seemed to cause her the most discomfort. The leather tongue stuck just the tip of her nipple, and she recoiled in pain. Tears began to well up and her voice cracked when she thanked me after that blow. When I moved to the left nipple, I went in reverse order, starting strong and reducing the force with each additional strike, careful to make sure that the leather tongue struck her areola first. After the third time, I kept my arm lowered. "Fourth position," I instructed Slave. It was the first time that I had used that position with Slave, only having described it to her once, but she assumed it without having to be reminded. It was similar to second position, except that she was on her knees instead of standing. When she started to unclasp her hands behind her head to bring them down behind her back, I gave my head a little shake, and she kept them where they were. Slave's eyes grew wide when she saw me bring the riding crop back, and she took a quick intake of breath, holding it while she steadied herself for the impact. I brought the riding crop forward forcefully and struck her square on her hair-covered pubic mound. She flinched in pain and thanked me as she let out her breath. The next blow was nowhere near as strong as the first, but that was due to my new target, a few inches lower. "FUCK!" Slave cried out when the leather tongue made contact with her clitoris. Closing her eyes from the pain, her pelvis buckled back, recoiling from impact. She took a couple of breaths before shifting her hips forward again and opening her eyes, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks. When she spoke, I swore she was going to use her safety phrase, but she surprised me and said, "Thank you, Master." The way her voice cracked, combined with the look of complete trust that she gave me, made me want to stop with the punishment right there and then. However, I would not be true to Slave if I did not punish her for her disobedience of the rules, and she knew me well enough that there was at least one more blow coming. Unlike Lori, who was able to fully embrace her slave persona, I kept avoiding slipping into my master one. Suppressing my mixed emotions, I flicked the riding crop one last time and struck her clit. She did not cry out that time, but the pain on her face was obvious. After she thanked me, I told her to assume second position, dropping the riding crop as I spoke. Since I had not instructed her otherwise, Slave kept her hands behind her head as she gingerly stood up. She tried to be strong and hide her tenderness, but her wincing when she stood was impossible not to notice. I reached out, took her wrists, and brought her hands down to her sides. "There is one final phase to your punishment," I said as I released my grip on her, "Lori will explain, in great detail, the punishment with the riding crop to Erin and Vicky. She will tell them how I punished you, as well as the reason why." There was no fear or hesitation when Slave quickly replied, "Yes, Master." She paused and added, "But I am afraid that I can not mention the part about Master's Lover. Lori promised her mother that she would never talk about her sexual exploits, Master." Nodding, I said, "Just replace my mistress with my girlfriend in the story." Since my back was to the other two women, Slave was the only one to see my wink. I saw the amusement in her eyes, but she kept her voice neutral and replied, "Understood. Lori will tell them that I sucked the cum from her sister's asshole." "Hey!" Traci loudly protested. "Don't forget the part about her fucking you first with the strap-on," Marge added. I turned around to see Traci glancing back and forth at the three of us as if we had lost our minds. When she realized we were just teasing her, she raised her middle finger and said to each of us, "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you." "Well, if you insist," Marge replied, and she started to get up, still wearing the FeelDoe. Traci's shriek caused the three of us to laugh. Traci soon joined in, having found amusement in the situation. The humor helped push out the uneasy tension that had built up in the room. After everyone had finished laughing, I turned back to Slave and tried to give her my warmest smile. "I am very proud of you, Slave. You endured that riding crop extremely well." Slave smiled and replied, "Thank you for your praise, Master." There was no sarcasm in her voice; she truly seemed to be thankful. I placed my hands on her shoulders and leaned in to give her a tender kiss on the lips. There was a salty taste, a result from her tears. When I broke the kiss, I asked, "Which nipple hurts the most?" "My right, Master." I suspected as much, but wanted to be positive. A kiss on her chin was followed by one on the right cheek and then her neck. Working slowly, I trailed my kisses down her right breast towards her nipple. When I neared the areola, I stuck out my tongue and began to draw a leisurely circle around it. Slave began to breathe heavily, which made my task a tad more difficult, but I kept at it, my circles growing smaller with each pass. Marge's face entered my peripheral vision, and I noticed her mimicking my actions on Slave's left breast. Slave shook slightly when my tongue brushed against the tip of her right nipple, but the moan she let out seemed to be one of pleasure, and not pain. Still, when I engulfed her nipple between my lips, I only used the lightest of suction and touch as my lips and tongue played with it. My attention was focused solely on Slave's right breast, so I did not notice Marge's absence on Slave's left until Slave let out loud moan. I glanced down and saw that Marge had squatted down and had begun to run her tongue along Slave's inner thighs. I could feel Slave's tension all the way through her nipple when it appeared that Marge reached her clit. After three or four soft moans from Slave, she let out a longer one that sounded more like disappointment than anything else. I soon discovered why when I felt a tongue slide along the length of my cock. My punishment of Slave had not been exciting to me in the least, so I had remained limp throughout. It was only afterwards, when I had begun to play with Slave's nipple, that my cock had began to show signs of life again. Marge's mouth began the chore of revival only for a minute before leaving and returning back to Slave. She did that a few more times, alternating between Slave's clit and my cock, until I was hard enough for intercourse. When I was, I removed my mouth from Slave's breast and lay down on the floor. "Mount me," I commanded. "Yes, Master!" Apparently, Marge had done a good job at getting Slave ready for sex as well, because she was able to let me fill her without too much difficulty. Slave's winces and sharp inhalations of breath seemed to lessen as she slowly began to ride me. I was focused on her face, trying to gauge how much pleasure and how much pain she felt. Suddenly, my vision was filled with a new view: Traci stood above me, sans sweatpants and her hands holding her sweatshirt as far as it could go down her thighs. When she lowered her pussy down to my face, she pulled the sweatshirt over my chin and I was engulfed in darkness. Okay, it was not really darkness; the material of the sweatshirt was thin enough to allow some light pass through, but I did not need it. My familiarly with my girlfriend's pussy was like none other, and I began to eat out my girlfriend in earnest. The situation we were in reminded me of the first morning that I had spent with Lori and Traci -- before she had discovered that her sister was sexually attracted to her. I was debating about using the alphabet technique when my cock was awash with a new sensation. My cock was fully buried into Slave when I felt pressure at the base that slowly worked its way up. From the amount of force that Slave was pressing down on my chest, I deduced that her anal intruder was the FeelDoe and that Marge was still wearing it. Once I figured out what it was, I continued licking Traci's pussy until I faintly heard Slave ask, "Can I come, Master?" "Nnt yyt," I replied with my mouth full. "Not yet!" translated my girlfriend. Apparently, she had learned how to read lips. I was getting close to coming myself and wanted Slave to hold off for a little bit more. A minute later when she asked again, I said yes. I must have been clear enough, because Slave did not wait for Traci to echo me, and Slave's cry was loud enough to reach my ears even with Traci's thighs clamped around them. Marge seemed to be spurred on by Slave's orgasm, as I felt the friction from the FeelDoe increase, helping me to come as well. Gritting my teeth, I had to pause my mouth action as I blasted my small load of cum into Slave's pussy. As drained as I felt after my second orgasm of the evening, I still renewed eating Traci, trying to draw out an orgasm from her, as well. I could feel Marge removing the FeelDoe from Slave's rectum before Slave dismounted me. Without the distraction of the wonderful sensations that my cock was experiencing, I could focus on Traci's pussy. It only took a few small nips of my teeth on her little button to push her over the edge; my mouth eagerly sucking as much as I could of her secretions. Since Traci sometimes grew sensitive after an orgasm, especially if it is the third or fourth one, she dismounted me shortly after coming. When I sat up, I was greeted with an interesting sight: Slave was on her back, with her legs spread wide and Marge kneeling beside her head. Leaning low, Marge opened her mouth and allowed a slow stream of white, viscous fluid fall into Slave's awaiting open mouth. Since I was the only male in the room and it had been Slave's pussy that I had come in, it did not take a rocket genius to deduce what I had missed. My cock twitched at the erotic sight of Marge passing my cum to Slave, but luckily nobody else seemed to notice. Unlike vibrators and FeelDoes, I was made out of flesh and knew that I had reached my limit for the evening. ------- Chapter 33 "Leadership has a harder job to do than just choose sides. It must bring sides together." - J. Jackson I was still tired when I woke up Sunday morning and would have tried to have gone back to sleep except for the building pressure in my bladder. It took me a few minutes to untangle myself from between Marge and Lori -- at least, I was pretty sure it was Lori. Before I had drifted off to sleep, I muttered "Graffiti Bridge" into Slave's ear and thought I had heard her reply, " 'Night, Chad." I was able to get out of bed without waking anybody else up and trotted into the bathroom. After finishing my morning piss, I debated on leaving the seat up. In the end, I lowered it since there would be no guarantee that it would be my girlfriend who would be the next to use it. After all, it was only amusing when it was Traci's yelp of surprise I would hear, and it would be foolish of me to make enemies out of Marge and Lori. It did not matter much, anyway; Traci had not fallen for my trick in quite a while, always checking to make sure the seat was down before using the toilet. With the gymnastics moves I had to do to get out of bed, I was wide-awake and knew that it would be difficult to go back to sleep, so I decided that I might as well start my day and brushed my teeth. Upon reentering the bedroom, I noticed that the void in the bed that my absence had created had been filled; Lori had scooted back, and now had Marge's arms wrapped around her. Traci was on the other side of Marge and was sleeping on her back, the blankets partly pulled off and revealing her polka-dotted pajamas. I walked up to the side of the bed that Traci was sleeping on and spent a few minutes just gazing at the angelic face of my girlfriend. The previous evening, after we had finished cleaning up the mini-orgy that we had had in the living room, it was Traci who had insisted that Marge and Slave come back to the master bedroom with her and me. I had only been in the bedroom for a few seconds before Traci pushed me into the bathroom and insisted that I take another shower, making sure to 'clean her cock'. After my shower, I had returned to the bedroom to find Slave on her back on the bed, with Marge kneeling between her legs at the end, eating her out. Traci had then come up to me and sank to her knees, as well, and had begun to make sure I had done what I was told. Traci had also proved me wrong and had been able to milk another load of cum from me. It probably would have been easier to squeeze blood from a stone, but after she had earned a small mouthful of my jism, she had gotten up and had gone over to the bed. Slack-jawed, I had watched in amazement as Traci climbed onto the bed and fed my semen to Slave in the same fashion that Marge had done earlier. After she finished, she had gotten out of the bed, grabbed her pajamas, and gone into the bathroom to take a shower. By the time she got back, she had found Slave and me on either side of Marge, feasting on her breasts while finger-fucking her pussy. After Marge had eaten Slave to an orgasm, she had declined Slave's offer of reparation, saying that if she was going to get 'knocked up', that it would be by my cock, and not Slave's mouth. That is when Slave and I had double-teamed Marge, and we had worked her pretty close to an orgasm by the time Traci finished her shower. Marge's orgasm had been the last of the evening, as everybody was quite sated by then. Traci finally directed where everybody was to sleep: I was to spoon Slave, Marge was to spoon me, and Traci was to sleep next to her. After I had returned Slave to Lori, I had drifted off to sleep, counting the number of cigarettes I had earned. I gave my sleeping girlfriend a gentle kiss on the forehead before putting on my robe and leaving the bedroom. When I reached the living room, I noticed that the sliding glass door was open, letting a cool breeze into the house. I felt my body tense up; I was quite sure I had secured the house before retiring to the bedroom. The sound of a skillet being set down on the stove came from the kitchen, though, so I forced myself to relax as I went to greet Rose. "Morning, Daisy," I said as I entered the kitchen. Rose turned from the stove, scrunched her nose, and replied, "Morning, Chad. By the way, I only let potential lovers call me anything but 'Rose'." After a moment's pause, she gave me a seductive grin and added, "I guess you CAN call me whatever you want." Rose let out a throaty laugh at my startled reaction. I sincerely hoped that Rose's flirting was all in jest, as the idea of another lover would be quit daunting, especially after the previous night's events. I went over to the refrigerator and grabbed a Zima. While it was rather early in the morning to start drinking, golf was going to be starting up in a few weeks and I would be following the Athletic Code again, so I figured I might as well enjoy it while I could. The twist-off cap came off easily, and I tossed it on the table when I sat down. Rose waited until I took a swig before asking, "Will I be needing to make enough for Erin?" Confused, I answered, "No, why?" "Oh, I thought that she might have stayed the night. Especially after I found this in the dishwasher," Rose replied, holding up the purple FeelDoe. 'Scheiße, ' I thought to myself. Marge had put the FeelDoe into the dishwasher to clean it, despite my protests of wasting water and electricity for the single-item load. Staying steadfast, she refused to wait until there were dishes to go along with it -- the idea of eating off something that was washed at the same time as the FeelDoe being too perverted. I did not enjoy lying to Rose, but correcting her false impression might betray Marge. Skirting the issue, I said, "Oh, that. It belongs down in the Dungeon." Nodding, Rose said, "It looks wicked cool. Polly and I could really enjoy something like this, though it might be a tad too big for her." The image of Rose wearing the FeelDoe and plowing into Pollyanna entered my mind, and I had to quickly push it out. Being discovered alone in the kitchen with Rose and a hard-on would not be the best of circumstances. It was bad enough that I had to fight the stirring in my loins from Rose's earlier flirtation. "They make a smaller version. If you want, I'll ask Erin to pick up one for you." If Rose noticed the way my voice cracked, she did not let on as she replied, "No, I'll ask her myself. If you ask her, I might not end up paying for it. Besides, it will give me an excuse to talk to her. What time is she going shopping with Lori?" I had to think a moment before answering. "I don't know. Last night, Lori told Erin that Vicky was able to go shopping with them, but I don't think they set a time. Maybe you should plan on having Erin for breakfast, as well." When Rose started to giggle, I realized my unintentional pun and joined in. Rose started to reply, something about being full of Pollyanna from dinner the previous evening, when Lori came into the room. She was freshly showered, wearing my Midori no Hibi anime tee shirt and a pair of her sister's panties. When she spotted Rose, Lori blushed slightly, but Rose just shrugged nonchalantly and asked, "When are you going shopping with Erin?" "Shit!" exclaimed Lori. "I forgot to set up a time with her! And I was supposed to call Vicky once I did." There was a slightly panicky edge to Lori's voice, but Rose took care of it by asking in a commanding tone, "What is Erin's phone number?" "767-3251, Ma... Rose," Lori instantly replied, a smile breaking across her face when she said the other girl's name. While Lori went over to the kitchen phone to call Erin, Rose retrieved a container of leftover white rice from the refrigerator and dumped it into the pan on the stove. It was only a few days old and was perfectly fine for making fried rice. Drinking my Zima, I began to review places that I had not checked for any mislaid cigarettes. Unfortunately, because of Rose's zealous cleaning, I doubted I would find any under the furniture or between the cushions of the couch and chairs. I had just resolved to check my leather jacket for the umpteenth time when Marge joined us. Like Lori, she appeared to have just taken a shower, and was wearing her robe. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee when Lori hung up and dashed from the kitchen. "Erin is on her way over," Lori cried over her shoulder as she left the room. Marge subconsciously raised her left hand to her face and said, "Oh, I had better put on some makeup." While none of the women in the household wore garish amounts of cosmetics, I thought none of them needed it. I preferred the natural look and voiced that opinion. "Nonsense. You look beautiful the way you are. Why use makeup to cover it up?" Rolling her eyes, Marge patiently explained, "Chad, makeup is used to accent, not cover. I'll feel better once I have something on my face." She then set her coffee mug on the table and left the kitchen, as well. When Traci entered the kitchen, I thought I would give her a heads-up. "Erin is on her way over." "Cool," she replied as she sat down at the table. She must have noticed the look of surprise on my face, as she asked, "What?" "Oh, nothing. I thought you might want go put on some makeup or change into something else." Traci was still in her pajamas and her hair was slightly disheveled. I received a dark look and her voice was in an icy tone when she exclaimed, "You think I need to put on makeup? Am I so hideous that I need to hide behind a layer of makeup?!?" 'Tatti, ' I thought to myself. Rose, who had been witness to my discussion with Marge, began to laugh as I stammered to my defense. Traci cut me off with a grin and said, "Gotcha. I overheard you and Mom talking." Rose's laughter redoubled, and I returned my girlfriend's grin. For as much teasing as I dished out on her, it was good to see that she could give as much as she took. Once I had a chance to think about it clearly, I realized that Traci had reduced the amount of makeup she wore, sometimes wearing none at all at school. At first, I thought it was because of zero period swimming and her not wanting to have to rush to put it on between classes, but it went back before then. I, most likely, expressed my views about finding girls who did not wear cosmetics attractive, and she had taken it to heart. Occasionally, she would wear lipstick and seemed to take great pleasure in using my face as a blotter. The previous Wednesday, it was not until I was in dance during second period that I spotted myself in the mirror and saw a pair of lip marks on my cheek. No wonder Mrs. Todd had a smirk on her face every time she looked at me during English. Once Rose finished laughing, she brought over the skillet of fried rice and placed it on the table. Traci and I got up and set the table while Rose brought over the rest of the food. By the time we were finished, Marge and Lori had returned. A worried look crossed Marge's face when she glanced at Rose, but the redhead did not seem to notice it. It was not until after breakfast that I was able to find out what was bothering Marge. "Chad," Marge asked in a hushed tone as soon as we entered the living room. "Has Rose been upstairs?" Rose was in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast and had allowed Traci to assist her. I shrugged and answered, "I don't know. She was in the kitchen when I woke up, but I wouldn't see why not." Marge's worried expression seemed to deepen so I asked, "What's wrong?" "I forgot to close my door last night. If she's been upstairs, she'll know that I wasn't in my room last night." I gave Marge a soft smile and told her, "Relax. Rose is very good at keeping secrets. After all, you've kept that tube of Anal-Eze on your dresser for all this time, and has she said anything? She's the one who opened the sliding glass door to air out the room and did not give me any grief. However, when she found the FeelDoe in the dishwasher, I did tell her that it belonged in The Dungeon." Marge's eyes widened at the mention of the dildo, but after she took a cleansing breath, she forced herself to relax. Changing subjects, she asked, "How do I look?" Besides brushing her hair and putting on some lipstick, Marge was wearing a Bruins tee shirt and a pair of tight fitting jeans. Marge still maintained an athletic body, so I attributed the tightness of her alma mater shirt across her breasts from having two babies. That, or she had purchased it a size smaller to begin with. I reached out and cupped her breasts, my thumbs drawing slow circles around her nipples. "Chad!" Marge exclaimed, still in a hushed tone. She did not pull back, but her gaze shifted over my shoulder towards the kitchen. "What are you doing?" Once her nipples were erect -- the eraser sized tips poking firmly against the material -- I lowered my hands and told her, "Just adding the final touches to your ensemble." Marge smiled at me, and after one last glance towards the kitchen, gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Wednesday's brouhaha was still fresh in my mind, so I brought up the back of my hand and wiped away any remnants of lipstick that might have been transferred to my mouth. Marge began to chuckle at my antics; her laughter sounded so much like her youngest daughter's. I ended her chuckling when I wrapped my arms around her and drew her into a hug. We ended up standing there, holding each other, for a full minute. There was nothing erotic about our embrace, just two people who cared deeply about one another expressing it through a hug. When we broke the hug, Marge had a crooked smile on her face and was trying to blink back her tears, lest she ruin the mascara she had just applied. 'Thank you, ' she mouthed to me before turning away to look for some Kleenex. Marge was not just some sex fiend who could go without emotional attachment. She had arranged to have the Monday after next off from work so she could drive me around on some errands, and I vowed to myself that I would use that time wisely. Initially, I had planned on only missing third and fourth periods and hoped to be back by lunchtime, but I figured I should just write the rest of the school day off. Walking back to the master bedroom, I began to think about possible scenarios for that Monday. "Eureka!" I actually shouted it when I felt the familiar shape of a pack of cigarettes through the inside pocket of my denim jacket. My high spirits came tumbling back down, however, when I pulled out the pack and discovered it was empty. Crumbling it into a tight ball, I threw it hard into the corner of the walk-in closet. After I had composed myself, I retrieved the discarded pack and dropped it off in the wastebasket as I passed through the bathroom. I paused in there long enough to grab a hair tie and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. When I returned to the living room, I discovered everybody had migrated to the foyer. Erin had arrived, and she and Lori were just about to leave. It had taken me less than a minute to change from my robe to my current outfit (a tie-dyed 'Jesus Christ, Superstar' tee-shirt and pair of 501s), so I realized then just how long my search for cigarettes had taken. After I greeted her, I asked, "Did Rose already place her order with you?" It took her a few seconds to realize what I was asking, but when she did, she grinned and nodded. "Yeah, and I even told Petunia I was willing to give her a hands-on demonstration." Rose blushed, and from the confused looks on the Caspars' faces, I guessed they had no idea what we were talking about. "Could you get me another one, as well? Same size as before, but with the additional feature." Still grinning, Erin replied, "Sure." She then turned to Marge and said, "Same offer applies to you, as well." Marge must have figured out what we were talking about, because she began to turn red. If it was from embarrassment or a sexual flush, I was not sure. I think it was the latter, because she replied, "I just might take you up on that offer." ------- "I think we should become official," announced Rose. Everyone stopped eating and looked at her. Ever since becoming a member of the otakus, Rose had started eating lunch with us on Thursdays. She mainly kept quiet and joined in the conversation only if directly asked something. This was the first time she had initialized something on her own. "What do you mean?" asked John. "Well, wouldn't it be better if the club was official? That way, we could meet inside a classroom during lunch and take part in school events. We could even do things like costume contests or hold screenings of anime." Rose did have a good point about the classroom. The winter storms had started to rear their ugly heads, and it had been raining off and on during the past week. That day, while it had rained during the morning, it had cleared up by lunchtime, so we were able to eat at our usual table. If it had been raining, we would have had to eat lunch in one of classrooms that they open up for the students, and they were usually loud and crowded. Having our own private classroom to meet would be nice. John asked, "Who would act as our advisor? We need a teacher who will not only take responsibility for us, but would also sacrifice their lunch break to baby-sit us." "Oh, I know! We can ask that hot new teacher... what's her name... Frisky!" Rose and I both smiled at David's inadvertent use of Mrs. Frisk's pet peeve. Rose had her for second period health and knew that dire consequences lay before anyone who referred to Mrs. Frisk that way if she was in earshot. "Actually, I was thinking about Ms. Miyazawa, my social science teacher. I heard a rumor that she was trying to start up a Japanese language class, but there have not been enough students interested in it. I think I can convince her into being our club advisor." It sounded like Rose had been giving this a great deal of thought. She had my vote, but David brought up one more issue. "I don't think they would let us have a club for just seven members." "I already checked," rebutted Rose. "Both the Future Farmers of America and Chess Clubs have less than seven people." David was not convinced. "They have been around forever. If it is going to be a new club, then I'm sure that they will require that there be more than just us. Sure, there are students who like anime, but I doubt they would want to join a club or hang out with us." "So we expand it to include manga and CosPlay. I can count at least a dozen girls that I have seen reading manga on campus. As for CosPlay, when me and the other girls dressed up as the Sailor Scouts, we received a lot of positive comments. A few were blown away when they found out they were homemade." I thought that Rose's estimate of girls she had seen reading manga was a bit high. There were about a half-dozen that I could recall, and I usually had a pretty good idea of my surroundings. Then again, I had learned that it was best if I did not pay to much attention to other girls when Traci was stuck to my hip. Perhaps Rose had had better opportunities to check out girls (at least, what they were reading). "Hmm, it would be cool to have girls in our club," observed David. When Rose arched an eyebrow at him, he quickly added, "Rose, you're one of the guys. I mean real girls, you know, the 'type' that would want to date me." "Type? You mean mentally challenged?" Rose asked amusedly. David started to blush, while the rest of us started to chuckle at the grave he was digging. He only made it worse when he tried to clarify, "Girls whose sexual preference is opposite of yours." Rose sadly shook her head and told him, "Dave, despite your charming personality, if you think that me being gay is the reason why I don't want to date you, you are sadly mistaken." "Yeah, especially with that rather large foot stuck in your mouth," grinned Chuck. While David turned red, everyone else laughed at his expense. David tried to apologize to Rose, but she just waved him off with a smile and a nod. Once the laughter had died down, Bill said, "We can't call the club Otakus. That should only be used for us seven." Rose gave him an appreciative smile. She had only been officially added recently, but Rose had been an unofficial member for a while (most likely, ever since she served us wearing the revealing maid outfit). "What about the 'Contemporary Visual Culture Research Organization'?" suggested Chuck. Everybody grinned, since we had all enjoyed Genshiken and recognized the reference. It suddenly occurred to me why the idea of a club that addressed anime, manga and even CosPlay seemed familiar. My inquisitive glance was either not noticed or ignored when Rose announced, "I already thought up of a name: ACME." "Acme? Like in the Bugs Bunny cartoons?" John asked Nodding, Rose explained, "Anime, CosPlay, Manga Environment." Bill and Chuck gave Rose a rather dubious look. Raising her hands in mock surrender, Rose said, "Fine, we'll come up with a better name later. That aside, you guys game?" After everybody had nodded in agreement, I decided to speak up. "I nominate Mike to be president." Mike, like me, had remained quiet throughout the exchange, so appeared surprised at my nominating him. After he blinked a few times, he asked, "Why?" Grinning, I explained, "You're our sempai." Rolling his eyes, he appeared to think that just being an 'upperclassman' was a poor reason to be chosen as a president. Mike countered, "I think it should be the one who has the largest anime and manga collection, not to mention being able to speak Japanese." Shaking my head, I informed him, "No can do. I'll be busy with practice and won't have much time to devote to the club." "Oh, and you don't think I'll be busy studying for the SATs?" he asked. John scoffed at Mike's excuse. "You told me that you were going to Hancock, so why do you need to worry about the SATs?" Allan Hancock Community College was located in Santa Maria, and it was only a twenty-minute commute from Central City. Mike weakly replied, "You never know. I might score high enough to get a scholarship." "You'll need more than just a high SAT score for a scholarship," I pointed out. "They also look at extracurricular activities, say like being president of a club." Mike gave Bill a pleading look, to which he responded, "Hey, I work two jobs. It was hard enough for me to get Saturday nights off. There is no way I could be president." "Instead of president, I think the leader should be called chairman," stated Rose. "All those in favor of Mike being chairman," Chuck quickly said, when Mike shifted his pleading look towards him. Everyone, except Mike, raised their hand. "Motion approved," Chuck unnecessarily added. "I nominate Rose to be vice-chairman," Mike said, after his defeat had sunk in. "What?" my surprised redheaded friend asked dumbly. "Hey, it was your baka idea that we be official. Why should I be the only one who has to pay for it?" After we elected Rose to be vice-chairman, we spent the rest of lunch mapping out the goals of the club. First on the list was to come up with a better name. ------- I pressed myself against the wall as I stealthily made my way down the hallway. My eyes never left my target, his rhythmic breathing seeming to grow louder as I approached the slumbering guard. I could focus completely on him since my teammates had my back. We wanted to dispatch the guard with as little noise as possible, but if things went awry, a well-placed shot to the head should down the guard without too much ruckus. One of my teammates had the guard in her sights, and keeping close to the wall not only helped me blend into the shadows, it kept me out of the line of fire. Drawing perfectly still when the guard stopped breathing, I unconsciously held my breath until he let out a loud snore. So far, the enemy had been rank amateurs at best. We were able to subdue everyone we had encountered quickly, and the alarm had not been raised. Even though it was the middle of the night, it was still hard to believe that a guard would sleep in front of the cell he was guarding. Perhaps because he was stationed so deep in the base, he felt secure. It was going to be the last mistake he ever made. As I drew within striking distance, I discovered another factor contributing to his slumber. The scent of alcohol was heavy on his rank breath. I raised my knife above his throat and waited until he had fully exhaled before slashing his throat. If my blow was unsuccessful at killing him outright, the damage to his larynx should prevent him from making any noise beyond the sound of him gurgling his blood. Bill told me, "Roll for attack: -10 to hit because of the called shot to the artery." "Page 132 of the Player's Handbook," I quickly countered. "Defender sleeping - 'If the defender is attacked during the course of normal melee, the attack automatically hits and causes normal damage. If no other fighting is going on, the defender can be slain automatically.'" Bill gave me a grin and nodded. It seemed that he had already known that tidbit of information and was just testing me. For Christmas, my otaku friends had given me some role-playing game books: 'HackMaster' and 'Shadowrun'. The first was a fantasy-based game created from the classic 'Advanced Dungeons and Dragons'. The other was a sci-fi game that had elements of magic in it, as well. That evening, we were playing HackMaster, and I had taken John's advice and memorized the Player's Handbook to heart. "Okay, your knife slices through the guard's throat as easy as a blonde parts her legs." "Hey!" protested Pollyanna. "Yeah, I resemble that remark," I pointed out. "Me too -- three!" added Fran. Rolling his eyes, Bill said, "Fine. It passes through like a hot knife through butter." "I thought the saying was a 'knife through hot butter'," observed Michelle. "Arrghh! Okay, Valcour goes up to the guard and slices his throat, killing him." "Yeah, but how did the knife slice the guard through the guard's throat?" teased David. Everyone, except Bill, started laughing. "You know how hard it was to get Saturday night off from both jobs?" he asked rhetorically after we had calmed down. 'Easier than trying to keep three women satisfied sexually, ' I thought to myself, recalling what I had been doing the previous Saturday evening. Since the fansubbing project was on hiatus until after the trip to Japan, the otakus thought a weekly game was in order. Everyone was sick of losing their money to either Mike or me, so poker was out. It was decided that we would try HackMaster and had spent last Sunday rolling up characters. "I'm searching the guard's body. What do I find?" I asked Bill. "You find a coin purse that contains three copper pieces and one silver piece. On his belt, he has a short sword in a leather scabbard and a key ring with three keys on it." "What is he wearing on his feet?" I asked. "Leather boots." Since I made the kill solo, I was the first to call dibs. "Okay, I'll remove the boots and give them to Pumphoof. He only has sandals, right?" Bill nodded while Mike scoffed and said, "Chad, you're spoiling your hirelings. You should stop giving them so much stuff and keep it for yourself." I was briefly reminded how playing a role-playing game was similar to BDSM. By calling me Chad, Mike was making an out of character remark, and my two retainers -- Pumphoof, the torchbearer, and his brother Pumpskull, the scroll caddy -- would not hear him. "Mike, I'm a Gnomeling illusionist. What good would a pair of human-sized boots or a short sword do me? Anyway, Chuck told me how you guys treated your hirelings last campaign. Didn't they take off in the middle of the night with all of your stuff?" "Yeah. Took us three days to hunt all of them down. After we were through with them, word got out and nobody dared tried that stunt again with the Wicked Four," Mike replied with a wicked grin and a gleam in his eye. The Wicked Four was the name of the party that Mike, David, John, and Chuck had played previously. From the stories I heard, they were an evil lot whose name struck terror into the hearts of nobles and peasants alike. I was glad that they had decided to roll up new characters when the girls had voiced their interest in playing as well. The name of our party was the Destructive Dozen. Actually, there were only eleven of us that were conscious; Michelle's Halfling thief, Taithin, had succumbed to the effects of a needle coated with some type of sleeping poison when she failed at disarming a trap on a chest. I was elected to dispatch the guard because my racial bonus, combined with my high dexterity, made moving silently and hiding in the shadows easier for me than for the rest of my companions. A cleric would have fitted better with my pacific ideals, but I had rolled low in wisdom, but high in intelligence and dexterity; hence, why I had decided on playing an illusionist. After a quick debate about the merits of treating the hirelings as equals or as slaves, Bill reeled us back into the game. Using one of the keys that we found on the guard, we opened up the cell door that he had been guarding and rushed in. Inside, we found Princess Strauldra. Dyntenth had her sword drawn and began to attack her. "No, she doesn't," interrupted Marge. "Why not?" Traci replied, giving her mother a pout. "Hon, your character is a lawful-good paladin. You do not attack an unarmed, weaker opponent, especially when she is the one we were hired to rescue." Marge patiently explained. BDSM was not the only extracurricular activity she had undertaken in college. She and her husband, John, had been a part of a biweekly, second-edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons game, starting their sophomore year. When they went to medical school, they had to abandon their game, but Marge still remembered how to play. The guys had been impressed the previous Sunday when we had all met to roll up characters and she had broken out her old set of dice. It was decided that she would have veto power over the 'newbies': Traci, Lori, Michelle, Pollyanna, Rose, and me. Fran had played on enough occasions with the Wicked Four (they would call themselves 'The Wicked Plus One' when she would play) that she was not considered a newbie, and any actions she took were fair game and could not be recalled by Marge. "But she might be an imposter," pointed out Traci, "one of those dropothingamajigies." "Doppelganger," supplied Marge. "If you really believe that, then you should spend a round and see if Dyntenth can detect evil coming from her." Once we had established that Princess Strauldra was indeed the real princess, the rest of the adventure went relativity smoothly. Taithin finally woke up right about the time that Leyrald, Fran's character, fell asleep. Fran and Chuck had insisted on playing twins, and they had burned up a lot of building points so they could re-roll on the sibling table to get the desired result. To offset the building points they spent, they had taken on about a half a dozen quirks and flaws. While some were humorous, like Fyengath's flatulence -- which Chuck took great delight in acting out (much to the annoyance of those who sat around him) -- there were others that were a serious hindrance. Leyrald's narcolepsy kicked in right when he was running to jump across a chasm, and it was only by the luck of the dice that his body did not tumble over the edge. I felt lucky that the only flaw I had rolled up was being color-blind, but it remained to be seen how it would affect my spells. ------- Chapter 34 "I think I know the lyrics to the song." -M. Monroe Perhaps it was due to my healthy sex life, but erotic dreams were few and far between these days. However, Sunday morning I was having a vivid one. I was in health class, and Mrs. Frisk was covering oral sex. When she asked for volunteers to demonstrate fellatio, Traci's hand shot into the air and was chosen. Marge, who was sitting next to Traci, stuck out her tongue at her daughter and called her a brat. When Traci and I got to the front of the classroom, Traci sank to her knees and began to suck my cock. We did not have to worry about undressing, since the entire class was naked. As I looked around the room, I realized that I was the only guy there and enjoyed the view while Traci gave me head. To my disappointment, the podium that Mrs. Frisk had been lecturing behind had shifted, restricting my view of her from her breasts up; a small link chain hung from her nipple rings. The image of the classroom slowly faded from my mind as I woke up, but the wonderful sensation of my cock being sucked remained. I then realized why the clarity of my dream had been so real: my impish girlfriend was giving me a morning blowjob. Keeping my eyes closed, I savored the way Traci's mouth worked its magic on me. Her tongue would trace around the crown of my cock before engulfing me; the combination of her fist pumping me in rhythm with the bobbing of her head. After a minute of this, her hand released its hold on my cock, and I felt my cock effortlessly slide down her throat. The ease that my cock had gone down the throat caused me to open my eyes. Traci always had difficulty deepthoating me, and there were times I had to stop her from trying, lest she end up hurting herself. Rarely had she been successful on the first attempt, and I could not recall her ever being successful on the first try in the position that we were in. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Lori's lips wrapped around my cock. Lori looked up and noticed that I was awake. After she had cleared her throat, she softly said, "Happy Birthday, Master." Correction, it was not my friend, Lori, who was giving me head, but my sex slave, Slave. I had been awake for less than five minutes, and I had already made two mistakes. Before I was given a chance to say anything, Slave renewed her oral ministrations, only this time with more vigor since she knew I was awake. When I reached down to Slave's head, she took her hands away from my cock and caught my wrists. Still with my cock in her mouth, she guided my arms to rest on the bed beside me. She held my wrists for a few seconds before releasing them and returning her hands to my member. I got the message loud and clear: she wanted me to leave her alone while she gave me my birthday present. I was amused that she had used the same silent technique to communicate to me that I had used on her. As I savored the sensations I was feeling, I glanced to my right and saw that my girlfriend was still asleep. A sound sleeper, I was unsure if I should wake her up or not. The condition that Traci had set for when I was sexually active with Marge or Lori/Slave was that she be present. I doubted being unconscious is what she had in mind when she made that rule. As I debated the pros and cons on letting my sweetheart slumber, I felt a familiar twinge in my groin. A groan was the only forewarning I was able to give Slave as the first blast of cum shot into her waiting mouth. I clenched the bed sheets as I came, and I only released my grip after I had finished. Slave was diligent in making sure to collect all of it; a minute was spent slowly licking my slowly deflating cock, gathering any that she had let slip out. "How did you know today was my birthday?" I asked as she started to get off of the bed. "Susan, Master," Slave replied with a grin. Even with her cryptic answer, I knew what she meant. Last week, our report cards had arrived and Traci had pointed out that Rose's was missing. Rose had to remind her that her report card was sent to her house, since the school did not know that she was living with me. The next day, Lori had presented her with a duplicate report card. Lori had explained that her friend, Susan Ramirez, was an office aide during third period and was able to get access to student records. I gathered that Rose's report card was not the only thing Lori had asked Susan for. After Slave was out of the bed, she replaced the covers that she had removed from me and, after giving me one last smile, she strode out of the room. As I lay in bed, I pondered how I was going to spend the rest of my first birthday. Excluding the problem with the mistaken identity, it had started off with a bang ('blow'). Back at the Agency, we did not have birthdays. The closest thing to a 'birthday' that we had was October First, the first day of the fiscal year and the day we were hired (acquired). Even then, that day was deceptive, since the babies that made up a batch were usually brought in over that year. However, for recordkeeping purposes most likely, a baby brought in on September Thirtieth would be credited with one year of service the next day and have the same amount of seniority - and pay - as one who had been brought in eleven months earlier. I came to the conclusion that I would treat that day as if it were any other Sunday, so after watching my girlfriend's angelic face for a few minutes, I got out of bed. After a quick jaunt to the bathroom, I got dressed and left the bedroom. "Happy Birthday, Chad," Rose greeted me as soon as I had exited the bedroom hallway. I winced and asked, "Did Lori tell you it was my birthday?" Grinning and shaking her head, Rose replied, "Nope, you did, just now." 'Baka, ' I silently cursed at myself. I should have known that neither Lori nor Slave would have betrayed my confidence. Still, it was rather odd that Rose had picked that day of all days to wish me a happy birthday, so I asked, "What made you think that it was today?" "Well," Rose explained, "the first clue that it was coming up was the letter from the car insurance company that came for you." I found myself rolling my eyes. When I had approached Marge about taking me down to the Department of Motor Vehicles for my driving test, she had asked me about car insurance. I had told her I was planning on either getting a surety bond for $35,000 or just depositing the money with the DMV. I thought it was a complete waste of money to have to pay the premiums that the insurance companies were asking for coverage of a sixteen-year-old male. If I was ever sued because of an accident, I was relativity safe since the bulk of my money was in hidden offshore accounts. I guessed the government felt differently, perhaps since the house was listed under my name, because in less than a week, I received the letter from an auto insurance company that Rose had seen which included a policy in my name, as well as coverage for Marge and Lori, paid for by my 'parents'. "What else?" I asked. "This morning I saw Slave -- at least I think it was Slave; I don't usually see Lori walking around naked," Rose paused and looked at me for confirmation. Already having betrayed that it was my birthday, I decided to keep my expression neutral. Seeing that, she took that as a yes and continued, "Anyway, I saw her coming out from the hallway, and she had the look of 'the cat that just swallowed the canary'. Actually, she looked more like 'the stealthy, seductive sex slave who swallowed some smelly sticky semen'." I stared at my friend in disbelief for a few seconds before two short snorts escaped from me. Instead of trying to hold back my laughter, I let it go, and she joined in. When I finally recovered, I told her, "Man, that was just soooo bad. I loved it." Her grin seemed as wide as mine must have been. "Thanks. I had a few minutes to work on it," she confessed. Removing her hands from behind her back, she presented me with a gift. "Is it okay to open it?" I asked, and after she nodded, I carefully unwrapped the present. She had given me the 'Firefly' series on DVD, something that I had wanted to have as soon as I had found out about it. "Thank you," I said as I gave my redheaded friend a warm hug. "I had better get started on breakfast. Oh, I think Michelle might have told you, but while the pilot was shot first, it was the last episode to air. You might want to watch that one first," Rose told me after we had broken our hug. "Okay. Thanks for reminding me." After loading up the DVD player, I sat down on the couch and turned on the plasma. 'I am only going to watch the pilot episode, ' I told myself; the memory of the zombie I had turned into during winter break still haunted me. After ten minutes, I had already convinced myself that watching two episodes would not lead to the end of the world. The combination of witty dialogue and good action made me think that Joss Whedon's shows were as addictive as smoking. I had been watching close to half an hour when Traci joined me on the couch. So engrossed into the show, I only noticed her when she walked in front of me. My girlfriend was not a morning person, and she practically collapsed beside me. I pressed the pause button on the remote as she snuggled up to me, my right arm instinctively wrapping itself around her shoulders. I gave her left temple a quick kiss that earned me an appreciative grunt. Resuming the movie, I figured that Traci was going to drift off to sleep again. However, less than a minute later, she bolted upright and was wide-awake. Turning to me, she demanded, "What are you watching?!?" Hitting the pause button again, I answered, "Firefly." Rolling her eyes at my glib answer, she turned back to the plasma. Spotting the DVD case and wrapping paper on the coffee table, she asked, with an icy tone in her voice, "Did Rose give that to you?" I nodded cautiously and answered her next probable question, "Today's my birthday." When Traci started to get up, I caught her arm and pulled her back down. I was afraid that she was going to go and confront her friend over the issue and wanted to nip it in the bud, fast. "Traci, I am truly sorry that I did not tell you that today was my birthday. I just wanted the day to go by without anybody making a big deal about it. My family, we don't really celebrate birthdays, so it is not that important to me. Honestly, September Thirteenth holds the most meaning to me." Traci's anger seemed to defuse slightly as I explained myself. I could see her fighting a smile when she asked, "Why that day?" "Because that is the day that I met Marge and Lori and... oh, hmm. Darn, there was a third person I met, but I can't remember her name..." "Fran?" Rose not-so-helpfully supplied. There I was, trying to prevent my girlfriend from going off and getting into a fight with one of her best friends, and she comes along to provoke her. I was taken aback when Traci just shook her head. "No, I know who he's talking about. He's talking about that saintly girl who has an asshole for a boyfriend," Traci said after a moment's pause. "The beautiful, saintly, 'forgiving' girl?" I asked. Traci nodded and started to get up again. My hand was still on her arm, so she told me, "Relax, I'm just going to go get your present." As I let go of her arm, Rose announced, "By the way, I came in here to tell you that breakfast is ready." I stood up as well, but before Traci went back to retrieve the gift, I pulled her into a hug and apologized one more time. "I'm sorry. It was selfish of me to not tell you when my birthday was. I'll try to be more considerate to you in the future." Traci ended our embrace with a hard whack on my ass. "One down, fifteen more to go," she said to me with a grin. Traci's entrance was not the only thing that I had missed when I was watching 'Firefly'. Marge, Lori, and Pollyanna were already in the kitchen, and I had not even noticed them come down the stairs. It had taken considerable effort on my part to suppress my constant urge to be aware of my surroundings, but I had been able to do it. Perhaps I had begun to let my guard down too much; the feeling of security in the home was too alluring. I was no longer living in a house, but a home with family: Marge, Lori, Traci, and Rose. When Traci came into the kitchen, she handed me the gift and wished me, "Happy goddamned Birthday." There was a trace of humor in her voice, so I unwrapped her present to me. "Thanks, my love," I told her as she sat down next to me at the table. She had given me the first season of 'Angel' on DVD. As we began to take food off of the serving platters on the table, Traci asked Rose, "How did you find out today was his birthday?" "Oh, 'a little birdie told me'." When I let out a little snort of laughter, Rose added, "I guess the cat is out of the bag, so I might as well tell you." "Are you okay?" Traci asked me. I guessed the sound of me as I tried to restrain my laughter must have sounded like I was choking. When she spotted that there was nothing on my plate, she gave me a suspicious look before turning her attention back to Rose. Rose remained quiet and looked at me for permission. Her little puns were meant for me, but they had also led to her betraying my confidence. I was not much help when I just shrugged my shoulders. Guardedly, Rose said, "I saw somebody after they had given their present to Chad." Curiosity was one of my girlfriend's strong traits, and I had a feeling that it might have been better just to say who she had seen. However, I had left the ball in Rose's court and she had played it the best she saw fit. Instead of rallying it back to Rose, Traci opted to shift her attention to the other women around the table. "Slave gave her master his birthday present," Lori confessed, breaking down under the stare her sister had been giving her. "If you knew that today was his birthday, why didn't you tell me?" ask Traci. "Master did not want his birthday to be known, Master's Girlfriend." "Cut the crap, Lori; you're not Slave. Slave wouldn't be dressed and eating with us at the table; she'd be naked, on all fours, and eating her food out of a dish on the floor," Traci pointed out. Standing up, the girl that Traci had been addressing reached back and began to unzip her dress. Confused, I was not sure if it was Lori or Slave, but I knew one way to end it. "'Graffiti Bridge'," and Lori immediately sat back down. "While I might not have wanted my birthday to be known, it is and I would rather spend the day with my friends. Don't get me wrong, I like Slave, but I like Lori ten times more." "Nine point six," Lori corrected me. It seemed that the morning was revolving around inside references and I gave her a warm smile. Even perplexity over Lori's statement did not detour Traci when she pointed out, "Today's Chad's birthday, not Master's. Wouldn't his be the same as Slave's? Shaking her head, Lori explained, "Slave might have been born only recently, but Chad was born a master." I do not think Traci bought Lori's logic (even I thought it was a bit of a stretch), but she let the matter drop. Instead, she pondered aloud, "Am I the only one here who didn't know that it was my boyfriend's birthday?" "I thought it might be tomorrow, but it could just have been easily been today or yesterday," Marge said. Since I had asked for her to have the day off to chauffer me around, it had only been fair to tell her why. Actually, I had a few surprises left up my sleeve that I did not want to reveal to her. Pollyanna told Traci, "Hey, I didn't know at all. I would have thought my girlfriend would have given me some warning." Pollyanna then gave Rose an archly inquisitive look. "Master did not want his birthday to be known," parroted Rose. Scoffing, Pollyanna observed, "You're the maid, remember?" Shaking her head, she said, "I'm a slave as well, Master's Other Slave's Girlfriend." With that, she stood up and began to undo her blouse. I was ever so tempted to see how far she was going to carry out the charade, but I said, "'Graffiti Bridge'." When Rose pretended not to hear me, I realized that obviously the same warning/stop phrase would not work on her. Racking my mind, I tried to think of other Prince songs that it could be. She had reached her final button and had started to pull the blouse out of her pants when I cried, "'Peaches and Cream'." It was a far stretch, but it was one of the few titles I could recall that had a name of a flower. Grinning, Rose resumed her seat to everybody else's laughter. I do not know how much was due to her antics and how much was related to the panic in my voice when I shouted out the safety phrase. Like Lori, she did not do anything to recertify her current state of (un)dress. I made a concerted effort to keep my eyes above the neckline, but even then, I could not help but to notice she was sans bra. Turning to her girlfriend, she informed her, "Your gift for Chad is upstairs. I snuck it out with me last time I was at your house." Pollyanna gave her girlfriend a warm smile and they shared a brief kiss. It seemed that a nonverbal agreement was made that we should eat breakfast before it got any colder. After we finished eating and helped cleared the table, Rose announced, "I'm going to bake a birthday cake and then start making Valentine chocolates. You okay with angel food, Chad?" After I nodded my approval, Traci suggested, "I can give Michelle a call and see if she can come over." "Big surprise," observed her sister, "you wanting to use the phone." "Come on now," I chided. "She just wants to be the first to tell Michelle that it's my birthday." It actually looked like my girlfriend had not thought of that, because her eyes grew wide and she dashed to the kitchen phone. Everybody wisely stayed clear of her short path and she was talking to Michelle in less than ten seconds. Marge and Lori started washing the dishes while Pollyanna and Rose began preparations to bake the cake. Almost as soon as Traci hung up the phone, the doorbell rang. "Damn, that was fast. You call her on her cell phone?" I joked. Shaking her head, Traci joined me in investigating who was at the door. I was startled when I found out that it was Chuck, David, Mike, John and Fran at the door. It was just over ten hours since I had last seen them; our game had been cut short because of Bill having to work both his jobs today. When I had offered to let the rest of the guests to stay over, only Pollyanna had stayed -- it had been her turn to stay Saturday night with Rose. Everybody else claimed to be busy Sunday morning. "What's up?" I greeted them as they quickly came in from the pouring rain. As they began to remove their jackets, John answered, "Not much. We had some time to kill and thought we'd swing by." Glancing around at my friends' faces, I grew suspicious. I could sense they were hiding something, but when I shifted my focus back to John, he appeared as unreadable as ever. If something was up, they most likely chose him to be their spokesman since he could bluff so convincingly. However, even his defenses crumbled slightly when Rose stuck her head out of the kitchen to see what was going on. "Oh my," Mike uttered when he saw Rose. Everybody's attention turned to the redhead, and they saw that her blouse was unbuttoned. Blushing, Rose began to quickly button up her shirt, though I think she would have had less scrutiny if she would have turned around or retreated back into the kitchen. Fran must have thought that it was not something that Chuck should be watching, because she gave him a dope slap. Chuck begrudgingly turned his head away, but I could see him still watching out of the corners of his eyes. Once the little show was over, I invited my new guests into the living room. Fran went to the kitchen while everybody else settled down. There was an awkward silence, so I started to repeat my earlier question when Marge called out for me from the kitchen. Excusing myself, I got up only to find Traci falling in at my side. When I entered the kitchen, I found Fran standing next to Marge and Lori at the sink. "Chad," Marge said while she was washing a plate, "Fran wants to borrow my ski boots, but I can't remember where I put them. You seem good at recalling where we put the stuff; any idea where they could be? Closing my eyes, I pictured Marge's red ski boots. It took a few seconds for me to visualize where they had ended up. "They're in a box labeled 'Ski EQ' on the third shelf of the garage's storeroom. Should be near the golf clubs." Opening my eyes, I saw Marge nodding and shaking the water off her hands. "Thanks, Chad," she said to me as she reached for a towel. Stopping her, I said, "I'll get them for you." "No, it's okay, I can do it," Marge protested, but I had already started moving towards the garage door. "Thanks," Marge added as I left the kitchen. Since I had already pictured where the boots were, the hardest part of retrieving them was maneuvering around the boxes we had stacked up in there. The Caspars' stuff was divided into four different locations: the garage's storeroom, garage, attic, and at an offsite rental locker -- which mainly housed their large appliances. I was not too surprised that Marge had forgotten where her ski boots had ended up. When I left the storeroom with boots in hand, I found Marge waiting for me in the garage. When I handed the boots to her, she explained, "I was pretty much done with the dishes." Looking around the garage, she said, "I should really look into getting rid of some of this junk." I just shrugged at Marge's comment. I did not think any of their possessions were junk. Well, there was a lamp made out of a female mannequin's leg (with a stocking and high heel shoe), but even that was merely garish and not really junk. "You sure?" I asked. "Yeah, I am. When we first moved in, part of me thought it might be a mistake, but I feel comfortable now. I think I held onto most of this stuff as a security blanket, just in case it did not work out with us living with you. It's time that I bite the bullet and got rid of some of it." "I don't know," I said with a smile, "Traci might realize what a jerk I am and break up with me." Shaking her head, Marge said, "Even then, it will be two against one. You'll have to do something really stupid to lose me as an ally; even then, I bet you'll still have Lori's support." After pausing for a few seconds, she added, "Unless you are thinking about asking us to leave." I fervently shook my head, saying, "You and your family are welcome to stay here as long as I own the house. I did tell you that I will be selling the house in five years, but even then, I'll make sure to buy one large enough for the four of us." "Okay, that settles it. Depending on the weather, we'll try to have a garage sale next weekend. After all, I am sure you'll want to be able to park your new car in the garage." The garage was easily large enough to park two cars comfortably, but since we had converted it into storage space, only one car could fit. "Sounds good to me," I told her. Marge replied, "Oh, that reminds me, I talked to Dr. Hong for you." Blinking, I gave my head a little shake. Once again, I was mystified by female logic. How cleaning out the garage was linked to me getting a vasectomy, I could never understand. Glancing at the door that lead to the kitchen, I saw that it was closed, and even then I kept my voice low when I asked, "What did he say?" Smiling, Marge said, "He said it is a simple procedure, and he can even do it himself in the office. He was amused that I was asking for my daughter's boyfriend. Are you positive that this is something you want to do?" "If the pill was one-hundred-percent effective, then I might have some doubts, but since it is not, I think it's best. After all, if Lori or Traci got pregnant, it could possibly ruin their lives, even if they decided not to keep it." "What about me, perhaps I might want to have your baby?" It was not the first time Marge had joked around about having another kid, but it still surprised me. Seeing my expression, she chuckled and assured me, "Don't worry, I'm just teasing. I'm finally getting on my feet financially and can't afford to have one now. Just thinking about a couple of years from now; after all, my biological clock is ticking." The image of Marge breastfeeding her (our) child flashed in my mind, and I found the idea less troubling than if it was Traci. Marge had already proven that she was a wonderful mother and a planned pregnancy would be easier to deal with than an unplanned one. "Since the procedure is reversible, I think it is best that I go ahead and do it. It would be better off if I was firing blanks now and then switched to live ammo when the time comes," I explained. "Figures you have already thought it through. And really Chad, I was just kidding about getting pregnant now," Marge reassured me. After a few seconds' pause, she added, "I guess a quickie is out of the question." This time, it was my turn to chuckle. It was still a few more days until Marge was safely on the pill. I did check to see that the door was closed one last time before going up to her, placing my hands on her hips, and giving her a soulful kiss. There was a risk of us being discovered, so we kept it brief. Even though Marge had yet to put on any makeup, I found myself wiping away phantom lipstick from my mouth; the memory of walking school with Traci's kiss marks was still fresh in my mind. When we reentered the kitchen, Fran was the only one there. Thanking Marge, she took the boots and headed to the living room. Following in her footsteps, I was greeted with a loud "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHAD" from everybody when I entered the room. I was startled, to say the least. Everyone had grins on their faces, including Fran and Marge. It was at that point that I realized the ski boots were a ruse; Fran's feet were larger than Marge's. Marge most likely knew exactly where the boots were located and figured that I would volunteer to fetch them. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She had even joined me in the garage to keep me occupied while everybody else set up. I focused in on Chuck; he appeared to have the largest grin. Then again, perhaps it was the contrast between his white teeth and dark skin. "How did you guys find out it was my birthday?" "John found out for us," Chuck replied, pointing at his friend. Unlike when he entered the house, John's emotions were clearly visible on his face. "I saw it on your ID card when you loaned me five dollars last December." It took a few seconds for John's words to sink in and for me to recall what he was talking about. It happened at school during the break between second and third periods, when John had approached me to borrow some cash for the snack bar. At the time, my hands just happened to be in Traci's front pockets; she was standing with her back pressed against my front and her arms wrapped around mine, keeping us warm. When I had tried to remove my hand to get to my wallet, Traci had playfully tightened her grip and had prevented me from accomplishing my task. The task then fell upon John to fish out my wallet from my back pocket and retrieve the money himself, which is when he must have seen my identification card. I nodded my head in understanding after I had figured out what he was talking about. "Are those for me?" I asked when I spotted two creatively wrapped parcels on the coffee table. The first stood about two feet high and the black plastic garbage bag that enclosed it was billowed out -- making it difficult to ascertain what might be inside. The second was smaller, but it too was inside a brown paper grocery bag and it was unclear what it might be. I think I surprised a few in the room when I declined to open them immediately, saying, "If it's alright with everybody else, let's wait until Michelle arrives." No sooner were the words out of my mouth than my girlfriend was going over to the telephone. Marge spotted her youngest daughter's reaction and went over to her to give her a few choice words. While I could not overhear the conversation, the pout that Traci gave her mother was quite clear. I went around and thanked my friends individually for coming. Once Jean and Michelle arrived, I sat on the couch while everybody else gathered around to watch me open my gifts. During the interval while waiting for the Wellers to arrive, Marge and Lori had retrieved their presents for me, as well. Deciding to open their presents first, since I had a strong suspicion of what they were, I was not disappointed when I received the remaining seasons of Angel. With those out of the way, I turned my attention to the two gifts that my remaining friends had brought over. "You might want to open the bigger one first," suggested Mike. Following his recommendation, I stood up to untie the garbage bag. I peered in and recognized the gift instantly. Quickly removing it from the primitive wrapping, I slumped back down onto the couch flabbergasted. I was deeply moved that my friends had gone to such lengths to procure such a fantastic gift. "What the heck is it?" asked Traci. "I know. My dad has one of them. It's a bong," Pollyanna answered. "No," I corrected her. "It is a hookah." It did not surprise me that Geoffrey had kept his hookah, even after he had quit using drugs. Some of them could be quite elaborate, and their primary purpose was not for illicit substances. The hookah that my friends had given me was of a basic design, and the only drug I was ever going to use it for was nicotine. However, as it was, it was just a decorative item without some additional equipment, so I turned my attention to the remaining gift. The carefulness in which I had unwrapped my previous presents was missing when I tore into the brown paper bag. Inside was a hard case that contained an assortment of flavored shisha (honey, molasses, apple, strawberry, and cola), a package of tin foils, tongs, two different types of charcoal, and a few replacement items for the hookah. "Thank you," I professed gleefully and I turned to kiss the nearest person. Unfortunately for him, it was Chuck, and he quickly brought up his hands to push me away. "Dude! Mike was the one who got it," he proclaimed, pointing at him. Everybody was laughing, but when the direction of my affections turned to Mike and I started to stand up, he stopped, took a step back, and pointed back at Chuck, saying, "Yeah, but it was his idea." Turning back to Chuck, he quickly told me, "No, no, no. Fran was the one who suggested it to me." I decided to drop my antics at that point. Despite the progress that Traci had made overcoming her jealously towards the blonde Amazon, I knew that I would be pushing it to the limit if I tried to kiss Fran, even in jest. Besides, my girlfriend was not the only one in the room who could be hurt if I attempted such a maneuver. Once the laughter had died down, I gave Traci my best pleading look. A bemused smirk crossed her pretty little lips and I think she sensed the power she had over me. As enjoyable as smoking was to me, her wellbeing was more important, and I would leave it untouched if so told. I think her curiosity worked in my favor as she gave me a small nod. The exchange between us did not go unnoticed as a few others in the room began to chuckle. "How did you get a hold of it?" I asked Mike as I began to set it up. "Paul has a friend that he went to school with who works at 'The Hole in the Sky' and he put me in touch with him. We can use him to get you more stuff later," he explained. Paul was Mike's older brother who had gone off to University. Mike had mentioned that he had come home to visit during the Winter break. At the time, I did not know what type of store 'The Hole in the Sky' was, but I later found out it was a 'head shop' -- a store that sold items mainly revolving around cannabis. After moistening the inside of the ceramic bowl and wetting the tip of the hose with my saliva, I replaced them on/in the hookah. Using the palm of my hand, I covered the top of the bowl and sucked on the hose, making sure I had a good seal. While I was taking care of that, Marge had gone to the kitchen and brought back a pitcher of cold water. After filling the chamber with the right amount of water, I had a couple of choices to make: which charcoal and shisha. The two different types of charcoal that I had received were quick-lighting and Japanese. While the Japanese charcoal took longer to light, it burned longer and cleaner. Practicality won out over impatience, and I picked up a brick of the Japanese type. After breaking off two squares, I grabbed the tongs and began to stand up, only to have Marge stop me. She took the charcoal and tongs with her when she returned to the kitchen with the water pitcher. With the knowledge that the charcoal was taken care of, I had to pick a shisha quickly. I opted for strawberry and opened up the box that held it. A few people chuckled when I used my teeth to tear into the bag that enclosed the flavored tobacco. I ended up taking a hefty pinch and loosely packed the bowl with the sweet-smelling substance. Unfortunately, in my haste to get the shisha out, I had forgotten to open the package of foils, so I did not have anything to wipe off my sticky fingers. Chuck spotted my dilemma and opened the package for me. I thanked him when he handed me one of the square foil sheets. After covering the shisha with the foil and once again making sure I had a good seal, I began to poke holes in the foil using a needle that they had been kind enough to include in the case. I had finished poking enough holes in it by the time Marge returned with the hot charcoal. Instead of trying to hand me the tongs that held the charcoal, she went ahead and deposited it on top of the foil for me. Unlike a cigarette, whose effect was instantaneous upon being lit, the shisha needed some time to heat up. It took a few puffs on the hose until I was drawing thick smoke, and once I did, I took in a large lungful and held it. Closing my eyes, I could almost visualize the process of the nicotine working its way into my bloodstream; after about ten seconds, I slowly let it billow out through my nostrils and slumped back, relaxed and with what must have appeared to be a silly smile on my face. "Jesus, I think he just creamed his pants!" observed Chuck. I opened my eyes and saw him scooting away. Everybody was laughing and I joined in. While smoking was not enjoyable as sex, it ranked pretty high up there. I brought the hose up to my mouth and took in another drag, savoring the delightful taste of the blissful smoke. "Well, at least it does not smell as bad as cigarettes," Traci commented. Her tune changed slightly after a few minutes when the room started to fill with the thick smoke. "I think we'll keep the rule about you smoking outside." Rose went over and opened the sliding glass door before going to do the same to the front. The cross draft soon did a good job of taking care of the excess smoke and that seemed to appease Traci. My friends began to talk among one another while I continued to smoke. I did join in the conversations occasionally, but I think they knew my focus was on the experience of the hookah. I did overhear Rose talking to Michelle and Fran about making Valentine chocolates, which seemed to surprise David. "You're making chocolates, Rose?" he asked in some disbelief. Rose frowned slightly and replied, "Sure, why not?" Shrugging, David said, "I just thought Pollyanna would be the one giving you chocolates tomorrow, and you'd be returning the favor next month on White Day." "And why, pray tell, did you think that?" I recognized the edge in Rose's voice and despite the smile on her face; I could feel the heat from the fire in her eyes. They were warning signs that said to tread carefully. Apparently, David must have been tone deaf and blind, because the next words out of his mouth were, "I just figured you were the guy in the relationship." BOOM! David stepped on a landmine and I winced. Since my right hand held the hose, I ended up using my left hand to cover my mouth to hide my grin and suppress my laughter. "Dave, I'll try to use small words so that you can understand. Me, woman. You, baka. Do I need to take down my pants to prove to you that I don't have a penis?" Rose waited long enough for David, who had started to turn red with embarrassment, to shake his head before continuing her lecture. "There is no guy in the relationship between Polly and me. And just so that you know, the reason why I am making chocolates and Polly is reciprocating during White Day, is so that I could also make friendship chocolates for you guys -- though, I think the one I'll make for you will be the size to a peanut, to match the size of your brain." At that point, I could not help but laugh out loud. I was not the only one, and everybody seemed to be amused, save David. Even Rose seemed to be holding back the urge to smile, but kept up a stony façade. That quickly crumbled when Pollyanna observed, "What about Mr. Felix?" It was Rose's turn to turn crimson, and I was in the majority in the room who did not get that comment. Traci and Michelle must have understood because they started to laugh even harder. When the laughter finally died down, Traci asked, "How long does it take for you to smoke that?" I shrugged and answered, "About an hour." Surprised by my answer, Traci blinked a few times. When she recovered, she announced, "That counts as five cigarettes." She even held up her fingers to emphasize her point. Apparently, she had taken a page out of Rose's book of negotiating in front of others. I was about to counter, bringing up just exactly how I earned the cigarettes when David made a whip-cracking sound. "Man, you are whipped. I would never allow my girlfriend to talk to me that way." I guessed he figured that he would shift attention from himself to my predicament, but Rose was not letting him out of her crosshairs just yet. "Yeah, you're lucky that your right hand does not give you any lip, otherwise, it would constantly be saying, 'Please, I don't want to wrestle that small worm again! It keeps spitting on me.'" ------- Since Rose was busy with the cake and making chocolates, we ended up ordering pizza for the impromptu birthday party. Rose did take time to make a large carb-friendly salad for Chuck, and Fran helped him out by scraping the toppings off a couple of slices of pizza onto his plate, before she ate the crusts. After we ate, I saw Jean slip into the backyard, so I grabbed my jacket and joined her. "Hey, Chad, came out to keep an old lady company?" Jean greeted me. I rolled my eyes at her remark about age. She and Marge seemed to be preoccupied with being 'old'. Never mind they were both still in their thirties and had very lovely figures, they kept harping that they were unattractive. My reassurances to them that they were not seemed to do little to change their outlook. "I have your birthday present, but it might be moot now that you have your hookah," Jean said, opening up her large purse. I stepped closer and looked in to see eight packs of Camel Wides. Despite having already smoked a bowl of shisha, I felt myself salivating at the wonderful sight. Chuckling at my reaction, she went on to explain, "I only found out today that it was your birthday when Traci called Michelle. I swung by the gas station and bought them for you so I did not have a chance to wrap them up. You know that I promised Traci that I wouldn't buy them for you, but if I just happened to turn my head and left my purse open..." I did not even wait for Jean to fully turn her head when I dove into the purse. Stuffing the visible packs of cigarettes into my jacket pockets, I began to rummage around for any that I might have missed. Jean turned back and pulled the purse away, raising a finger and admonished me with a grin. "There are only eight packs, ten cigarettes for each year." Since I was so close to her, it was easy to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you. I'll make sure that Traci does not find out where I got them. Wild horses wouldn't drag the secret from me." "Just make sure you earn them properly," Jean replied, still grinning. She was one of the few outside of the household who knew the method that I 'earned' my cigarettes. I nodded, and we spent the rest of the time while she smoked her cigarette discussing our upcoming trip to Japan. ------- As much as I had dreaded the knowledge of my birthday being known by my friends, I was somewhat saddened to see it end. Traci and I had retired for the evening, and I had just given a blow-by-blow account of Slave's gift to me that morning. Traci mimicked Slave's movements, and true to form, I had to stop her from trying to deepthroat me. She made up for it with her enthusiasm, using her mouth and fist in a frantic matter. Perhaps Slave had been more cautious about it, not wanting to disturb Traci's slumber, but there was nothing holding Traci back as she sucked my cock with gusto. After I had deposited my load into her mouth, she hungrily swallowed my cum and afterwards, crawled up to lie beside me. It was at that point that Traci gave me the final gift of the evening. "I think I am ready to allow you to be with Mom and Lori without me being there." "Are you sure, Hon?" I asked. "Yeah, I am, but I want you to promise me that you will tell me in detail everything that happens. That way, I can do what we just did." I did not think it was possible for Traci to copy anal sex, an activity that Marge and I had been limited to. When the time came, I am sure that Traci would find an alternative way around it, just like with the deepthoating. I wanted to be clear on the issue and asked, "What about Slave?" "Slave is a special case. I want to be there when you try out new stuff on her. God, that was awesome when you and Mom DP'ed her." It was at that point that Traci's hand began to creep down towards her sex, the memory seemingly making her horny. Her hand stopped when I asked my next question. "How the heck do you know about double-penetration?" I asked. Unless I had slept through it, I was quite sure it was not a subject broached during Health class. "What, you think Mom and Lori are the only ones to read those dirty stories on the Internet?" "I guess I did," I confessed. "I don't read them all the time, but I have a few that I like to read. That's how I know I am a voyeur; I like stories about watching people having sex. Oh, and you can't have sex with anybody else without my approval, and not without me there." I was floored by her last statement and it took me a few seconds to recover. "Who else do you see me with?" I asked. "Well, I did give you permission to have sex with Erin already, though only as part of Slave's training." I found myself rolling my eyes, but Traci did not seem to notice. "I was thinking maybe Rose?" "No," I vehemently replied. Traci recoiled slightly, and I realized how loud my protest had been. I brought it down a few notches and explained, "Let's exclude the fact that she is gay and already in a relationship. I still think that idea is bad: she already feels beholden to me for allowing her to stay here, and I could not help but think that she would see sex with me as some way for her to pay me back." "You positive? She might want to 'beholden' this..." she said, reaching down and caressing my now-flaccid cock. I smiled at her pun, but nodded. "Darling, I am perfectly happy as things are right now. I can only think bringing other people into our relationship would make things worse, not better. As for Erin, I was not really serious when I mentioned fucking her. Those words were mainly to provoke a reaction from Slave." "I would think that most guys would jump at the chance of bringing women into their harem." "First, I doubt three women constitutes as a harem. Second, even with a saintly, beautiful, forgiving girlfriend, jealously would be a huge hurdle to overcome. Third, well, there is no third for now, but I'm sure I'll come up with something later." "Okay," Traci replied doubtfully. I felt she was still thinking about the matter and decided to change topics. Part of me felt guilty that she was one of the last to find out that it was my birthday, so I felt that she should be the first to know one of my other secrets. Even Marge, who was driving me to the car dealership the next morning, did not know the type of car. "Tomorrow, after I pass my driving test, I am going to pick up a Scion xB that I bought." Traci's cute little nose wrinkled while she tried to recall what type of car that was, and she gave me a look of surprise when she did. "The one that looks like a shoebox?!?" A shoebox did not come to mind when I first saw it. Instead, it reminded me of the cars that I had seen in manga and anime. Being the admirer of all things Japanese, I figured that it was perfect choice for me. "I guess that is one way of looking at it," I said. "Wait, you already bought it?" she asked. "Yup. I was able to take care of most of it over the phone. There is a backorder on them, so I took care of it a few months ago. I even wired them the money, so all that I have to do tomorrow is bring in my license and my emancipation papers, showing that I can legally sign a contract." "But what if you don't pass?" I had not honestly considered that. It was very unlikely that I would fail a driving test with my previous training. It was almost as unlikely as me finding a girlfriend who was not only willing to share me with her mother and sister, but even was considering 'pimping' me out to her friends. Perhaps I had better study the driving manual after all. "Even if I should fail, I could still buy the car and have it put in Marge's name." Perhaps revealing my purchase just before going to bed was not the wisest move, because it seemed to make Traci wide-awake. I solved that problem with my tongue -- and earned two-fifths of a bowl of shisha in the process. After she was sated, we were spooning each other and began to drift off to sleep. There was something that was nagging me, so I just had to ask. "Love, who is Mr. Felix?" Giggling, she replied, "Oh, that is the name of Rose's strap-on." ------- Chapter 35 "Life is like a box of fermented, roasted, and ground seeds of the tropical tree, Theobroma cacao." -F. Gump Despite Traci's worries, I passed my driving test with flying colors. The Toyota dealership was not far from the Department of Motor Vehicles, so I was able to drive the Scion xB off the lot within an hour of receiving my driver's license. I had originally planned on going to the beach afterwards and strolling hand-in-hand with Marge, but the weather was not cooperating: the rain from the previous day had passed, but there was the occasional sprinkle along with a cold wind. Thus, we instead ate a light, early lunch at a restaurant that was a part of a hotel. It was perched along the shore on a cliff, so we were able to enjoy some pleasant scenery while we ate. Since it was Valentine's Day, there were many couples dining, and even though Marge was a little self-conscious about what our apparent date meant, we had a pleasant meal. When we arrived home, I asked Marge if she would take a shower and then return to the living room. She hesitated for a few seconds before agreeing. Most likely, she thought I had some nefarious deed in mind and was not comfortable doing something behind her youngest daughter's back. The conversation that Traci and I had the previous evening had not been conveyed to Marge and Lori yet, though it did not matter. Sexual intercourse was not on the afternoon's menu. When Marge came down the stairs, she was stark naked, which suited my needs perfectly. I had already covered the coffee table with bath towels and after I had instructed her to lie down on her front, I covered her lower back and sexy buttocks with another towel. Using the remote control, I turned on the CD player and started playing an Enya CD that I had found in the Caspars' collection. Squirting some scented oil into my hands and warming it first, I began to give Marge a sensual massage. Marge let out a few appreciative groans when I worked out some of the knots that I found in her shoulders and back. Despite my intentions of keeping it sensual and not too erotic, it did cause a reaction in me, specifically my loins. Marge seemed to pick up on that as well -- most likely from the difficulty I had when I needed to stand and move around her -- because she told me, "I think you are wearing too many clothes." Having started to work up a sweat from my exertions, I nodded and began to undress. Fortunately, I had been wearing khakis, so I had worn underwear as well. I kept the pair of briefs on, and while I did create a pup tent, it was less painful than when I was wearing pants. Marge let out a throaty chuckle when she saw the condition I was in, and gave me one of her daughter's pouts when it became apparent that they were remaining on. Her amusement slowly faded as I renewed my massage. The CD ended right around the time I was finishing up with the back of Marge's body, and the CD changer loaded up the second Enya CD. Marge was so relaxed that I think she was on the verge of sleep. I had to repeat myself when I asked her to turn onto her back, and when she did; I began to massage her face. She had her eyes closed and I could not overcome the temptation the sight instilled in me, so I leaned forward and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. The kiss was brief, yet passionate, and I resumed the massage. Since there were not any knots to work out in the front of Marge's body, I finished the massage before the second CD ended -- though I did find myself preoccupied making sure that her breasts were well taken care off. I helped Marge off of the table, and taking her hand, I led her back to the master bathroom. Since I had acquired a lot of oil myself during the process of the massage, I joined her in the shower, and we took turns washing each other. I did have to playfully slap her hand away from trying to revive my slowly fading erection a few times, since I wanted to keep the afternoon chaste, despite Traci's permission from the previous evening. When we finished washing each other, I turned the knob that controlled the shower and began to draw a bath. Stepping out of the tub, I retrieved the bottle of bubble bath and added a couple of capfuls to the running water. As Marge sat down in the tub, I left the bathroom, only to return a short while later with a chilled bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. After pouring her and myself a glass, I handed her hers and pulled up a stool so I could sit next to her. We clinked our glasses together and took a sip of the sweet nectar. "Thanks for a memorable Valentine's Day," Marge said. "Actually," I confessed with a soft smile, "I'd forgotten it was going to be Valentine's Day when I planned all this. I just knew it was going to be an opportunity for me to show you how much I care about you. I just wish there were more occasions for me to show you how truly special you are." Marge turned her head away for a few seconds, and when she turned back, she seemed to be blinking back some tears. "I love you, too," she told me in a slightly choked up voice. I contemplated Marge's reply. Was it love that I felt for Marge? Traci was the only person that I had ever fallen in love with -- the only person I'd ever loved, in any sense, so far -- I measured that emotion by how I felt for her. She and I cared deeply for one another and accepted our flaws and weaknesses, as well as our assets and strengths. It was hard for me to accept a future without Traci in it, but the same could be said for Marge and Lori. I could easily see sacrificing myself if it meant saving any of the three, but if forced to choose only one, Traci seemed the one that I would pick. Was it fair to use the word 'love' to describe the feelings I had for Marge and Lori, when I seemed to love Traci more? Perhaps because it was February fourteenth, I decided that I could risk it. After drinking a large swallow of wine, I took a deep breath and said, "Marge, I love you." I paused to collect myself before continuing, but Marge switched hands on her wine glass and reached out and took a hold of my arm and stopped me. Giving me a knowing smile, she said, "Chad, I think I understand what you are going through. Even though I knew it was wrong, I fell deeply in love with Melody. When I met John and began to develop feelings for him, I felt as if I was betraying Mel. It was risky, but I told him about me and my sister and how I didn't think I could ever fully love him. I thought he was going to end it right then and there -- or worse, go to the police and tell them about it -- but he surprised me and accepted it. Not only that, but he and Mel also developed a love for one another. When Mel left, part of me felt guilty, because it felt as if a part of my heart was taken away; but John felt the same way. You know that I told the kids that she fell in love with Ronald and that's the reason why she left, but that was not really the case. I think she knew in her heart of hearts that if the truth ever got out about the three of us, it could tear my family apart." Marge began to chuckle, and after a few seconds, explained. "I just got to thinking that at least someone already knew about us, back then. John's parents, bless their souls, had a strong suspicion about the reason why Mel was living with us. One Thanksgiving -- oh, it must have been the first one after Traci had been born -- they flew out to have it with us. At the dinner table, John's dad asked, 'When are you going to give me a grandson?' The thing is, he was looking directly at Melody at the time. I swear to God, John practically choked on the stuffing he was eating, but without missing a beat, Mel replied, 'Marge takes care of the birthing.' They would drop other hints, like calling her their 'other daughter-in-law' and such, but I don't think they ever knew just how close Mel and I were... or if they did, they didn't let on." "Anyway, to make a long story short, I think being in love with more than one person is possible, and just because you love one person more does not mean that you love another less. Does that make sense?" "Yeah, I think so." "Good, 'cause I don't want to soak in here too long and get all pruny. Bad enough that I have winkles as it is." Any wrinkles she had were figments of her imagination, but I knew it was pointless to argue that with her. Instead, I took her hand off of my arm and kissed the back of it. ------- After Marge's bath, she donned my bathrobe and I put on my yukata, and we went out into the living room. The hookah and case had been left on the coffee table from the previous day; having only set them aside when I prepared up for Marge's massage. After clearing a space, I replaced the hookah and began to prepare for a smoke. Since the strawberry shisha was already open, I opted for that flavor. "Two and a half?" I asked, pinching out about half the amount I had on my birthday. Grinning, Marge shook her head and replied, "Two," as she joined me on the couch. There was no way I was going to argue that. As I began to loosely pack the shisha into the bowl, Marge asked, "How do you have half an orgasm? Do you take one and divide it in half?" "Well, yes, I could do that, but there are occasions when I think Traci has had an orgasm, but I am not quite sure, so I count it as a half. It's not like I can just stop and ask, 'Did you come, did you come?' If I left it up to Traci to tell me, she would claim to be frigid." "So, you can only earn cigarettes with Traci?" Marge asked before letting out a small squeal and pushing me away. My fingers were sticky from handling the shisha, and I had started to reach for her to wipe them on her face. Again, she mimicked her daughter when she stuck her tongue out at me as I got up to retrieve some tissue paper from a dispenser that was on a nearby table. "Yes, that is how it started, but we had fun 'renegotiating' the terms when I started having sex with you and Lori/Slave, so I now get to count orgasms with you two... I mean three," I explained. When I sat down next to her, she grabbed my left hand, guided it under her robe to her right breast, and groaned five times in rapid succession. "There, now you can smoke a whole bowl," she proclaimed before bursting into a fit of giggles. I caught myself caressing her nipple with my thumb and reluctantly pulled away. "Actually, those can't count. One of the conditions is that she be present for it to count." "Well, she always has to be present anyway, right?" Marge asked. Instead of answering, I remained silent and began finishing up the preparations for the hookah. I had covered the top with foil and was poking holes in it when she asked again. "Right?" "Yes, that was the case, up until yesterday," I answered. Marge wanted to know more details, so I explained Traci's birthday gift as I finished setting up. I had to retrieve my Zippo from my pants to light one of the quick-lighting charcoals, and after I did, I had to set the coal in the tray that was under the bowl as it ignited. Because of the sparks that it was giving off, I placed my right hand over it to prevent any from landing on the towels or carpet. After fifteen seconds, it had stopped shooting off sparks, so using the tongs, I picked it up. I blew on the round disc a few times and watched it glow red; a few sparks shot off, but not as many as when it ignited. Placing the charcoal on top of the foil, I began to take drags off the hose until I was drawing some good smoke. Finishing my tale as I began smoking, Marge seemed a tad surprised and asked, "You mean we could have been getting our freak on, and we haven't?" It was then that I realized that I would much prefer to be surprised while drinking something instead of mid-drag. After a fit of coughs and my clearing some tears from my eyes, I replied, "'Freak on'?!?" Marge had been concerned when I had choked on the smoke, but a grin erupted across her face when she saw that I was okay. "You know, the nasty, the wild thing, some humpin' and grindin'." In mock disbelief, I replied, "Jeeze, is that all I am to you Caspar women? A convenient fuck? A flesh dildo? What is wrong with me spending some quality time with a woman that I love without it degrading to sex?" Giving me a soft smile, Marge leaned into me and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. When she broke the kiss, she snuggled up beside me and said, "No, there's nothing wrong with that. Just, wouldn't it be more fun if I took your hard cock into my mouth and blew you while you smoked?" Marge's words were accented by her right hand, which had found its way to my thigh. She had begun to lazily trace her fingers along my leg and was working her way closer to my groin. Since my right arm had wrapped around her shoulders when she snuggled up to me, and since my left held the hose, I was trapped. I ended up using my teeth to hold the mouthpiece of the pipe so I could lightly swat away her hand. Marge surprised me again when she reached up and took the tube away from me. Not even hesitating to wipe off my saliva, she brought it to her lips and took a drag. It was after the second one that she handed it back to me and announced, "Mmm, that was nice." My astonishment must have shown, because Marge chuckled when she looked up at me. "I used to smoke in high school and college," Marge explained. "Did you know that there was an actual section on my high school campus where students could go and smoke? That's probably what killed off the dinosaurs, all of our second-hand smoke. Anyway, Mel and John didn't smoke, and they would always make me go outside, so I kinda know what you are going through." "How'd you quit?" I asked. "Easy, I got pregnant with Lori. As soon as I found that I was pregnant, I quit. I did start back up afterwards, but then Traci came along, so I had to quit again." Guilt started to wash over me with the realization that I had caused Marge to start smoking again. Seemingly sensing my feelings, Marge chuckled and said, "I guess I should say I quit buying them. Oh, I did go for a period of seven years when I didn't have any, but the stress of John getting ill started me back up. Then, when I started at the hospital, I found myself joining the other nurses going outside for smoke breaks. I would just bum from them, though I did get lucky last November when I found half a pack of smokes in the couch." I was overcome with a sense of relief, though I was not sure if it was from the knowledge that I had not started Marge smoking again or that I finally knew what had happen to that pack. When I had lost it, I was sure it had fallen out at the Caspar's house, but when I confronted Traci, she told me she had not seen them. Part of me had doubted her, and it took me a few days to realize that, if she had found them, she would have thrown them out, then told me what she had done. Now the guilt that I had felt towards Marge began to shift to her youngest daughter, and I told myself that I would make it up to Traci the first chance I got. Marge and I alternated taking a couple of drags off the hookah for a few times before she finally declined. Her relaxed body began to pull her off into slumberland, and it was not long before she fell asleep. The tiredness from giving the massage combined with the hot shower began to take its toll on my body, too, and I found myself joining her five minutes later. ------- "Aww, ain't they cute?" "Shh, you'll wake them." Actually, I was already awake; the sound of them entering the house had roused me. I was pretty sure Marge was still out, but my feigning sleep made it difficult to be sure. "I should go get a camera and take a picture of the two of them." "Don't. You know that Chad hates having his picture taken." It was not so much that I hated having my picture taken, as it was me subconsciously avoiding being captured in the frame. Like with some of the other aspects of life which had impinged upon my training, I had been slow to adjust. I made a mental note to try to be more camera-friendly in the future. "What are you doing?" "Ah, come on. I haven't seen him when he hasn't been hard." I successfully fought the urge to chuckle at that comment. While I was not fully erect, Marge's words before we fell asleep had had an effect on me, and I was still slightly engorged. Tempted to pretend to stir in my sleep, I decided to remain motionless, lest I scare off the curious girl. I let a few seconds pass when I felt the yukata being pulled back and my cock exposed to the air before I flexed my muscle of love. "EEEEEEK!" Rose screamed loudly. I opened my eyes and saw her taking a step back and knocking against the coffee table. The hookah rocked back and forth slightly, but stayed upright. Marge, who had been sound asleep, bolted straight up and looked around in alarm. Even Lori, who had been trying to dissuade Rose, seemed startled at the redhead's reaction. It was one of the few occasions when it was difficult to tell where Rose's crimson face ended and her locks began. Her embarrassment quickly faded to mild anger when she noticed the evil grin plastered across my face. "Damnit, how long were you awake?" "Before you commented on how cute we were, right about when you two entered the house," I answered. Realizing that Rose's gaze was shifted below my eye line, I wondered for a second if she had been addressing me or the part of my body she had uncovered. I pulled the yukata back over my cock to prevent any more distractions. My act of decency seemed to break the trance that Rose had been in, because she closed her eyes and gave her head a quick shake. Marge's panic at being jolted awake changed to amusement, and she began to chuckle. Lori, who was behind Rose and out of her field of vision, gave me an apologetic smile, most likely caused from not being able to stop Rose. After she had stopped chuckling, Marge let out a long yawn and stretched her arms out. "I guess I'm awake now," Marge observed. She then had to add, "I'm just teasing you," when Rose began to apologize. After Marge got to her feet, she reached down, picked up the hookah and headed off to the kitchen, most likely to empty the water and clean it. The battle between being embarrassed over getting caught peeking at me versus being angry at the trick I had pulled was shown on Rose's face. Lori seemed to quell the skirmish by asking me, "Is that your car in the driveway?" I nodded and Rose said, "I guess it is bigger than a shoebox." Giving her a puzzled look, she explained, "Traci told us at lunch that you were getting a car, but wouldn't say what it was, just that it was 'bigger than a shoebox'. She didn't say that it was shaped like one, too." The Scion xB was indeed boxy-shaped, but I found that trait appealing. There was plenty of room for my four housemates and myself, and it had plenty of head and leg room. The environmentalist in me said to buy a hybrid or a hydrogen fuel-cell vehicle, but aesthetics had won out. "What did you and Mom do today?" Lori asked. While I was giving them a brief outline of the events of the day, I noticed a brief look of envy on Lori's face when I mentioned the massage. It had only lasted for the briefest of moments and she was quick to mask it with a smile, but when I finished my oration, I asked her, "Would you like a massage?" "Oh no, that's okay," Lori quickly assured me. "You sure? It wouldn't be any trouble, since I already have all the stuff out," I explained to her. Lori hesitated for a few seconds before agreeing to the massage. As she began to remove her clothes, Rose excused herself, saying that she was going to go and start on some chores. Since I did not have any of Lori's CDs prepared in the CD player, I ended up using Enya again to set the mood. As with Marge, when Lori lay down on the table, I used a towel to cover part of her lower body. After warming the oil in my hands first, I began to massage Lori's back. Perhaps it was because she had not taken a shower beforehand, but Lori seemed very tense. It seemed to take a while for her to fully relax and enjoy the sensual massage. While I was working on her shoulders, Lori gave an appreciative groan and said, "God, I miss this. We used to do this on the squad." "What? Get naked and rub each other with oil," I joked. "You wish!" After a moment's pause, she giggled and corrected herself, "I wish! Anyways, sometimes after practice, we used to sit in a circle and give the person in front of us a backrub." "Cool," I commented as I started to work on a knot on her shoulder blade. One thing that I noticed, as my thumb dug deep into the knot, was the lack of reaction from Lori. She remained quiet, whereas Marge had shifted or moaned at the discomfort. I was a tad worried that she had somehow conditioned herself to suppress expressing herself when she was in pain. The next time that I did a scene with Slave that involved pain, I was going to have to monitor it carefully. Despite the fact that I usually disliked repeating the same pattern, I found myself once again giving into the temptation to give the young woman whose face I was massaging a kiss. The soft kiss resulted in an equally soft smile from Lori. Her eyes remained closed until I whispered, "I love you." While the look of surprise might have been amusing, I did not chuckle. Instead, I focused on trying to convey the feeling that I had just expressed with my eyes and smile. As her eyes began to moisten, she tried to say something but found herself unable to. After a couple of attempts, she mouthed, "Thank you." When a tear escaped from her left eye, I leaned down and kissed it away from the side of her head. I soon realized my mistake when the salty taste of her teardrop was augmented by the massage oil. It must have been a comical sight, me with my eyes closed and scraping my tongue against my front teeth; because Lori began to giggle. It took us about a minute to recover and renew the massage. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed that Rose was finding excuses to be in or passing through the living room as Lori's massage drew to a close. Rose watched with an amused look when Lori started to give me a hug after we had finished, only stopping herself when she realized that she was covered with oil. Instead, she gave me a quick kiss on lips and then went upstairs. "You want one too?" I asked. When I received a grin as a reply, I added, "Okay, then. I'm almost out of oil, so could you go and get some of your patchouli oil while I'll make up a batch?" Arching an eyebrow, Rose said, "Gee, Dave, just because I'm a dyke, you assume I must have patchouli oil?" I shook my head and explained, "Not at all. I just happen to have a good nose and remember some occasions where you were wearing some." What I did not add was that part of the training that the CYA conducted was to recognize and identify different odors. While I was not as proficient as some (they could tell the difference between genuine exotic perfumes and their knock-off counterparts), I knew my friend had worn an assortment of patchouli oils in the past. Instead of denying it, Rose grinned and said, "You're no fun. When I bust Dave's chops, he gets all flustered." I grinned back and asked, "How did he like his chocolate?" Rose had not followed through on her threat to make Dave's chocolate the size of a peanut. Instead, she had made him one the same size as the others she had made for the otakus. One thing that she had done differently, however, was that, instead of writing his name in white chocolate like she had done for the others, she wrote baka in katakana. "Oh, he was so happy when I gave it to him. He even made a point of unwrapping and eating it in front of me." Rose began to chuckle at a memory and explained, "John started to laugh when he saw what was written on Dave's chocolate, and when Dave asked him what it meant, John told him it said 'chauvinistic pig'." I began to chuckle as well. When Rose went up to her room, I went into the kitchen and got out the bottle of canola oil. There was an empty squeeze bottle in the dish rack, so I decided to use that for my impromptu massage-oil container. While most people would have been inclined to throw away the disposable mustard bottle, Rose insisted on reusing it. We already had a cupboard full of such 'disposable' items, but I did not mind it one bit. I did think that our views on the matter were different; mine being environmental, whereas hers were fiscally driven. I had already poured the oil into the bottle when Rose found me in the kitchen. I passed on the opportunity of making a pun when I saw that the patchouli was labeled 'Rose Scented' and instead added a few drops into the bottle. Covering the top with my thumb, I shook the bottle to blend the two together and had Rose take a whiff once they were blended. When she agreed to the scent, I screwed on the top and the two of us went back into the living room. Rose began to lift up her tee shirt, only to stop when she noticed me watching her. Raising her finger into the air, she made a small circle in the air. I followed her nonverbal instructions and turned around, making a complete three-sixty. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Turn around." "I just did." Giving me a loud sigh, she said, "Close your eyes and turn so that your back is facing me. I don't want you to see me naked." "What?" I replied with mock indignation. "How come it's fine for you to see me repeatedly, but I can't see you?" "Because I don't have a photographic memory like you do. You just have to see me once, and you'll remember it for the rest of your life." It was my turn to roll my eyes. While I might have a photographic memory, I did not instantly recall everything that I had seen. I usually had to concentrate to commit something to memory. Perhaps Rose did have a point after all. I did as I was instructed and waited until Rose told me it was safe to look. When I did turn back around, Rose was lying face-down on the coffee table, wearing only her jeans. When I massaged her back, I made sure not to get too close to her waist, so that I did not stain her pants with the oil. After I had finished with her back, shoulders, neck, and arms, I placed a towel over her upper body and instructed her to roll over. She insisted that I close my eyes before she did what she was told, and after I did, she complied. Beginning from under her chin, I proceeded to work my way up as I gave her a facial massage. Before my oily fingers reached her forehead, I leaned down and gave her a kiss on it. After I had completed her face, I had to ask her to remain still as I relocated myself down to her feet. I finished her right foot and was beginning to work on her left when I noticed Lori coming down the stairs. Her hair was still damp from the shower that she had taken and she was wearing sweats. Since she was carrying her wallet and keys, I figured that she was going to go and pick up Traci. "Why don't you fish out the keys from my khakis and take my car," I suggested. Lori started to say something, but stopped herself. When she pulled out a key ring with two keys on it, I explained, "One is for you and the other for me. I got three of them and Marge already has hers." This time, Lori did not remain silent and asked, "Are you sure? You don't mind me driving your car?" "Yeah, I'm sure." After Lori left the house, Rose spoke up. "Don't you think Traci would have liked you to pick her up?" "My hands are full at the moment," I answered. I then explained, "I can't drive anyone under twenty for the first six months." "Oh, okay. Being emancipated doesn't get you around it?" "Nope. It does allow me to drive between midnight and five am, but for me to drive with a passenger under twenty, they would have to be an immediate family member, like my sister." After I had finished with Rose's feet, I took a towel and began to wipe up the excess oil. I figured that the best way to give Rose some privacy while she got up from the coffee table was to go in the backyard and have a cigarette. It did take a few attempts for me to dislodge my lighter and pack of cancer sticks from my pants pocket using only my toes, but I was successful. It was the cold air that sliced into me when I opened the sliding glass door that reminded me that I was wearing the light cotton yukata. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I really wanted to go outside and have the cigarette, but I knew that if I caught pneumonia because of my addiction, Traci would never let me live it down. I slowly counted to ten before I asked Rose if she was decent. When she said she was, I turned back around and went back to the master bathroom, pausing long enough to store my smokes and lighter in my computer desk drawer. Since my hands and forearms were the only things that were oily, I forewent a shower and just used the sink instead to wash myself. Traci practically pounced on me when I entered the bedroom. After exchanging a soulful kiss with me, she immediately wanted me to fill her in about the day. The two of us sat down on the edge of the bed and I began my recounting. She almost seemed disappointed when she found out that I did not engage in sexual relations with her mother, but the revelation that I had told Marge and Lori that I loved them surprised her. The huge grin on her face made me pause my story and ask, "Why are you so happy?" "Because Mom and Lori can now feel as good as I do," she replied. "Well, I don't know about that. So you're okay with me telling them that I love them?" "Of course I am. I mean, today's the first day that you might have said it to them, but I think deep down they already knew it. Just as long as you remember to love me more than them, then I'll be happy." Traci said that last statement with humor in her voice, but I thought that there was a grain of truth buried in it. "Honey, my love for you consumes me. I doubt that I could ever feel that away about another for the remainder of my life." I laid back and resumed my tale after the two of us exchanged a tender kiss. Traci lay beside and snuggled up to me. I found my eyelids getting heavy and rested them when I reached Rose's massage. I must have fallen asleep around then. I awoke six hours later. Traci was curled up beside me, but she had changed into her pajamas and had draped a blanket over us. She either felt me shift or heard the rumble from my stomach, because she opened her eyes and smiled at me. "You must have been worn out," Traci observed. "Yeah, I guess giving two and a half massages does that to me." "No chance of getting another one from you?" she asked with a playful pout. When I started to sit up, she quickly said, "I'm just kidding. You don't have to give me one." I started to enlighten her as to why I was getting up, but another rumble from my stomach answered for me. Traci started to giggle, but she stopped herself and quickly sat up. She bolted from the bed to her backpack and returned carrying a small wrapped parcel. Handing it to me, she explained, "Fran gave that to me to give to you when she did not see you at school." Unwrapping it, I found inside a chocolate heart about the size of my palm. I hesitantly took a bite out of it and was surprised to find that it was not as sweet as I had expected. Seeing my amazed look, Traci said, "She told me that she made that using a no-carb recipe. Since she had made one for Chuck, it wasn't too much trouble to make one for you, as well." The previous day, all of the girls except for Pollyanna, had joined Rose in the kitchen to make Valentine chocolates. I had thought the reason why Fran had not made one for me (not that I had been expecting one) was because of the jealously that it might bring from Traci. Taking another bite from the chocolate, I studied my girlfriend's expression. The smile that was on her face made it appear that she was not jealous at all over me eating chocolate made by her formerly-perceived nemesis. "What?" Traci asked. I guess I must have been staring at her, so I told her exactly how I felt: "I love you." ------- Chapter 36 "As I buzz through the valley of succulent delight..." - Chad 6:9 It was just past nine on a Saturday morning when the doorbell rang. Rose, Pollyanna, Traci, and I were all in the living room watching Japanese news off the DVR. A huge grin erupted across Pollyanna's face as Rose struggled to get out of her girlfriend's grasp to answer the door. Traci and I laughed as Pollyanna held the smaller girl firmly, though Traci's laughs did suddenly cease as she fell back, her support suddenly vanishing as I quickly got up to answer the door. I frowned slightly as I made my way to the door. Jean, Michelle, and even Erin, knew just to let themselves in instead of ringing the doorbell. I was not expecting any visitors that morning, and it was rare for any of my friends from the anime club to stop by without calling first. Any elation that I had been feeling before quickly vanished as a quick peek through the door's eyehole revealed the likely identity of who was outside. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before opening the door. "Hello. My name is Cameron, this is Jane, and we were wondering if we could speak to the homeowner." They were well-dressed and appeared to be in their mid-twenties. Their physical differences made me suspect that they were not siblings, at least not biologically. They both did have identical toothy smiles on their faces, though I was unable to tell if they were genuine or not. They were also carrying books and magazines. Two of the titles, 'Watchtower' and 'Awake', confirmed my suspicion on what they were. "You're looking at him," I informed Cameron. His smile faltered for a second as he gave me a dubious look. He quickly recovered and then asked, "Perhaps there is an adult that I may talk to?" Both Marge and Lori were still asleep upstairs, and I did not want to have to disturb either of them. With all the stuff we had done the night before with Slave, I doubted I would be seeing them before noon. Friday night was the first time that the three of us were able to engage in sexual activities without the watchful eyes of my girlfriend. Rose had gone to the movies with Pollyanna, and I was able to use that window of opportunity to finally sink my unsheathed cock into Marge's pussy. I came twice with Marge and Slave before leaving them to their own devices in Marge's room. When I went down to my bedroom, I recounted my experiences to Traci, which resulted with her repeating the actions to the best of her ability. Her small silver dildo was called into play to replicate the time when I fucked Marge's pussy while Slave assfucked her. Traci was able to milk two more orgasms out of me, though they were very light in cum. I matched the pair's grin and was just about to tell them what they could do, when it dawned on me that there was one person in the household who might want to speak to them. While I had an inkling of what their stances on homosexuality were, I figured that it would be better to hear it from the horse's mouth. "Actually, there is not; however, there is somebody here who might wish to speak to you. If you would please come in, I'll go get her." I took a step back and allowed them to enter the house. I showed them into the study right off of the foyer and then went into the living room. Three curious heads were turned to see what had been going on. I gave a small smile to Rose. "Cameron and Jane are in the study. I thought you might like to talk to them," I informed the redhead. Rose gave me a puzzled look, but she got up easily, as Pollyanna did not restrain her this time. As Rose headed to the study, I resumed my position on the couch. However, my girlfriend did not lean against me. Instead, she sat upright and gave me a strange look. "Who's Rose talking to?" Traci asked. "Cameron and Jane," I replied, which earned me a frown. When Traci shifted her attention to Pollyanna, she shrugged and supplied, "I'm guessing she's on a 'date'." The frown deepened on her face, and quite suddenly, she got to her feet. She quickly moved out of range of my grasp and started moving away from the couch. "Where are you going?" I queried. "To our bedroom," was the reply I received, but I noticed that Traci slowed down considerably as she passed the archway to the study. Less than a minute passed before she came back into view, and once again, seemed to move at a snail's pass when walking by the entrance to the study. When Traci sat back down on the couch, she seemed to let Pollyanna's words and any tidbits of the conversation she heard sink in. Then, it was as if a light bulb went on above my girlfriend's head. It started off no brighter than a pen light, but grew to as bright as the sun. I had to stifle my laughter as the expression of sudden comprehension crossed her face. "Church! Rose has been going to Church! That's why Sunday Mornings seemed to be the most often she was going out with people. She wasn't dating them, she was going to service!" "Churches, Temples, Synagogues, Mosques," Pollyanna listed with a grin. "But-why didn't you guys tell me what she was doing? Why did you let me think she was dating people?" I waited a few seconds before answering, "Because it was funny?" to which Pollyanna began to fervently nod. Traci's expression slowly became a scowl as she quickly turned her head back and forth between the two of us. Pollyanna and I could not withhold our mirth any longer and began to laugh aloud. That, of course, only seemed to make Traci angrier, which only increased our laughter. However, when I then caught sight of Rose coming in from the study, the laughter suddenly left me. "Chad, could you please ask our guests to leave?" While Rose had tried to keep her voice neutral, she was seething in anger. While it had just been amusing to make my girlfriend angry, strangers having the same effect on Rose was another matter completely. I bolted to my feet and went into the study. "I'm sorry; your presence is no longer desired in this house. I must ask you to leave." Unlike when I first greeted them, I spoke in a clear, firm and precise tone. Gone were the smiles that they had before, and the way they reacted to my request made me think that they were starting to believe that I was indeed the homeowner. When we reached the doorway, I informed them, "There is nobody in this household that wishes to speak to you or your brethren again. Please remove us from your route, and I shall be calling your Kingdom Hall to reiterate my request to them, as well." "We'll only stop by to see if you have moved," Jane said. It was the first time I had heard her voice, and while it might have had sounded pleasant if I had not known who she was, it ended up sounding grating and whiney. I knew my emotions were twisting my perceptions of them, so I took a cleansing breath before replying. "I assure you that I will not be moving in the next six years. However, I will make it a point to call once a year to the Kingdom Hall and inform them that I have not moved. Goodbye." It took my last few ounces of self-control not to slam the door in their faces. They were perfectly entitled to their faith and were free to try to help guide lost souls into their flock. The problem I had was that they could have been a bit more diplomatic when it came to explaining their beliefs instead of saying something that either hurt or upset my friend. When I returned to the living room, Rose had moved closer to her girlfriend, but she remained standing. While she was a tad less red with anger, she was still simmering. "Not only did they tell me that I would have to remain celibate, but that I would have to suppress my desires, longings, feelings of attractiveness, sexual fantasies, and so on regarding other girls! Like I can even do that. At least the Catholics and Mormons will accept you if you remain celibate, but not to even think about it! Like that is even possible. Why can't I find a church that will accept me?" Rose then collapsed into a chair. A hurt look appeared on Pollyanna's face because Rose had not resumed sitting next to her. Fortunately, Rose had glanced over and saw her girlfriend's reaction and immediately reached out her right hand towards her. A smile broke out on Pollyanna's face as she grabbed ahold of the offered hand. I too decided to sit in a chair so I could face Rose directly. "Rose, you're facing an uphill battle when it comes to the Judeo-Christian tradition and homosexuality. It's causing a schism in the Episcopal, Presbyterian, and the United Methodist Churches. Have you had a chance to check out the United Church of Christ or the Unitarian Universalists yet?" Shaking her head, Rose said, "No. I haven't met anybody at school who attends either one of them." "I'm not surprised. Both are rather small compared to the other churches. Truth be told, while the Unitarian Universalist church was the first large religious group to welcome gays and bisexuals fully, most don't consider them Christians. Heck, only a small percent of Unitarian Universalists consider themselves Christian." "What about the other one?" "United Church of Christ? Yeah, they are a tad more mainstream when it comes to Christianity. They were founded in the late Fifties from seven different Christian traditions, and they oppose discrimination based on race, gender, and sexual orientation." "I'd like to go and check them out," Rose said. Nodding, I replied, "Okay, tell you what, I'll see if Eve can give us a ride up to the one in San Luis." All three girls looked at me with confusion on their face, but Traci was the first to speak. "Who the hell is Eve?" ------- "Amen." Eve let out a sigh of relief as the entire congregation repeated the minister's word, signaling the end of the service. Rose, who had been sitting on the other side of Eve, quickly got to her feet and practically bolted away from the pew we were in. I had to assist Eve to her feet, as she was slightly weak-kneed; she took ahold of the arm that I offered her and allowed me to lead her towards the exit. When we stepped outside, Rose was already halfway to my car. I suspected that her hastened pace had less to do with the rain coming down and more to do with what I had been doing to Eve during the sermon. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the remote to unlock the car doors for Rose. After pressing the button on the remote a few times and the car not showing any signs of unlocking, Eve's tightening grip on my arm clued me in that I had the wrong remote. Letting out a mild curse in Lithuanian, I retrieved the correct remote and unlocked the car doors. Eve and I were barely in the car before Rose launched into me. "Jesus Christ! What the hell were you two doing in there?!?" Eve let out a low moan as I triggered one of the three remotes that I had. I'd been doing that throughout when I heard certain keywords. 'Jesus' was the keyword that controlled the vibrating egg in Eve's pussy. It would remain on until the keyword was repeated or 'Amen' was said. "Goddamnit!" Rose cursed as she turned to Eve, "Will you knock that shit off?" If anything, Eve's moans seemed to intensify. Perhaps it was because I had activated the vibrating butt plug when Rose uttered the other keyword. The smile on my face faded as Rose shifted her attention back towards me, the fire in her eyes matching her hair. "I know you don't believe in a higher power, but I do. I can't believe you would pull this shit inside of a house of worship." I started to apologize, but Eve interrupted me. "Can I come, Doug?" The previous evening, I had given Lori a set of instructions that we would be following that morning. We were to take on the personas of Doug and Eve, two teens who had traveled down from the North County to attend service. Of course, if we saw anybody that we knew, we would resume our regular roles, but since the United Church of Christ was a small denomination, the chances of that were rare. Another set of instructions that I had given was that Eve was free to come as she pleased while we were in public, but when we were in private, she would have to ask for permission. At that moment, I was tempted to tell her no and abort the scene, but that would be punishing Eve for my folly. I glanced side-to-side to make sure the coast was clear. The rain and condensation on windows decently masked what was going on inside the vehicle; while the heat of the sexual excitement from Eve seemed to be a source of the windows' fog, I think the temperature fueled by Rose's anger would have sufficed. "You may," I answered. Unlike when we had been inside the church, Eve was free to vocalize her orgasm. Her moans grew louder and louder until she reached her peak and let out a short scream. The knuckles on her hands grew white as she gripped the steering wheel in front of her tightly. As she started to come down from her orgasm, she shifted around in her seat; trying to dampen the effects of the vibrators in her orifices. After Eve had her orgasm, I shifted my gaze back to Rose and saw that the look of anger had been replaced with one of hurt. The guilt that I felt increased tenfold, but before I could say anything, she sadly said, "This could have been the church that I have been looking for, but you ruined it. I can never show my face in there after the stunt that you two pulled." The idea of combining Lori's training with Rose's visit to the United Church of Christ seemed to have been a good one at the time. 'Killing two birds with one stone, ' was the phrase that came to mind, but I guess as a pacifist, I should have known better than trying to kill anything. I began to feel as awful as the time that Traci and I had our little blowup. "I'm so sorry," I quickly said to my redheaded friend. Holding up her hand, she replied, "Save it, Dave." "Dou--" I started to correct her when the significance of the name hit me. It must have shown on my face because Rose broke out with a grin. Flabbergasted, I tried to come up with something cohesive, but what escaped from my mouth was a jumble of syllables. "Gotcha!" Rose exclaimed between a fit of laughter. When she recovered from her mirth, she said, "You fell for it; hook, line, and sinker. Don't get me wrong, I was pissed when I first figured out what was going on in there, but I had time to calm down. Still, it was fun watching you squirm when I busted your chops." The smile on my face was genuine, mostly from the knowledge that I had not alienated my friend. "So, what gave us away?" I asked. After letting out a small snort, Rose answered, "I knew something was wrong when you and Lori insisted on being referred to as Doug and Eve this morning, but it never occurred to me that you would do something inside of church. I think it was the change in 'Eve's' breathing that made suspicious that something was up. That, plus I swore I heard a faint buzzing sound a couple of times during silent prayer." Eve was already flushed from her most recent orgasm, so I was unable to judge if the idea of others hearing the vibrators embarrassed her. Her unfocused gaze seemed to be preoccupied on the windshield in front of her. Unlike when she had been sitting in the pew, Eve's knees were spread and a weak humming could be heard as the car grew quiet. It did not last long, because Rose began to giggle. "Also," Rose added, after she finished giggling, "you kept your hands in your jacket pockets throughout the sermon. It took me a while, but I figured out that you were doing something every time the pastor said 'God' or 'Jesus'." A sigh escaped from Eve when I switched off the vibrators, though it was difficult to tell if it was one of relief or disappointment. Still grinning, Rose took a deep breath and seemed about to repeat the keywords, but changed her mind at the last second and simply exhaled. Her grin started to fade as she looked at me seriously. "Chad, I know I was overacting before, but I meant what I said. If you're going to defile a house of Go--worship, please don't do it when I'm there, or at least, not one that I might be interested in returning to." To me, the building that we had been in was a simple structure whose purpose was to provide shelter to those who gathered to practice and discuss what they believed in. What I had not considered was the special significance that it held for those people, but more importantly, to my friend. I had not realized my actions had been disrespectful, especially since the United Church of Christ was one of the few religions that I respected. My haste in planning had had an unforeseen consequence. Nodding, I replied, "Understood. You think you want to come back?" "I think so. I was somewhat distracted today, but I liked what I heard. I'm still interested in checking out the Unitarian Universalist, though." "Okay, I think Lori and I are free next Sunday if..." "No!" Rose quickly replied, cutting me off. "I'll ask Mrs. Caspar or Mrs. Huntington if they could take me, thank you very much." Rose gave me a smile, and I realized how lucky I was. In my carelessness, I had pushed the bounds of our friendship and had been fortunate that I had not damaged it permanently. While Rose had always been considerate of my views, I had not always been so of hers, and I vowed to be more so in the future. Smiling, I turned my attention to the girl sitting beside me. "Let's go on home, Lori," I said, signaling the end of the scene. "Amen." ------- Rose met Lori and me as we were walking to lunch from math class. A couple of days had passed since our little escapade at the United Church of Christ. I spotted her worried face approaching and hurried up to her. My first instinct was that something had gone wrong with her meeting with Ms. Miyazawa about her being our club advisor, but it turned out that I was horribly wrong. "Mom's gone," she said as soon as we came within earshot. She went on to explain, "Veronica Chavez, a girl who lives a few houses down from my house, came up to me and said that my mom moved away. There is already a sold sign in the yard. Veronica asked where I had gone to, since she had not seen me around the neighborhood." "Any idea where she could have gone?" I asked. Rose shook her head, and then a look of surprise crossed her face as she thought of one possible explanation. "She always said that she would one day move to South America to do missionary work. You think she did that?" I shrugged, "No idea." I reached out and gave my friend a reassuring hug. The three of us walked to the Quad, and Lori bid farewell as she went to go eat lunch with her usual group of friends. Rose and I trudged along in silence to our table. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts, it was not until Traci nudged me and pointed out that I had not taken out my lunch, that I returned my attention to what was going on around me. "I'm not hungry. Your mom should be home right about now, right?" I asked my girlfriend. She nodded, and I said, "I'm going to go home. I'll try to be back in time for health." Rose shot me a questioning look, so I smiled and said, "I have an idea, but I need to talk to Traci's mom about it. Don't worry, everything should work out fine." When Lori saw me walking towards her, she fished out her keys from her jeans and tossed them at me. I caught them, mostly just out of reflex, and gave her a smile. She must have figured out that her master had come up with a plan of action and needed to talk to her mother about it. I surprised Marge when I entered the house, since she had no idea that I was coming home. I guess I could have called first, but I did not own a cell phone. Anyhow, once she recovered herself, she greeted me. "Coming home for a nooner?" I gave a weak smile and replied, "Mrs. Caspar, we need to talk." She understood my coded phrase and grew serious. When I used that phrase, it usually meant life-altering changes were on the horizon. She nodded and said, "Don't sugar coat it; let me have it." Ignoring the wide opening for a possible pun, I told her what Rose had said to Lori and me. I added, "I know, in the past, I have joked with you about you gaining a son-in-law, but what do you think about gaining a daughter?" "You want me to adopt Rose? I adore Rose, but you have to be realistic. It will be very difficult for me to adopt her. I am sure that Social Services would examine her living environment, the worthiness of me as her guardian, and all types of crap like that. Anyhow, wouldn't she go into foster care first?" "If you give me your consent, I think I can take care of the rest." Marge raised her eyebrow, so I added, "I'll give my father a call, and he can put me in touch with our lawyer. With the right amount of money, anything can be taken care of." "I don't know, Chad; if you do anything illegal, it could backfire on us." "I won't do anything illegal," I lied to her. Marge said, "You know that this does not just affect me. I have to talk to Lori and Traci, as well as find out from Rose if this is what she wants." "I know. I just want to get this done fast, the sooner the better as far as I am concerned." "Well, you can call your father and start working your end. Is it better if I don't know what you'll be doing?" "Curiosity ki... Yes, it is better that you don't know," I said, changing what I was going to say, lest I got that silly reply about satisfaction. "Okay. Did you want to call now, or do you want to head back to school?" I decided that I had better wait until after school. That would give the CYA plenty of time to decide what they had in store for me. What I was going to ask from them was rather simple; after all, they specialized in 'acquiring' agents. However, the price I was going to pay still needed to be determined. I was willing to do just about anything, short of violating my vow of pacifism, to make sure Rose stayed with us. ------- I was a few minutes tardy for fifth period, but Mr. Turner let me slide. I had stayed on his good graces during zero period swimming and agreed to play water polo in the summer league. Since we would be taking a test the next day, Mr. Turner spent most of the time in class reviewing the material that we would need to know. Confident that I knew the material, I only listened with a half an ear while I went over my plan in my head. I greeted Traci with a quick kiss before we entered health class. Traci started to ask me where I had gone during lunch, but the bell rang and Mrs. Frisk started class immediately. We had just started the section on human reproduction, and whenever Traci raised her hand to either ask a question or make a comment, part of me tensed, afraid of the information that she might volunteer. Luckily, Traci seemed to have picked up on this and did not embarrass me too much. "Mrs. Frisky, how come my boyfriend can give my mom and sister multiple orgasms, but not me?" My girlfriend asked her question in such a low voice that I had to strain myself to hear her in the crowded hallway as we made our way towards the girl's locker room. While I was certain that I was the only one to hear her, my eyes darted quickly around to make sure no one else heard her as well. Traci started laughing hard as I hung my head in mock exasperation, and it seemed my lunchtime excursion was temporarily forgotten by the love of my life. Lori came out of the girl's locker-room as Traci and I were walking towards it. She took her car keys from me and said, "I talked to Stacy, and she said that Traci can go ahead and miss practice." Stacy Midfield was the junior varsity head cheerleader, and once again, I was proud of my friend's foresight. Lori was beginning to integrate her slave and regular personas: she had anticipated what my next move might be and acted accordingly. "What's going on?" asked a bewildered Traci. I guess Rose had not filled everybody in at lunch after I had left. I just said, "Looks like you'll be missing practice." "Yeah, right. Something's afoot." I smiled, and wrapped my arm around Traci. All that I could give Lori was a smile; public affection not allowed where people who knew us were about. Rose was already at Lori's car and did not make a comment when she saw that Traci was with Lori and me. Traci asked Rose if she knew what was going on. Rose started to reply when I said, 'Let's wait until we get to the car." Rose shrugged and Traci gave her trademarked pout, but held her peace. When we entered the car, I took Rose's usual place in the passenger seat. When Lori got in the car, I reached over and placed my hand on her thigh. I leaned over and whispered into her ear, "You did well, Lori. Remind me to reward you later." Lori shot me a grin, started the car, and drove us home. Rose began to tell Traci the same tale that she had told Lori and me. When we got out of the car, Traci asked why she had to miss cheer practice, to which Rose just shrugged. "Household meeting," I announced as we headed into the house. Marge was watching the plasma, and I asked her if we could all meet at the dining room table. When we were all seated, I nodded to Marge to begin. "Chad came home during lunchtime today to tell me what had happened with Rose's mother. He had a plan, and I think we all know about Chad's plans." This brought a few chuckles from the girls. Marge continued, "He suggested that I adopt Rose, but I need to hear what you three think." Both Rose and Traci seemed shocked at the idea. Marge caught her oldest daughter nodding and asked her, "Did Chad tell you what he had planned?" "No, but I thought it was the obvious decision. I have been thinking about it since lunch, and I have already decided it was a good idea. And no, I am not just saying it because it's my master's idea." That comment caused smiles to break out around the table. Rose broke the silence by asking, "Are you sure you want me?" It was Marge's turn to be shocked. She got up and walked over to Rose. She pulled the young redhead to her feet and said, "Rose, you are a precious friend to my daughters, and I like to think of you as a friend, as well. Of course I would be honored to have you as a daughter. And even if they won't let me legally adopt you, I would like you to think of me as a mother." Rose gave a weak smile and said, "I've only had one mother, and I don't think you want me to think of you like I do her." A flash of anger crossed Marge's face, but she said in an even tone, "Hon, that woman may have given you life -- for which I am glad that she did, because you are indeed a wonderful person -- but it is a disservice to all mothers to even consider her as a mom." Tears had started to well up in Rose's eyes, and Marge engulfed her in a warm hug. I turned to my usually talkative girlfriend and asked, "What do you think?" "About me getting another older sister? The fact that she was my friend, then one of my best friends, then my boyfriend's maid, then my maid as well, and now she's going to be my sister, an older one at that? Give me a few moments to let it sink in." "Speaking of which," Marge said as she broke her hug with Rose, "I think we should reexamine Rose's role here. We all should take on some of the chores that Rose has been doing. She should not be treated like a housekeeper." "No," flatly stated Rose. "I like my role as maid. It's a small price to pay to be able to live here." I sighed and said, "Rose, how many times do I have to say that you don't have to do anything to stay here. I want you here because you're a friend and..." "I like my role," repeated Rose, cutting me off. "I'm the maid, Traci's the wife, Lori's the chauffer/sex slave, and Mrs. Caspar is the mistress." I saw Marge blush slightly at that assessment of her. While we had not been completely secretive about our relationship, we had tried to keep it on the low side. As usual, it seemed that nothing escaped Rose's attention. I asked Rose, "And who am I?" "Easy, you're the main character. The whole universe revolves around you." I rolled my eyes at Rose's comment and vowed that I would make sure that Rose would watch some different anime than the ones she had currently been watching. Ever since her experience with Kannadzuki no Miko, she had shifted her viewings towards romantic-comedies. The only problem was that there were plenty of shows about a bumbling idiot being surrounded by luscious (and usually buxom) ladies, but not many with a strong female as the central character. The actual few that came to mind still had them being subservient to the bumbling idiot boyfriend. Perhaps Rose should start watching regular TV, instead. The Japanese male chauvinistic attitude that my anime conveys was not the proper source of entertainment for a growing young woman. Now for me, on the other hand, it was just perfect. It seemed that Rose's reference to Traci being 'my wife' dissipated any doubts my girlfriend had about gaining a new sister. "Welcome to the family," Traci said with a grin on her face. The tears that Rose had successfully fought back until then began to pour down her face, and Marge resumed hugging her. Traci, Lori, and I went to them, and we all ended up in a group hug. When we finally broke the long hug, I announced, "I need to go to my room and make some phone calls." As I started to leave the room, I noticed Traci falling in behind me. I stopped, turned to face her, and said, "I'm sorry, but it is probably best that I make these calls in private." Surprisingly, Traci did not offer an ounce of resistance. Shrugging, she said, "Okay." "I can take you back to practice," Lori told Traci. I gave my girlfriend a quick kiss and headed back to the master bedroom. I was tempted to lock the door, but figured that it was not necessary. I then went over to the computer desk and brought up the telnet prompt. Multi-user dungeons -- MUDs -- were created in the late Seventies. They were text-driven games that allowed multiple players to log in and play with each other. It was during the Eighties that the government realized their potential for allowing agents from different agencies to log in and communicate with one another. They created one named TeraMUD that was housed in Langley, though outsiders were led to believe that it was located somewhere in Minnesota. That was one of the advantages: to hide in plain sight. By allowing outsiders to log in and play, it would not be as suspicious if just agents used it. After typing in the address for TeraMUD, one of the first things that I noticed was that they had changed their name to Arcane Ages. At least they still kept the same address. I did a 'who' command to see who was online and saw that Engada was connected. Outsiders were led to believe that Engada was a guy in his mid-twenties that lived in Australia when actually she was a woman in her sixties that was a handler at the CIA. "I seek a quest," I told her, using the 'tell' command that allowed me to send her a private message. I was taken from the Gargoyle Inn, the place where a majority of the players logged in at, and brought to Engada's private room. In the relative safety of the room, we were able to use the 'say' commands to speak to one another. "Long time, no see. I take it you seek a restring quest?" she asked. To 'restring' was to change the name of something, so I figured that she was referring to Rose's adoption. Even though I was connected on a secure link, it was standard operating procedure to communicate in code. I was not too surprised that the CYA had already contacted Engada and informed her that I would most likely be logging in. After I used the nod command to signal my understanding, Engada continued. "You shall take this coin and travel to Maeshimi. Once there, you shall seek out the place that angers Maeshimi's neighbors when Masushi visits there. When you toss the coin into the pond that you find, a fish will swallow it, signaling the end of the quest. Do you understand?" Maeshimi was the area of the MUD that represented Japan, which made sense with my upcoming trip. Masushi was the shogun and ruler of the area and I figured that he represented the current Emperor. The part about angering Maeshimi's neighbors did not make sense at first, until I realized that Masushi was not symbolizing the Emperor, but the Prime Minister. China and South Korea both objected to the Prime Minister's visits to Yasukuni shrine. "How long do I have to complete this quest?" I asked. "It must be done during the fourth sunset before the full moon." "Three days after I set foot in Maeshimi," I said, just to make sure we were on the same page. "Aye," Engada said. She handed me a coin and then brought me back to the Gargoyle Inn. Even though it was not necessary, I went ahead and did the virtual representation of the quest. It took less than ten minutes to complete it. The longest part of the online version of the quest was trying to find the room that matched Engada's description. It was when I came across an ornamental garden and a sohei called out to me that I realized I had found the proper place. Engada was controlling the Buddhist warrior monk, and after I had dropped the coin, he morphed into Engada. She took the long sword that I had been wielding, and after a moment, handed it back to me, renaming it 'a rose'. After I thanked her, I recited a recall scroll to bring me back to the Gargoyle Inn and 'rented out' -- ending the connection to the game. It was after I logged off that I noticed my hands trembling slightly. Trepidation had filled me when I had asked for my mission; wetwork could have been a valid assignment, despite my personal beliefs. I had lucked out by receiving a simple courier mission that entailed a dead drop, one that did not require me to meet the other person. I fished out one of the packs of cigarettes that I had hidden in one of my desk drawers and debated on smoking inside or out. Even if I opened the windows, I was sure that my girlfriend's sensitive nose would notice it. I did not want to press my luck, so I decided to have my much-needed cigarette outdoors. Rose spotted me as I passed through the living room to the backyard and followed me outside. I lit up and took a couple of drags before looking at her. The look of worry on her face quickly vanished when I smiled and nodded my head. She rushed up to me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug and thanking me repeatedly. I realized, then, that I probably could overcome my vow of pacifism for my redheaded friend. ------- Chapter 37 "I always ring twice." P. Mann I came upon an argument between Chuck and Fran on Friday. Traci and I had finished zero period and we were stopping by my locker to drop off some stuff before I escorted her to hers. "That's crazy! You'll get yourself killed! Do you even know how to play?" Fran asked heatedly. Snorting, Chuck replied, "Of course. I'm black. All blacks know how to play football." The two of them noticed Traci and me and paused their argument long enough to smile and acknowledge us before continuing. Fran asked Chuck, "Does it have to be football? Why don't you try out water polo instead?" "Yeah right. Niggers can't swim." I frowned and noticed that Fran was doing the same. For the past few days, Chuck had been making disparaging remarks about his race. Fran started to say something, but Chuck cut her off. "Besides, I've seen you guys play before; it's worst than football. You got a black eye and nearly broke your nose last fall. At least in football, I'd have padding." Chuck was referring to a particularly violent game that Fran and I had played when we were still on the Junior Varsity team. It was against Lompoc and there was one player, Number Seven, which seemed to have taken a keen interest in Fran. While groping was nothing new to water polo, Fran's position as goalie made it difficult for her to apply the 'attitude adjustment' technique that Coach Turner had taught the girls. The situation escalated quickly when she and Number Seven had gone after a loose ball. Fran was able to gain possession of the ball, but ended up receiving a nasty elbow to the face. She was out of the game for five minutes until she could get the bleeding to stop. It was not until close to the end of the fourth period that Fran was able to retaliate. While the errant elbow might have been difficult to be determined deliberate, the same could not be said for the ball that was thrown by Fran into Number Seven's face; the force was such that it flew fifteen-feet into the air after striking him. Fran was ejected from the game and we had to play the remaining thirty-seconds 'man down'. Coach Turner did not give Fran any grief at all. Perhaps it was because we were up by five and she had acted only after making sure we had the game in the bag. The next time we played Lompoc, it did seem that Number Seven kept his distance from Fran. Chuck's reference to Fran's injury did not faze her. Angrily, she said, "You won't need a helmet since you have such a thick head." The wisest move would be to remain silent, but I never claimed to be practically smart. Not wanting either one to say something that they would later regret, I said to Chuck, "Hey, if you're serious about football, why don't you swing by my house after school." Suspicious, Chuck asked, "Why?" "Well, if you do go out for football, you need to be in good physical condition. If you come by my house, we can go running." Chuck gave me a dubious look, but he nodded his head. He then turned and headed off to his class. Fran lingered around long enough to say, "I'm sorry," before going off to catch up with him. As I squatted down to dial in the combination to my locker, Traci began to say something, but stopped herself and remained silent. It seemed rather silly to haul around my textbooks since I had pretty much memorized them, but I had to keep maintain the appearance that I needed them. After stowing away all the tomes, save the English ones, I closed the locker and spun the dial. I made a conscientious effort not to look at where the dial landed, but failed. Walking Traci to her locker it seemed that she was holding my arm tighter than before. I guessed seeing the argument between the Johnson twins had affected her as it did me. With my free hand, I reached over and patted her hand, trying to reassure her that everything would be okay. ------- I was changing into my sweats when there was a quick knock at my bedroom door. "Come in," I said, and no sooner were the words out of my mouth then Rose flew in. She was clutching an overnight envelope and handed it to me soon after I pulled my sweatshirt over my head. I glanced at it before handing it back to Rose. Her startled look prompted me to ask, "What? It's addressed to Marge." "Yeah, but look at whom it's from." The return address label read from the Law Firm of Philips, Hedges and Benson. The name seemed familiar and it took me a few seconds to recall that it was from my legend; the law firm represented my family and me. Kojonoj, the CYA had been quick to respond. Only three days had elapsed since we had discussed the idea of Marge adopting Rose and already they were sending paperwork. While I was not privy to their procurement process, there was no way they could respond so quickly unless they already had set the plan in motion. I do not know what unsettled me more, that I was so predictable or that they were aware of the situation before I was. The doorbell rang before I had a chance to reply. Picking up my socks and tennis shoes, I followed Rose out of my room. Chuck was already in the foyer by the time we got there; despite my open invitation to let themselves in, a few of the otaku insisted on knocking or ringing the doorbell before doing so. After giving Chuck a quick greeting, Rose went off to resume her task of sorting the mail she had retrieved from the mailbox. I was lacing up my shoes when Lori came by to investigate who had arrived. She said hello to Chuck as well, but there was the silent conversation that she and I had that went unnoticed by my black friend. 'Do you want me to join you?' was the look she gave me to which I replied with a subtle headshake. Her head nod was as equally subtle and she lingered around long enough to bid us farewell when we left. After we did some brief stretching, I started off at an easy pace; the muscles I was using having been long neglected. While the zero period swimming class had provided me with a good cardiovascular workout, it was nice to see how far and long I could run. Chuck fell in step beside me and I slowly increased our speed. I had just begun to work up a good sweat when Chuck reached out and grab ahold of my arm. As we slowed to a stop, I looked over and saw that his tee shirt was drenched with perspiration. His breathing was labored and he hunched over, placing his hands on his knees, when we stopped. I jogged in place until it became clear that we were not going to be running anymore. Chuck's weight loss seemed to be attributed to his low-carb diet and he had not been doing any type of cardio activity. Physical exertion had hopefully weakened his defenses and I waited until he caught his breath before I began my informal interrogation. "You know, they do a helluva lot more running in football. Why are you so gung-ho about going out for it?" "Do I need a reason?" Chuck gaspingly replied. "Well, yeah. I mean, you haven't shown an interest in football before. You and the gang would only go to the football games if you were going to the dance afterward, and even then, y'all would only come by during the fourth quarter after the box offices closed. Also, Fran does not seem to want you to play..." Despite Chuck's heavy breathing, I was able to detect the noise of disgust he let out. "What?" I asked him. "Fran," he answered bitterly. "She is always protecting me. Ever since grade school, she has fought my battles. Whenever she found out that somebody was picking on me, she would seek them out and beat them up. Do you know what that's like?" "Having someone that cares about your wellbeing? I like to think so." Chuck rolled his eyes at my response. "Even last week, she had to stick her nose into my business." I patiently waited for him to continue. Chuck was beginning to get breathing under control and when he saw me silently watching me, he asked, "You know Russell Young?" I nodded. Russell Young was a junior and one of the Aggies. They were a collection of students that wore boots, Wranglers, and plaid shirts. A few of them even wore Stetsons to school. While there were some that actually grew up and worked on their family ranches, a majority were wannabe cowboys. Russell Young fell into the later category. "Anyhow, Russell cornered me and was hassling me in Senior Hall. Fran saw it, came over, and pushed him away, telling him to pick on somebody his own size. For a second, I thought he was going to take a swing at her. Anyway, when we were walking away, he told her, 'When you get tired of dark meat, I've got some white meat for ya.'." "What did she say?" I prompted him when he grew quiet. "Oh, something like, 'No thanks, I'm a vegetarian.'" A few seconds elapsed before we both burst out laughing. "What the hell does that mean?" I asked once I was able to control myself. "Hell if I know. I mean, if she said she preferred fish, then I guess she would be saying that she was like Rose." We both started to giggle again at Chuck's observation. Once again, I was befuddled at the total lack of logic of the female mind. Then again, in the heat of the moment, it was often difficult to come up with a witty comeback. "So, because of some redneck asshole, you want to go out for football and get your neck broken?" Shaking his head, Chuck answered, "Not just that. There's the letterman's jacket." The letterman's jacket. How one piece of apparel could cause so much grief continued to amaze me. "What about the jacket?" "You've seen Fran's. When she lettered in volleyball last year, she got a guys one. She told me that way when I got a letter, I wouldn't have to get a girls and that we could remain 'twins'." There were a few differences between the lettermen's jackets. The guys jacket had leather sleeves while the girls did not. The girls instead had a hood that could be unzipped and hung flat on their back. While Fran was not the only girl who had a 'guys' jacket, there were no guys who had a 'girls' one. "So you think football is your only option? There are plenty of other sports you could try out for. Fran had a good point about water polo." Chuck started to interrupt me, but I pressed on. "And don't give me any bullshit about blacks not being able to swim. I've seen you plenty of times in the pool at my house to know that you can. By the way, you might not have noticed, but we're getting tired of your racial slams. It is getting old real quick so could you please knock it off." Chuck started to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he turned around and began walking back to my house. As I fell in stride beside him, he asked, "Why did you go out for water polo?" My first instinct was to make a witty comment about seeing Fran in a swimsuit, but like Traci, I did not think he would find it amusing. Instead, I settled for the truth, "I found out that Traci was trying out for it and wanted to spend time with her." "So why didn't you go out for cheerleading?" "Ah, well, that was before she was living with me. Now, it is kinda nice that we have our own separate endeavors. Don't get me wrong, I love my sweetheart to death, but if we were with each other twenty-four/seven, it just might end up in death; mine." Chuck let out an amused snort. "Must be nice having a girlfriend," he observed. "You tell me," I replied. "What?" "Dude, you and Fran are pretty much going out with each other. I mean, you aren't at the lovey-dovey phase yet, but I think it is just a matter of time. And what you were saying before about her leaping to your defense, I've seen you do the same thing when you hear somebody teasing her about her height. Besides, do you really think she would be joining us for game night if you were not there? Dave might be the ladies man, but come on." Chuck seemed too shocked to be amused at my dig regarding our mutual friend. I took that opportunity to glance around to make sure that the coast was clear. Having chosen our route to remain in residential neighborhoods, the chance of a patrol car passing by was slim. I retrieved my cigarette case and lighter from my sweatpants pockets and quickly lit up. "Jesus, how in the hell can you smoke now?" Chuck asked, seemingly recovered from my revelation. How the hell could I not? I started golf practice the next week and would be under my self-imposed restriction of smoking on the weekends. Chuck took a few steps past me when I suddenly stopped in my tracks, an idea forming in my mind. While I wish I could attribute the thought to the influx of nicotine, I knew it was not the case. "Golf! Why don't you try out for the golf team with me? I mean, if you want to go out for football or even water polo, you'll need to get yourself in better condition. While you are doing that, you could play golf." Chuck gave me a blank expression before he started laughing. "You crazy, Cracker. A mofo niggah like me being all like Tiger Woods." Perhaps because there was humor in his voice, his racial slurs did not seem as grating. Still, I gave him a frown to which he quickly replied, "Sorry. That was too easy not to pass up. You are mentally deranged, Caucasian. An African-American such as me, trying to mimic Tiger Woods." While Chuck was not as masterful with dialects like I was, he was able to capture the New England one perfectly. My frown slowly turned into a grin. "Why not?" "Besides a few weeks in P.E., I've never played before." "So? Have you ever played football before? And I don't mean tag or flag." Chuck shook his head so I continued. "I'm not saying that you'll make Varsity, but it will give you some much needed exercise. Trust me; hauling around a set of clubs around a golf course will give you a good workout." "Clubs. I don't have any." "No problem. When I talked to Coach Forest about joining the team, he informed me that he had a few sets that people can use. It seems that people like to donate their old golf clubs to the school team when they buy new ones. Besides, I think Lori has an old set that she had outgrown, but should still be suitable for you." Chuck gave me an uncertain look. After taking a deep drag on my cigarette, I said, "The way it works is that the top six players make up the Varsity team while the next six make up the J.V. one. I don't know how many people are going out for golf, so I can't tell you what our chances are of making either team. Anyway, the roster changes depending on how well people do at practice." "I don't know..." "Tell you what, if it doesn't rain on Sunday, why don't we go play at Black Lake? We could use the driving range and putting green until it is time for twilight play. Besides being cheaper, we aren't forced to use the golf carts." "And that's a good thing?" Chuck asked disbelievingly. "Baka. The whole point is getting you to exercise." After letting out a snort, Chuck said, "I'm free if you want to go now." I winced and replied, "I would love to, but I already have some plans. I'm already running a tad behind as it is." Nodding, Chuck turned and began to job back to the house. He glanced over his shoulder and began chucking at my dilemma. I was not finished with my cigarette and the scowl on my face was from debating on hurriedly finishing it or snuffing it out and resuming it later. Deciding neither option was practically pleasant, I began to jog after him with the cigarette dangling from my mouth. It only took me twenty yards to realize the error in my judgment and I ended up flicking the butt into the street. I grew even more frustrated with myself when I went over and retrieved the discarded trash; my environmental side had begun to nag me about littering. ------- Chuck did not bother coming into the house and I said my farewell to him at his car. I needed to retrieve my car keys so I entered the house to retrieve them. Marge had arrived home during my absence and caught me before I could make my exit. "Chad, you got a moment?" she asked me. "Sure," I answered. Ever since I got my license, I had tried to make it over to Molly's workshop during the weekdays after school. Even with my curtailed schedule once golf started, it appeared that I would have all the fucking machines done in the next few weeks. Carl and Lawrence were also ahead of schedule as well and the idea of having the Dungeon ready shortly after returning from the trip to Japan looked promising. I followed Marge into the dining room where she had some paperwork spread out. The opened envelope that was on the table, which I had previously seen, clued me in to what they might be. Rose was sitting at the table reading some of the papers and she looked up when we entered. "Can this be true? Once Mrs. Caspar signs these, she'll have temporary custody for me for thirty days and after that, I'll be officially adopted?" In all likelihood, Rose was already officially adopted. The documents that were on the table were a charade that the CYA had concocted. Still, you would think that they would have had enough sense to let some time pass before sending them. Then again, they were part of the government and lack of common sense was not a foreign concept. I told her, "Looks that way." "Do I dare ask if you broke any laws?" Marge inquired. Shaking my head, I replied, "I doubt it. Look, my parents pay a lot of money keeping our lawyers on retainer. I'm guessing they were eager to prove their worthiness. After all, they have not been too successful with my mom's trouble with the IRS so they might have been overzealous with this task. I'm sure it is all above board." Problems with the Internal Revenue Service were the reason why my parents had to stay abroad. It also explained why the house was in my name as well. While it may not be the most airtight justification, it had seemed to work so far. Marge did not seemed too reassured by my words, but she began to sign the documents. She paused when she reached one that required being signed in the presence of a notary. The fact that it was already notarized seemed to add little credence to what I had told her, but she turned a blind eye to it and signed it anyway. Rose had to sign a few of the papers as well and it only took them a couple of minutes to finish it. "All that remains is for it to be mailed back," Marge announced. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Mrs. Caspar? I understand if you want to change your mind," Rose told Marge. Reaching out, Marge took ahold of Rose's hand, which had begun to tremble with worry. Looking into her eyes, Marge told the redhead, "Dear, I have never been surer than anything before. While you might not consider me as a mother, I'll love you just as much as I do my other daughters." A wry smile broke across Rose's face and she observed, "I don't know. Pollyanna might object to that." The look of shock on Marge's face caused Rose to quickly apologize. "I'm sorry! Forget I said that." While it was not surprising that the relationship between Marge and I had been discovered by Rose, we had gone to great lengths to conceal the one between Marge and her oldest daughter. Marge was stunned for a few seconds before she could speak. Even then, she was a little incoherent. "How... when... wha..." Tears began to well up in Rose's eyes and she quickly replied, "I'm sorry. It was something that I just picked up on. Like with you and Chad, you know; a glance here, a touch there. I swear, I did not tell a soul. I didn't even tell Polly." Marge stood, still holding Rose's hand. Once she pulled the girl to her feet, she enveloped her in a hug. "You have nothing to be sorry, Rose. If anything, I'm sorry that I kept it from you. It's not like I didn't trust you, but more that I was ashamed of myself. I doubt you'll take little solace with me telling you that it's just with Slave and not Lori. Also, I'm not attracted to you." Rose sniffed and muttered, "Gee, I don't know if that makes me feel good or bad." When they broke their hug, they began to giggle at one another. Once they stopped their laughter, Marge kept her hands on Rose's shoulders. Looking her directly in the eyes, she told her, "Dear, you are a beautiful young woman. I just not sexually attracted to you, thank God." "Like Erin," Rose kidded. "Jesus, what is with that girl? She just oozes sexuality," observed Marge. "Yeah, you and me both wouldn't mind sampling her oozing." Marge and Rose began their giggling anew at Rose's comment. "I bet she could even make my youngest consider switch hitting," Marge added causing another round of laughter. "Remind me to keep Traci away from her," I said, reminding them both of my presence in the room. Once they reeled in their mirth, I asked, "Did you want me to mail that for you?" "Actually," Marge answered, "I was thinking about taking Rose down to the post office so that she can fill out a change of address card." Frowning, Rose said, "I don't see the point. I never received mail before." Startled, Marge asked, "Not even from relatives?" "Nope. Mom was an only child and her parents died before I was born. Dad pretty much cut his family ties when he ran away from home. Before he left, I remember him talking about a brother and a sister, but I think he got along with them as well as he did with his parents." "Be that as it may, we might as well do that. Besides, we might be able to find out how long your... the woman who gave birth to you has been gone and possibility a forwarding address." Rose gave Marge a smile, though I think Marge's change of words had less to do with Rose and more to the fact that she could not consider Mrs. Goodwin a mother. "I still have to make supper," Rose protested. "Nonsense, we'll pick up some Chinese. You want to come along, Chad?" Glancing at the clock, I nodded. Chinese sounded appetizing and tasted better while it was hot. "I just need to make a phone call," I informed them. "Oh? Need to cancel your rendezvous?" Rose joked. She and Marge both knew where I had been spending my afternoons, especially when they had helped me carry in a few of the completed machines. The last one I brought home, Marge had started up the stairs with it when I stopped her and asked where she was going. She replied that she was taking it up to her room so that she could make sure it was safe before subjecting her daughter to it. It was only after I promised that she could try it out once the Dungeon was completed that she helped Rose and me carry it downstairs. ------- "Will my passport work?" Rose asked as she began to dig into her purse. "Sorry, Hon. It needs to be something that has your address on it," Paula patiently explained. It turned out that it was a rather tedious process for Rose to change her address. It seemed that there was a problem with students coming in and filling out a change of address card, therefore diverting their report cards. Paula, the postal clerk that we were working with, had been sympathetic to Rose's plight once Marge gave her an abbreviated history of Rose's situation. Besides allowing Rose to change her address, we had discovered that Mrs. Goodwin had asked the post office to hold her mail starting three weeks prior. We had also found out that there were a few letters that were addressed to Rose, but Paula was unable to hand them out without proof that Rose had indeed lived there. "Rose, it's okay. They'll be forwarded to you and you'll get them tomorrow. Right?" Marge directed her remark to Paula. Nodding, Paula replied, "Yes. As I explained, they can be delivered to your new address, but I cannot physically hand them to you unless you can prove to me that you are Rose Goodwin of 389 Fourth Street. I know how silly it sounds, but them's the rules. Identify theft and all." "I wasn't kidding earlier, I never get mail. Knowing that I have four letters is killing me! I won't get an ounce of sleep tonight!" It was getting close to closing time for the post office and a line had started to develop behind us. Paula paid it no heed and let her co-workers deal with the extra overflow that our delay was causing. "Tell you what; do you know your mail carrier's name?" Frowning, Rose answered, "No. Wait, I know what he looks like. He has a tan, black hair, and a mustache." Paula let out a short chuckle. "Hon, that describes half the mailmen." She then looked side-to-side and added just loud enough so that we were the only ones that could hear, "And a few of the women." While Marge and I smiled, Paula's humor did little for Rose. Paula did not seem to mind and said, "The person who has your route is due back shortly. If you want to take a seat, you can wait until he returns. If he can identify you, then I'll be able to hand you the letters. Sound good?" "Yes," Marge quickly answered. She had been around Rose long enough to pick up the early warning signs of Rose's fiery temper. Taking Rose's arm, she guided Rose away, but not before shooting Paula an apologetic smile. Paula returned the smile and nodded. As I followed the two women towards a bench, I began to wonder how many times Paula might have heard a similar story such as Rose's. While I hoped Rose's was the first, I suspected that it was not. Marge and I sat down on the bench, and even though there was plenty of room for Rose, she remained standing. She began to pace back and forth, only pausing long enough to glance at the clock. Marge let Rose do that for four minutes and twenty-three seconds before she had had enough. "Hon, please sit down," Marge told Rose. I do not know if it was intentional or if Paula's reference to Rose had slipped into Marge's subconscious, but I could not let the opportunity pass. "Yeah Hon, take a seat." Rose glared at us when we began to chuckle. Her anger had reached its boiling point. Directing it towards me, she said, "I'll take a seat and shove it right up your--" Rose did not finish her sentence because Marge and I both stood up. Turning around, Rose spotted what had caught our attention; Paula was waving us over and next to her was a tan man with black hair and a mustache. Rose darted over and with us following in her footsteps. "Luke, do you recognize this young lady?" Paula asked the man. Luke studied Rose for a moment before answering, "Yeah, it has been a while, but she's Violet Goodwin's daughter, Rose. Gets at least one letter a week." Rose's excitement of being identified was short lived as Luke's words hit her. Shocked, she asked, "What?" Frowning, Luke explained, "I've been delivering a letter addressed to you for, oh, at least the past four years." All of the color from Rose's face drained and she turned as white as a ghost. When she began to sway, Marge reached out to steady the shell-shocked girl. What Luke said next seemed to stun Rose even more. "Yeah, I'm almost positive it's been at least four years. I remember one time Rose here was playing in front of her house and instead of putting their mail in their mail slot, I went ahead and gave it to her. The next day Violet tore me a new one. She told me that her daughter was irresponsible and that she insisted that I hand the mail to her personally from now on," Luke explained to Paula. Rose seemed to posses enough strength to reach out and take the offered letters from Paula. After Marge and I thanked the two postal workers, we escorted Rose to the car. Since Marge was with us, I was allowed to drive, though Marge got into the back with Rose instead of in the passenger seat where she had been. I did not think Rose even noticed Marge's presence as she carefully opened the first letter. A heavy silence filled the car as I pulled out of the parking lot and began driving to the Chinese restaurant. I debated turning on the radio and catching the tail end of All Things Considered, but in the end, I left it off. "Chad," Marge said softly, breaking the silence. Though my glance in the review mirror only lasted a second, I saw enough to want to pull over. Tears were freely rolling down Rose's pretty face as she read her letter. I aborted my plan when Marge instructed, "Let's go on home." "No!" Rose quickly protested. "Could you take me to Polly's house?" While I knew where the Huntington's house was, I had to recall if it was information that I had been privy to. When I first arrived in Central City, I had been pretty diligent (paranoid) when it came to investigating people that I had come into contact with. I then remembered a time that I had been with Lori when she had dropped off Rose at Pollyanna's house so I began driving there without asking for directions. Glancing in the review mirror again, I saw that Marge had unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over to be next to Rose. Marge had wrapped her left arm around Rose's shoulders and was petting the girl's head with her right. Rose leaned against Marge as she continued to read her letters. ------- Chapter 38 "Pass me the apple." - A. to E. "Where's the Chinese food?" my girlfriend greeted Marge and me as we stepped through the front door. " 'Welcome back, Mom. Welcome back, Chad, ' " Marge chided her youngest daughter. Traci's bottom lip curled slightly, but she apologized. "Sorry. Welcome back. Where's the food? Lori said that you were going to pick up some." In our haste to get to the post office, Marge had scribbled out a note for Lori, explaining where we went. "Afraid we got sidetracked. Why don't you go ahead and order it for us, though I am not that hungry," Marge told Traci. Asking Traci to use the phone was the same as inviting an alcoholic to an open bar. She spun to comply with her mom's request, only to spin back around after taking a couple of steps. "Where's Rose?" "She's spending the night at Pollyanna's," Marge answered. A grin spread across Traci's face and she asked, "Oh? Does that mean I should be ordering for Slave instead of Lori?" Shaking my head, I said, "No. I don't think your mom and I are in the mood for a repeat of last Friday." Glancing over at Marge, I saw her nodding in agreement. The grin began to fade as Traci asked, "Is something wrong?" "Not really. I mean, there is, but there's nothing we can do about it. Tell you what, why don't you go ahead and place the order, and then I'll explain everything once Lori joins us," I told Traci. While Traci placed the order, Marge went upstairs to retrieve her eldest daughter. Marge and I then told the girls what had happened that afternoon regarding Rose. To Traci's credit, she waited until we finished before she began peppering us with questions. "Who were the letters from?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I only saw them for a few seconds, but I did notice that they were prepaid envelopes, though the address was handwritten." Marge, who could have easily read the letters while she had been comforting Rose, either had not or figured it was none of her daughter's business, because she claimed ignorance as well. "She didn't say anything when you dropped her off at Pollyanna's?" "Not really. She just told us that she wanted to spend the night with her girlfriend." Marge's voice had a twinge of hurtfulness in it; perhaps it was because her newest ward felt that she needed to seek comfort from someone other than her. Lori cut off Traci's next question by asking, "Are you going to need me to pick her up tomorrow?" Shaking her head, Marge answered, "No, Irene will bring her and Pollyanna over tomorrow morning." As Traci began to speculate about the letters, I stood up and went out to the backyard. While I did not need to have the cigarette, the smoke break did provide me some peace as I began to work out my feelings. I was rather unique in the CYA, in that I had grown up devoid of emotions. Perhaps it was because of my specialization, but I had resisted developing them. The first few batches of agents were raised almost clinically; interaction between the instructors had been limited to training. While we had learned at a much faster pace, it was not until the first batch was eight that they realized their mistake; our social retardation made it difficult for us to blend in with others. They rectified the situation by changing the type of contact that they had with us to more of a parental one. For some reason, though, I had found it difficult to come to grips with the new feelings that I was being exposed to and had found it easier to detach myself and mimic them, instead. When I had left the Compound and begun my new life, I had finally felt safe enough to let myself experience the wide range of human emotions. It was ironic, since it was also the time that I was in the most danger; gone was the protection that I had grown up with. I had discovered that I could still slip in to 'agent mode', wiping all emotions from me, but it was something that I tried to avoid at all costs. The day's events made me question if emotions were something that I wanted. When I had seen Chuck and Fran arguing, I had been worried that they would say something that they both would regret. The easiest move would to have been to have left them alone, but instead I had stuck my nose where it did not belong. My friendship to them had overridden the logical choice, so I had meddled in their affair. Why was Chuck my friend? Unlike the contacts that I had with the various subcultures at school, he being my friend served no practical purpose. He, David, Mike, John, and Bill were all guys whose company I enjoyed despite any difficulties that they brought. Seeing Rose suffer had upset me. Anger, frustration, pain, and worry were all emotions that I had experienced when I had seen Rose crying in the backseat. It had been aggravating that I had been stuck behind the wheel and was unable to comfort my friend. At least Marge had had the foresight to sit in back with Rose. If allowing myself to become close to others meant that I would also feel their pain, was it worth it? Would it not be better in the long run to resort to my previous state: detached and empty of emotions? "Chad?" Besides dropping my emotional guard, I had also learned to drop my physical one, as well. I had not even noticed Traci until she said my name. I looked up at my girlfriend. "Dinner's here." I blinked in surprise; Rose's situation had not taken too long to explain. My gaze fell upon the ashtray, which was on the patio table that I was sitting at; I realized I had been chain-smoking and that a lot of time had elapsed. Looking back up at Traci, I gave her an apologetic smile. My doubts about emotions quickly left me as I saw the love in Traci's eyes. The negative emotions were a small price to pay if it meant that I could experience the joy I felt from being with Traci. We accepted each other completely, flaws and all. I could only hope that my eyes reflected as much love for her as hers did for me. I suppressed the urge to stand up, take her in my arms, and give her a soulful kiss -- her tolerance for my smoking could only go so far. Instead, I settled for something equally as important. "I love you," I said to the most important person in my life. ------- Ever since Marge had suggested Chinese food, I had been looking forward to it. Perhaps it was because I was still preoccupied with Rose, but the food did not seem to taste as good as it should have. The meal was eaten in silence -- a rare occurrence, indeed -- and I washed the small amount of dishes we had used. After I had dried and put them away, I went into the living room to join the women, who were watching a situation comedy on the plasma; by their expressions, if I asked them what they were watching, they might have been hard-pressed to tell me. The day had been a rather tolling one, so I decided to call it an evening rather early. As I stood up, the Caspars' phone rang, and despite Lori being closer, Traci was able to grab it first. "It's Pollyanna," Traci informed us, pausing her conversation just long enough to let us know whom she was talking to. Since she was on the cordless one, she went over to her father's chair; the position she got in told me it was for the long haul. Marge had been amused when I had voiced my concern about the amount of time that her youngest would sometimes be on the phone. She told me that Traci's behavior was normal for the typical teenaged girl, and that Lori had even gone through the same phase. There had been a few occasions when Marge had discovered Traci asleep in bed; the phone still pressed to her ear. It had been a dark day, indeed, in the Caspar household when they had had to go down to one telephone line and limit the amount of time per phone call. When I left the living room, I kissed Traci on the top of the head and gave Marge and Lori hugs. I opted for a shower instead of a bath and made sure to spend extra time brushing my teeth. While sex might be out of the question that evening, I still wanted to give my love the tender kissing she deserved. I was in bed when Traci came into the room. Reaching over, I turned on the bedside light as Traci walked over towards me. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she said, "Rose is fine. She and Pollyanna will be coming over around ten tomorrow. Also, I know who the letters are from." I remained silent and gave her a look. She seemed to read it well, because she rolled her eyes and explained, "Rose told Pollyanna that she could tell me and that I could tell you, Sis, and Mom. Pollyanna is calling Michelle to let her know what is going on." Traci had been on the phone for a little more than an hour; a short conversation, indeed. Pollyanna calling Michelle explained how she was able to end the chat session so easily. Then again, there was a look of excitement in Traci's eyes, one that I had seen on many occasions. My curious girlfriend thrived on gossip, but she seemed to have learned that I respected other people's privacy. Since Rose had given her blessing, I nodded my head to indicate to Traci that she should continue. "They were from Rose's dad!" Of Traci's closest friends' parents, Errol Goodwin was the most enigmatic. I had only found a couple of documents relating to him: Rose's birth certificate and his marriage certificate. Errol did not seem to possess a California driver's license, and any work he did, it seemed to be done under the table. One factor that I found interesting was the difference in age between Errol and Violet. He was eighteen when he married Violet, whereas she was thirty-two. Rose was born just over a year after they wed. "You know that he walked out on them..." Traci's voice trailed off when she noticed me shaking my head. While I had been able to deduce that was the most likely explanation, no one had told me outright. Perhaps it was because we had spent so much time together, it was easy to forget that I had only entered their lives less than a half a year ago. Often, it was assumed that I knew stuff, and I had to be careful to remember if it was something that I had been told or something I had turned up in my research. Undaunted, Traci quickly explained, "Rose and her dad were very close; I mean, they pretty much did everything together. One day, Rose came home from school and discovered her dad gone. Her mom told her that he had walked out on them and had said that he would never see them again. Well, Rose could not believe it, at first, but as time went by and she did not hear anything from him, she slowly began to accept it." "Anyway, the letters that Rose got were from him. She's not positive, but from what she read, it sounds like he tries to write to her at least once a week. Each letter starts with an apology for not being strong enough to continue living with her mom. Also, from the tone of the letters, it seems like he is pretty much resigned to Rose hating him, since she has not written back to him. He writes what he has been doing and ends each letter saying that he hopes that Rose will forgive him, and that he will always love her." Traci's eyes began to moisten and she said, "Oh Chad, it is so sad! For the past four years, he must have been writing to her and thinking that the reason why she has not responded was because she hated him." Sitting up, I reached out, took Traci into my arms, and hugged her. My sign of affection seemed to stave off any tears, because after she broke the embrace, she gave me a loving smile. She stood up and headed to the bathroom to begin her nightly routine. I let my head fall back into the pillow, and I began to review the day's events. When Traci joined me in the bed, I gave her a goodnight kiss, and she rested her head on my shoulder as she snuggled up to me. When she drifted off to sleep, I followed her shortly. ------- It was just after seven when I woke up the next morning. Thankfully, Traci was a sound sleeper, so she did not wake up when I untangled myself from her. When I got to my feet, I debated about wearing something, since the only other people in the house were my lovers. However, I decided that I wanted to do something that I had not done for a long time: make breakfast for everyone. The idea of being around hot grease without any protection did not seem prudent, so I donned my robe. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I slipped my cigarette case and lighter into the robe's pocket, then left the bedroom. I was glad that I had decided to wear something when I stepped out into the backyard; it was a chilly morning. I had marveled at the warm days a month prior, but that was before the winter storms began to blow in. It had been a few days since it had last rained and the ground was still wet, which seemed to be the source for the low temperatures. One cigarette later, I was back inside the warm house. It seemed that I was not the only one taking advantage of the absence of Rose; Marge was at the counter, slicing something. She had her back to me, so I stealthily approached her, careful to stay out of her reach until she set down the knife. Once she did, I moved up, wrapped my arms around her waist, and began to nuzzle her neck. "Mmm. Good morning, Chad." I was now able to see that Marge had been slicing a peeled banana; various fruit were set about the counter, and it appeared that she was preparing a fruit salad. As my mouth began to work up from her neck to her earlobe, my right hand began to work its way underneath her terrycloth robe. "Stop that," Marge protested lightly, giving my arm a playful slap. "But you just look so sexy when you wear this," I murmured softly. Marge let out a snort of disbelief regarding her attire. The yellow terrycloth robe that she wore was old, tattered, and had a few faded stains. Despite numerous attempts by her daughters to give her newer nightwear as gifts, she more often than not wore the yellow robe. Marge had confided in me that the robe had once belonged to her sister, Melody. My hand had been successful in finding its way underneath the robe, and I began to fondle her left breast. Marge flinched slightly when my cold hands made contact with her flesh, but she let out an appreciative moan when my thumb made contact with her sensitive nipple. Thrusting her hips back, she began to grind against my hardening cock. While the previous afternoon's events had been emotionally draining, I seemed to have recovered and was rather randy. After Marge had untied her robe, she turned around and wrapped her arms around my neck. When she pulled me into a kiss, my lips remained closed. I had skipped brushing my teeth, since I had planned to have a few cigarettes before Traci woke up. Marge's prodding tongue made its way past my lips and into my mouth. As our tongues dueled, my hands cupped her firm buttocks and began to knead them. When we broke our kiss, I gave Marge an apologetic smile, which she dismissed with a roll of her eyes. Reaching down, she began to untie my robe. When she finished, she let her robe drop to the floor, and I followed suit. Our hands began to freely roam over each other's bodies, and it appeared that we both had the same idea, as our kisses began to make to make their way south. Marge thought she had me beat when she suddenly sank to her knees and gave me a triumphant grin. Her victory was only transitory, because I reached down and easily lifted her into the air. A squeal of surprise escaped from Marge as I set her down on a clear section of the counter. Before Marge had the chance to escape, my lips latched upon her right nipple. My teeth lightly nipped at it, while my tongue quickly brushed back and forth over the tip. Placing my hands on the countertop, I essentially pinned her in. Marge removed my hair tie and began to run her fingers through my hair. Unlike her youngest daughter, she did not criticize my choice of letting my hair grow out. After I gave Marge's left nipple the same treatment, I began to trail kisses down her abdomen. Marge parting her thighs signaled me that she was content where she was and no longer a flight risk. My hands went to her kneecaps as I bent my knees, drawing my head level with her delightful sex. Her swollen lips and the dampness that had begun to creep out told me that she was aroused. While there had been times in the past that her wetness had been much greater, she was excited nevertheless. My tongue encircled her outer lips a few times, and I watched as her inner lips began to unfold. I helped matters along as I parted her lips with my tongue and swiped the tip up through the center to her clit, savoring the sweet nectar that I collected. Inspiration hit me, so I looked up and asked, "Do you have a douche?" Marge had her head back, but it suddenly snapped forward, her eyes wide in alarm. "Yes, why?!?" she responded, the worry in her voice highly noticeable. Stront vir breins! Asking a woman if she had a feminine hygiene product, especially after I had begun cunnilingus, had to be one of the dumbest moves that I had made. It ranked right up there among my teasing Traci about Fran. I tried to comfort Marge with a reassuring smile as I replied, "I was just checking." I think that my resumption of eating out her pussy seemed to put her mind at ease that I did not find her scent or taste offensive. Once Marge's inner lips seemed fully parted, I withdrew my face from her pussy and looked at the collection of fruit that was beside her on the counter. Grabbing a couple of grapes, I inserted them into Marge's opening before lowering my head and biting into them. As the juices from the grapes and Marge intermingled, I slurped it up and used my tongue to gather up any remains of the fruit. I repeated the process a few times before moving on to the honeydew. Marge had only used half of the melon for the fruit salad, so she watched with an amused grin as I grabbed a knife and chopped off a slice. After I peeled off the skin, I took the honeydew, brought it to her pussy, and began to draw the tip through her folds. I had made sure the slice was somewhat thick so I was able to insert it partly into her vagina. I took a few strokes inside her pussy before Marge reached down, took ahold of my hand, and brought the honeydew up to her lips. Giving me a wink, she stuck out her tongue and began to lick around the tip. Following a few swipes with her tongue, she brought the melon into her mouth and began to suck on it as if she was giving it a blowjob. The fellatio that the honeydew received ended abruptly as Marge brought her teeth down and bit off a sizeable chunk of the melon. A small giggle escaped through Marge's closed lips as I gave a mock shutter over the demise of the poor honeydew. Marge chewed the fruit a few times until I leaned in and gave her a kiss. It was a unique experience to have our tongues duel among the juice and chunks of the melon. When we broke the kiss, I chewed the remnants of melon that had migrated to my mouth; swallowing, I licked up a trail of juice that had escaped from Marge's lips. Taking the remaining section of the honeydew slice, I slid it as far as I dared into Marge's pussy. Pressing my face against her sex, I took the melon into my mouth and began to consume the fruit, slowly withdrawing it from her vaginal opening. While I did swallow most of the melon, I did keep some in my mouth and repeated the kiss with Marge, this time passing some of the fruit to her. I was peeling a banana when Marge let out an audible gasp. I turned my head to her and saw that she had a look of surprise on her face. Following her gaze, I turned to see Slave at the entrance of the kitchen in first position. It appeared that Lori was the one that had come downstairs and stumbled across her mom and me, because I spotted her jeans and shirt folded neatly besides Slave. When I looked back at Marge, I saw that a mischievous grin had replaced her previous expression. It was interesting, the nonverbal communication that Slave and I had developed in a relativity short amount of time. It only took a couple of hand signals to have her stand up, walk across the floor to join us, and have her resume first position. I then resumed peeling the banana and -- after tossing aside the skin -- brought the fruit to Slave's mouth. When she parted her lips, I slid in the banana into her mouth, upon which she proceeded to give the fruit a mini-blowjob as Marge had done earlier to the honeydew. Once I was satisfied that the banana was coated with enough of Slave's saliva, I took the end of the banana from Slave's mouth and transferred it to Marge's pussy. Since it was less rigid than the honeydew, I did not insert it as far as I had done with the previous fruit. When I ate the banana, I swallowed the section that had stuck out from her. Marge's vaginal control was evident, as the portion that had been inserted into her was pretty well mashed. After using my finger to scrape out any leftovers I could find and transferring them to my mouth, I turned and squatted further down to kiss Slave. Slave appeared hungry, since her tongue scooped a majority of the banana from my mouth to hers. Breaking the kiss with Slave, I turned my attention back to Marge's pussy. As I positioned my head between her thighs, I took my hands and guided her legs over my shoulders. I do not think Marge suspected anything until she felt my hands began to slide around to her buttocks. "Oh shiiiiiiit!" Marge squealed when I quickly hoisted her into the air; my face pressed against her pussy. She flailed slightly at the sudden shift of positions, but steadied herself when she reached down and grabbed ahold of my head. Once I felt certain that she had settled down, I pivoted around until I was facing towards Slave. Marge's pulling of my hair provided a good distraction as Slave resumed her oral ministrations, this time upon my manhood. As confident as I was in my physical capabilities, Marge's tension from fear of falling was a huge hurtle to overcome to bring her to orgasm. Nevertheless, I ate her out for a good eight minutes before turning back around and setting her down. One of the reasons why it took so long was that I had to wait until my cock was not encircled by Slave's lips; a shift in her technique, where she began to tongue my balls while pumping her fist on my cock, provided me the opportunity to move. "Bastard!" Marge called me with humor in her voice and a grin, as she hopped down from the counter. She was somewhat breathless, but it was difficult to tell how much was from me eating her pussy or the perceived risk she had been in. She then looked down at Slave and commanded, "Slave, get up on the counter." "Yes, Master's Lover," Slave answered after her eyes darted over to me and I had given her a barely noticeable nod of my head. Marge did not appear to mind that Slave deferred to me before answering; she had heard about rule number eight, which stated that 'Slave shall submit only to Master or those whom he explicitly designates'. I helped Slave up onto the counter -- a task that was much easier than with Marge, since she was a willing participant and upright. Marge moved to beside Slave and began preparing the fruit that she would need. In addition to the grapes, honeydew, and bananas, Marge grabbed an apple, cinnamon, and a bottle of honey. While Marge was busy slicing the apple, I moved between Slave's legs and proceeded to make out with her. The experience was interesting, to say the least; I tasted my precum in her mouth while she tasted Marge's secretions intermixed with a jubilee of fruit -- and possibly the faint aftereffects of my morning cigarette. It seemed that we lost track of time while we explored each other's mouths, since it was not until Marge cleared her throat that we broke our kiss. I gave Marge an apologetic smile as I stepped aside and she resumed my place. Marge then proceeded to mimic what I had done to her earlier on Slave. When Marge's lips wrapped around Slave's right nipple, I was tempted to do the same to her left, but I decided to concentrate on Marge, instead. Brushing her hair to one side, I began to trail small kisses from the nape of her neck down the center of her back. My hands caressed along her back, as well, though with each pass, they slowly worked their way towards her front. By the time my lips had reached the small of her back, my hands had found their way to Marge's breasts and had begun to fondle them. They were only there for a short while, because I moved them down to her buttocks when my lips reached the crack of her ass. "Stop, Chad! I didn't have an enema," Marge said somewhat worriedly as I spread her asscheeks and had begun to worm my tongue towards her sphincter. "You showered this morning, right?" "Yes, but--" "No buts except for this one," I replied, giving Marge's cute ass a light spank to accent my point. Marge let out a groan, though I think it had less to do with my pun and more to the fact that my tongue snaked out and brushed against her rosebud. I probed Marge's asshole firmly with my tongue, careful not to penetrate it. After a minute or so of doing that, I removed my face and stood up. It appeared that Marge had inserted a slice of honeydew into Slave and had begun the process of eating it. I used Marge's preoccupation with the melon to slip over to the refrigerator. Vegetables should be included in a well-balanced diet, so I retrieved a cucumber from the vegetable drawer. I was able to select one whose circumference was only a tad thicker than my cock. Marge's face was still between Slave's thighs, so I stealthily made my way over to the microwave. I placed the cucumber inside the microwave and set the timer for ten seconds. I figured it was better to check the temperature after a short interval and repeat the process instead of risking overheating it. It took only a few times until I got the cucumber to just above body temperature. By now, Marge knew that I was up to something, but her fixation of licking up the honey that she had drizzled upon Slave's patch of pubic hair kept her distracted. As I made my approach towards Marge, I made a quick stop at the counter by the stove to retrieve the small bottle of olive oil that was kept there. I removed the bottle's cap and left it on the counter, since I knew that my hands would be full with the cucumber and oil. It was uncertain if Marge was deliberately ignoring what I was up to or not, but when I resumed my place behind her, it seemed that she was none the wiser as to what I had in store for her. I started off by pouring a tablespoon of oil at the crack of her butt and watched as it worked its way down to her asshole. Transferring the cucumber from my left hand to my right (so that I was holding both the cucumber and oil in my right), I took the forefinger of my now-free hand and inserted it between Marge's ass cheeks and allowed the oil to pool around her rosebud. When I began to massage her anus, I was careful not to penetrate her delicate little flower. The task was made easier to complete when Marge widened her stance. Satisfied that I had lubricated Marge's sphincter the best I could externally, I began to work on the instrument that was going to be inside of her. Fortunately, I was dexterous enough to coat three-fourths of the cucumber with the olive oil without getting any on my right. When I was finished with the oil, I set the bottle down beside me and began the process of introducing the cucumber to Marge's asshole. While the olive oil might have been extra-virgin, Marge's asshole was far from it; the tip of the cucumber slid into her without too much pressure. The moan that Marge let out was muffled slightly as she continued eating Slave's pussy. Marge's moans intensified as I began to work the cucumber deeper into Marge's asshole; the circumference quickly surpassed the size of my cock. "Can I come, Master?" I was surprised that Slave had reached the point of orgasm so quickly. Since she was forbidden from pleasuring herself without my permission, I knew that she had not been manipulating herself while she had been sucking my cock. The fact that I had felt her using both of her hands on me reinforced that point. Still, it was quite a feat for Marge to bring Slave to the edge of ecstasy faster than I had done for her. Then again, she had not ruined the mood by asking Slave if she had a douche. "Not yet. You shall wait until Marge comes, then you are free to come as often as you want." "Yes, Master," Slave panted, unsuccessful in her attempt to hide her disappointment. Slave's knuckles began to turn white as she gripped the countertop tightly, trying to hold off her orgasm the best she could. Marge did not help Slave prolong her orgasm, as she began lap at Slave's pussy in earnest. In the past, Slave had always been successful in postponing her orgasm until instructed. I wanted her to keep her perfect record intact, so I focused on getting Marge off. The fingers on my left hand were still slick with oil -- not that it was needed, as I discovered Marge's clit was already wet. My fingers rubbed Marge's clit more or less in the same tempo as I fucked Marge's ass with the cucumber. It only took a couple of minutes for Marge to come, whereas Slave followed her less than half a minute later. ------- "Jesus, we sure made a mess," Marge commented. A half hour had passed since I had brought the cucumber into our food play. During that time, we had experimented with all types of combinations of food and partners. My personal favorite was when I was on the floor, on my back, with Slave on top of me. She had inserted an assortment of fruit inside her pussy, and it was my task to retrieve it with my mouth. It was made even more difficult with Slave sucking my cock and Marge fucking Slave's asshole with the cucumber. The end came when I did; my first blast of cum sailing three feet into the air before Marge wrapped her mouth around my cock, Slave's tongue lapping at my balls. I almost dreaded standing up. Not only had lying on the kitchen floor provided me safe haven from the cucumber finding its way to my asshole, it was warm. The kitchen and all of the bathroom floors were heated, thanks to the hot water from the fuel cells. Whenever the outside temperature fell below sixty degrees, hot water was automatically diverted to run through copper coils underneath all of the rooms whose floors were tiled. When I did stand up, I went ahead and picked up the cucumber that had been tossed aside. I brought it over to the kitchen sink and began to wash it off. "What the hell are you doing?" Marge asked incredulously. "Washing it off. Why waste food?" Instead of answering me, Marge walked over and grabbed the cucumber from me. She then tossed it into the pail that we kept near the sink for our compost pile. "You know, when Rose sees that, she'll just dig it out and..." I did not complete my observation as Marge retrieved the discarded vegetable and took it over to the cutting board. If I had not been already soft, the four quick whacks of the knife that Marge gave to the cucumber would have deflated any erection that I would have had. I felt myself wincing four times in sympathy at the quick demise of the once phallic cucumber. Before Marge tossed the pieces of the cucumber back into the pail, she watched me with satisfaction as she squeezed them to a pulp. When she was finished, she turned to me and said, "I don't care if you wash and peel it; there's no way I am going to eat something that has been up my ass." I almost made a wiseass comment about her sucking my cock on previous occasions after it had been up her ass, but the way she had 'Bobbited' the defenseless cucumber was seared into my memory. In addition, the times she had my cock in her mouth after being in her asshole, she had had an enema beforehand. It was that thought that reminded me to tell them, "When you two go upstairs, make sure you douche and have an enema." "Why?" Lori asked. It was after I had come that I had restored Slave back to Lori. Her mother smiled at her and explained, "Chad's worried about bacteria. Non-water-soluble fats do not make good sexual lubricants, because they can trap bacteria. Also, sugar can encourage bad bacteria and yeast growth, hence the douche; though, you would think he could be a tad more diplomatic when asking if I had any." I felt myself blushing at Marge's reminder of my faux pas. The wink that Marge gave me was noticed by Lori, and she arched an eyebrow. "I'll tell you about it in the shower." "Oh? Are you going to want me or Slave with you in the shower?" Lori asked. Marge tilted her head slightly and thought about it for a few seconds before answering, "Perhaps Slave. After all, 'Why waste an enema.'" Marge deepened her voice when she said the last four words, and the fact that she was somewhat parroting what I had said before was not lost on Lori and me. I just hung my head in shame while the two women began to chuckle. Marge then added, "Actually, I think it would be better if you stay the way you are. I don't know about you, but I'm drained, and I think being with Slave might be too tempting." Lori nodded her head, though I thought I detected a look of disappointment hidden in her hazel eyes. Of all of the Caspar ladies, it seemed that Lori possessed the most stamina when it came to sexuality, and she seemed far from being sated. As the two of them walked out of the kitchen with their arms linked, I began to think of other possible ways to satisfy Lori that morning. It took less than five minutes to clean up the mess we had created. Once I finished, I took a washcloth and cleaned myself the best I could. While a shower might have been more efficient, I really did want to cook breakfast myself and was afraid my absence might have allowed Marge to resume what she had been doing before my interruption. "Looks like you were busy this morning," an amused Traci said after she had entered the kitchen. I was cooking some linguica and had put on my robe, so I was a tad taken aback by Traci's astute observation. The cooking that I had already done should have masked any traces of scent that our escapade had left behind. I glanced around the kitchen to see if I had missed something that betrayed our actions and, finding none, I said smiling, "Okay, I give. What gave us away?" Grinning, she pointed to Lori's clothes and Marge's robe, which I had folded and hung on the back of a couple chairs. In their haste to take a shower, they had left behind their articles of clothing. Also, as sticky as the two of them had been, it did not make much sense to put them on or even bring them with them. I smacked the palm of my hand against my forehead and exclaimed, "Doh!" "You can tell me all about it tonight," she said as she moved to join me at the stove. "Okay, I promise to give you all the juicy details later." Traci arched an eyebrow, which I kissed. It seemed my haste was for naught, as Marge and Lori did not return to the kitchen until breakfast was ready. Traci had taken their clothes up to their rooms and had commented that they were in still in their shared bathroom upon her return. Fortunately, again thanks to the fuel cells, they would not have to worry about running out of hot water. Breakfast was not quite as the previous evening's dinner had been, but there still something out of place. While Rose had stayed over at Pollyanna's house many times before, her absence seemed foreboding. Traci tried to lighten the mood by asking her mom and sister what had happened that morning, but both women kept deferring the questions to me. While I kept mum about the kitchen encounter, the way that Marge seductively ate her cantaloupe was not lost on my girlfriend. Marge and I were washing and drying the dishes when Lori asked, "Do you need me to do a grocery run, or should I wait until Rose gets back?" Lori was the one who most often took Rose grocery shopping. Saturday mornings after breakfast were when they typically did their shopping. After glancing at the time, Marge said, "Hmm, I think I'll go ahead and have you pick up some stuff, then you and Rose can make another trip later." I slid over and took over washing the dishes while Marge began to look around the kitchen, listing off stuff to pick up while Lori wrote it down. When Marge mentioned cold cuts, Lori voiced her concern. "I don't know," Lori said slowly. "I mean, Rose prefers to buy it whole and cut it herself. She says it is cheaper that way." "What she doesn't know won't hurt her. We'll just make sure to keep her out of the kitchen while I prepare lunch today," Marge replied. "Don't forget fruit. Looks like we might be low on that. While you are at it, maybe a few twelve-inch cucumbers," suggested Traci with a grin. The three of us looked at Traci in surprise before we began to crack up. It seemed that, from the little tidbits that were dropped during breakfast, Traci had pieced together what had happened earlier. After we had stopped chuckling, a wicked idea popped into my head. The little church escapade had taught me the follies of making plans in haste, so I took a minute to go over the pros and cons. It was risky, but it seemed doable. "Lori, is there a store nearby that you and Rose don't frequent often?" "Unless they have something on special, we usually don't go to Vons," she answered. After a moment's pause, I said, "Very well. I think Eve and Rachel should do the shopping." Traci's eyes grew as wide as saucers when she realized I had directed my statement at her. ------- "Do you think that was wise?" Marge asked me. I let out a snort and replied, "Wise? No. Harebrained scheme that will most likely backfire? Yes." Marge and I were sitting at the table in the breakfast nook; the girls had left to do the shopping. It had taken me a good while to explain my idea, especially to my girlfriend. It was when I started to repeat myself for the third time that she stopped me and told me she understood the instructions. She assured me that everything would be okay and that she knew that, if she messed up, it would be the last time she would ever be dominant over her sister. After taking a sip of her coffee, Marge asked, "Has Lori ever said no to any of the scenes?" Shaking my head, I answered, "She hasn't. Then again, I had her fill out an extensive questionnaire to get an idea of her limits. While I've pushed at a few, I've not asked her to do anything that she'd listed that she didn't want to. Are you thinking that I should?" Marge thought about it for a moment before saying, "No, it wouldn't work. She knows you too well, would figure out that you were testing her and answer accordingly." I nodded in agreement. We were discussing possible ways to test Lori's limits when we heard the front door open. As we started to get up, Rose and Pollyanna came into the kitchen, followed by Irene. "Tadaima," Rose announced. Marge replied, "Okairinasai." While everybody had been studying Japanese for our upcoming trip, Rose had been able to pick up the more common phrases from watching anime. She had begun to use the phrase for 'I'm back' for the past month, which prompted Marge to remember to reply with 'welcome home'. Marge moved to the redhead and gave her a warm hug. When they broke the hug, Marge added, "I've already got lunched planned out, so I'm not taking no for an answer, okay?" Rose gave a small frown, but said, "Okay. In that case, Polly and I are going upstairs. I want to work on my letter to Dad. Traci did tell you about him, right?" "Just that he has been writing weekly ever since he left," Marge replied. Rose gave Pollyanna a cryptic glance before turning her attention back to Marge and nodded. Rose then came over and gave me a hug before she and Pollyanna left the kitchen. "Would you like to stay for some coffee or tea?" Marge offered Irene. "Let's see, would I like a hot beverage while you pump me for information? Sure, why not," Irene replied with a smile. Marge was flustered for a few seconds, but recovered gracefully. "Now, what makes you think I would do something like that?" she asked with a grin. "Oh, just these past six years of dealing with your inquisitive curiosity, that's all." Since I was closer to the coffee maker and hot water pitcher, I waved Marge off when she started to approach. She and Irene sat down at the table in the breakfast nook. "And your choice of hot beverage?" I asked as I got out a mug. "Herbal tea, if you have it." I started listing off what we had. "Bengal Spice, Black Cherry Berry, Cinnamon Apple Spice, Country Peach Passion, Cran--," Irene chuckled and cut me off. "Surprise me." In light of the morning's events, I decided on Tropic of Strawberry. "Would you care for some grapes?" I asked as I began pouring hot water over the tea bag. "No, thank you. Are you okay, Marge?" My reference to the grapes had been an inside joke directed to Marge, but my attention had been focused on preparing the tea, so I had not seen Marge was drinking her coffee. While I had been caught off guard plenty of times while taking a drink, it had never been while I was drinking something hot. I felt horrible when Marge began to choke slightly on her coffee. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Marge reassured Irene after she quickly recovered. I opened up a package of shortbread cookies and arranged them on a plate before bringing it over to the table along with the tea, saucer, and spoon. Marge declined my offer to top off her coffee. When I started to gather up my mug of green tea to leave the two women alone, Irene stopped me. "You might as well stay, too. After all, it will save Marge from having to repeat what I tell her." "Geeze, you make me sound as bad as Traci," Marge joked. "Like mother, like daughter," Irene replied. "Really, Chad, you should stay. I've heard how much you have done for Rose; you should know what happened last night." I was put into an interesting dilemma. While I tried to find out as much information that I could about people that I came into contact with, once I determined that they did not pose a threat, I stopped my research and allowed them some semblance of privacy. Indeed, I was curious about what happened after I dropped Rose off, but if she wanted me to know, she would tell me. In addition, Irene might feel freer to disclose more information if I was not there. My hesitation lasted only for a couple of seconds, but in the end, I found myself taking a seat next to Marge. "Interesting weather we have been having lately," Irene observed. Marge grinned and replied, "Yes, very interesting. Now, tell us what you know, you old witch." Irene smiled, and I assumed that Marge's jab at her Wiccan beliefs was an old one. "Well, as you know, Rose was a wreck when you two dropped her off. As close as Errol and Rose had been, it didn't surprise me. You know, when he just disappeared like he did, I honestly thought that Violet had done him in. It took me a good while until I was convinced otherwise." "A spell?" Marge asked. "Of course," Irene answered. "That, and I had Geoff ask one of his friends at the district attorney's office to look into it. Turned out that Errol did talk to a few of his friends about taking off, but none of them knew where. Still, you would have thought he would have mentioned it to me." Marge explained to me, "Irene and Errol have known each other since their daughters started kindergarten." Nodding her head, Irene said, "I remember clearly the first time I met him. It was at the first PTA meeting of the year, and he was the only father who showed up. When I saw him, I swore there was no way he could have a kid the same age as Polly. Anyhow, we hit it off quite well, and it was delightful that Polly and Rose became friends, as well. He thought that me being Wiccan was fantastic, but he warned me not to let Violet know. Not that it mattered; I think I can count the number of times I spoke to her on one hand, and even then, it was mainly on the telephone." Irene paused to take a sip of tea. "This is quite good," she observed. "Celestial Seasonings," I informed her. "Ah, yes, I should have known. They do have a good selection, but I don't think I've had this type before." Marge let out a theatrical groan that drew chuckles from Irene and me. "Oh, where was I?" Irene asked. "On the edge of my patience," Marge replied. Irene reached out and patted Marge's hand. "Really, dear, perhaps you should switch to decaf." "Or maybe juice instead," I supplied. Marge gave the two of us a dark look before commenting, "This is what I get when I sit down with an ancient hag and my wiseass daughter's boyfriend for something to drink." "Now that is twice that you have insulted me. Thrice, and I shall have to prove my powers to you," Irene told Marge. "Just a second, am I or Traci the wiseass?" One can only take so much teasing, but it appeared Marge had not reached her limit yet. "Do you really need me to clarify?" she asked me. I shook my head, and Marge shifted her attention to Irene, who patiently sipped her tea. "Well, there is not too much more to tell," Irene explained after waiting for a minute to go by with Marge staring at her. "Rose went to Polly's room and the two of them were holed up there for an hour. When they came out, Rose seemed to have finished crying, and we ate dinner together. We talked about what she was going through, and afterwards, we watched a documentary on PBS. Rose started to drift off halfway through, so Polly made sure Rose had fallen asleep in her bed, then called Michelle and Traci. You know, I think the only time Polly left her side was to make those phone calls." Marge and I found ourselves nodding. It made sense that Rose needed the person closest to her last night. She was lucky that not only did she have somebody like Pollyanna, but that Pollyanna's parents were supportive of her, as well. "Anyhow, Rose told me that you are adopting her. I think that is great. Geoff and I offered a couple of times to adopt or even just take custody of her, but she just kept turning us down." "She most likely didn't like the idea of having to look after a geriatric crone," observed Marge with a grin. Unperturbed, Irene replied, "No, I don't think that was it. I think that it had more to do with her girlfriend suddenly becoming her sister. After all, not everyone can handle having your sister being your lover, like some can." Marge was not drinking her coffee when Irene said this, but she could have just as well had been. Her reaction went from surprise to shock and then anger. "I'm going to kill Jean." "Why? Jean did not tell me a thing." "Then, who... how?" Marge sputtered. "My crystal ball," Irene answered. She then began to chuckle at Marge's look of disbelief. "Sorry, that was just too easy to pass up. If you must know, it was your aura." "Oh, so my aura just screams that my sister was also my lover?!?" Shaking her head, Irene explained, "Not like that, dear. It was at John's funeral, when you introduced me to Melody. You had just lost one of your soul mates and were weak. When her husband dragged her away from you, I could tell by the look in your eyes that you realized that you had lost another soul mate, as well. Now, your aura tells me that you have discovered a new soul mate, and a young virile one at that." Irene ended her explanation by looking directly at me. My look of confusion was once again counteracted by Marge's surprise. A slow grin began to draw upon Irene's face, and I knew the jig was up. Her insistence that I stay had nothing to do with saving Marge from retelling what she said, but to judge our reactions to her hypotheses. Not only that, she was laying them out while Marge was caught off guard, making it easier to read her. She was a very effective interrogator. Irene let out a small chuckle when I said, "Gaia, you're good." I then turned to Marge and added, "For somebody who is as good as you are at poker, I would think you would have a better poker face and be able to see through her bluffs." "Actually, it was Jean who told me about the two of you," interjected Irene, waving her finger and Marge and I. Marge had just started to recover from the revelation of our relationship, only to be shocked once again. "But-- How could she? I never told her... ," she sputtered. Irene's grin had not left her face, but she apologized, "I'm sorry, dear, that was just too good of an opportunity. Jean did speculate that she thought you and Chad might be 'getting it on'; she noticed that lately you have had a spring in your step, something that has been lacking since John passed." With all of the secrets that had been exposed within the past few minutes, Marge seemed to take some comfort with that. Irene continued, "And just so that you know, I do not think that there is anything wrong with having a sexual relationship with your sister. I myself have sex with my sisters. Granted, none of them are my biological ones, but even so..." Marge inquired, "What about Pollyanna?" Irene paused and seemed to weigh that question before answering. "I think I am safe in saying that, no, I am not sexually attracted to my daughter. The same could be said with her girlfriend. I guess I'm not a cradle-robber like some." Blushing slightly at Irene's grin, Marge tried to hide her embarrassment by taking a sip of her coffee. Irene then added, "However, maybe when they reach of age, then I might see them in another way. Take Lori for instance. As long as I have known her, I've been aware she was a pretty girl, but after she turned eighteen, I have begun to look at her in a different light. To me, it is as if she has blossomed into a new person. It is strange, if you think about it. It is the law of Man that decrees when a person becomes eighteen, they are considered an adult. You know better than us how much Lori matured when John became sick, and yet it was not until after her most recent birthday that I found myself being attracted to her." "Really?" Marge asked. Irene nodded, but clarified, "However, just because I might be attracted to her, it does not mean that I am going to try to seduce her. Geoff and I restrict our sexual activities to only those who belong in our coven." "Is his trip to Kobe still good?" I asked, shifting the topic the best I could. "Yes, and it looks like he can wriggle in an extra day before having to fly off to Bangkok." I nodded my head. When I saw Marge's look of confusion, I explained to her, "Mr. Huntington will be attending a conference on the environment in Japan. I thought it would be neat if we were able to meet up with him." "Oh really? I'm surprised Pollyanna hasn't said anything." Irene let out a chuckle and revealed, "Perhaps it is because she does not know. When Chad approached us about the trip, Geoff mentioned that he was going to be in Japan around that time. Chad suggested that we might want to keep that little fact away from Pollyanna." Snorting, Marge said to me, "You and your surprises." "More like secrets. Chad has a veil around his aura; while difficult to read, it seems that he has a great deal hidden," observed Irene. While I had hoped to shift the attention away from Marge, what I had not wanted was to have myself scrutinized. Fortune smiled upon me when the sound of the garage door opening providentially brought our conversation to a close. Traci and Lori came through the kitchen door carrying a few bags of groceries apiece. I got up and assisted them in bringing the rest into the house. Once we had finished unloading the groceries from the car, Lori began to put them away. I did notice her hesitation every time she came across an item that 'activated' the vibrator in her pussy. Traci did not ease Lori's worries by keeping a hand in her jacket pocket. Irene announced that she needed to head back home. As we made our way to the foyer to see her off, Marge shouted up the stairs to Pollyanna that her mom was leaving. Since Rose's room was the furthest back from the staircase, she must have had her door open, because the pair of them came briskly down the stairs. "Can I have forty dollars? We might go to the mall this afternoon," Pollyanna inquired when she came up to her mom. Irene fished out her wallet from her hemp-made purse and took out two twenties from it. As she started to hand the money to her daughter, she said, "I need you--" "--to promise me to check the labels and make sure I do not buy anything made in countries that have sweatshops," finished Pollyanna. She quickly added, "Sorry," when her mother pulled back the money and raised her eyebrow. "I know you know to do that, Polly. I was going to say I need you to pick up a quarter-pound of those Gummi worms that your dad likes from the candy kiosk in the mall, but perhaps I should just keep the money and do it myself." For a minute, Irene teased Pollyanna about the price to pay for jumping to conclusions before she seemed satisfied that her daughter was embarrassed enough and handed the money over. Irene waved us off when we started to walk her out to her car, and we bid farewell from the foyer. After she drove off and we closed the door, Pollyanna sighed and muttered, "My mom can be such a weirdo." ------- Chapter 39 "Sounds like a nice place to visit." - S.T. Coleridge It appeared that Rose was back to her normal self by Saturday afternoon. I do not know if it was from staying the night with her girlfriend or writing a letter to her father -- most likely a combination of both. Michelle arrived shortly after Irene left, and everybody hung out in the living room while Marge and Lori prepared lunch. Traci tried to bring up Rose's wayward father, but a few dark looks from Pollyanna persuaded her otherwise. After we finished lunch, we began to talk about the logistics of the seven of us going shopping. Since my birthday had passed, I was now allowed to join them. Lori excused herself and reappeared a few minutes later. "You can count me out," Lori announced. "I'm going to go over to Vicky's house and hang out with her while she baby-sits her brother." "Oh, shoot, and I thought Eve could come along and carry our bags," I replied with mock disappointment. In truth, I was pleased to see Lori doing something with her other friends. Over the past few months, she had been spending less time with them and more with us. It was important that she maintained her friendships with her peers, so I was glad to see that she was still doing that. Lori appeared to know that I was joking about Eve, and replied, "Maybe next time." "Cool. I haven't met her yet," Michelle observed. "Neither have I," added Pollyanna. I had, of course, told Traci what had happened at church, and she in turn had told Michelle, Pollyanna, and Marge. However, somewhere in the retelling, some of the facts were twisted. I think that it was when Eve's screams of passion were so loud that she interrupted the pastor that Rose had had enough, sat the three women down, and told them a more accurate portrayal. Even then, she seemed to sugarcoat the feelings that she had experienced that morning. I think the three women knew the truth laid somewhere between, and for the past week I had been teased over the debacle. It was small penance to pay for what I had put my redheaded friend through. Michelle asked, "Should I call Mom and see if she can take us in her minivan?" Shaking my head, I answered, "No. It will be tight, but I think if you, Traci, Pollyanna, and Rose sit in the back and Marge and I in the front, we can take the Scion." "You know, we wouldn't be having this problem if you bought a SUV instead of the shoebox," pointed out Traci. She then chuckled at the glare I shot her. Traci had heard my multiple tirades about our classmates driving around alone in the gas-guzzling sport utility vehicles. "Okay, so we'll leave in ten minutes?" I asked, to which I received more than one look of surprise. Traci seemed to speak for the majority when she explained, "It should take us at least an hour to get ready." "Hmm, that would only leave us with three hours for shopping, and I was wanting to swing by Big 5," I commented. Lori, who had remained standing once she had reentered the room, began to frown slightly. When I gave her a quizzical look, she waved me off and said, "It's no big deal. I was just thinking that I needed to go there, as well." "Tell you what," I said slowly, running my schedule through my head as I spoke. "Why don't the two of us go to the one in San Luis tomorrow morning, unless you were after something that was on special?" "No, it can wait until tomorrow. I just want to check out their track shoes and maybe pick up a few more workout outfits." "Coolio. I believe the Unitarian Universalists have a service at ten, and we can drop you off there or at the United Church of Christ, if you want," I offered Rose. When she arched an eyebrow, I clarified, "When I say 'we', I mean Chad and Lori and not Doug and Eve. I promise not to even leave the car." Rose thought about it for a few seconds before turning to Pollyanna and asking, "You wouldn't mind, would you? You could always come along." "Silly, of course I don't mind. I'll be fine here. Besides, if I get lonely, Mr. Felix can keep me company," Pollyanna replied before letting out a squeal of surprise. Since the two of them were sitting across from me, I was unable to see what Rose did to her girlfriend under the table to invoke such a reaction. We began to chuckle at their antics. "Okay, we'll leave in fifteen... twenty minutes," I said, changing the time after receiving a glare from Traci. There was a little bit of grousing as we got up from the table, but no outright objections. Before I headed back to the bedroom, I stopped to ask Lori, "Will you be rejoining us for the game tonight?" Lori nodded and asked, "Would you want me home sooner just in case people show up before you get back?" "No, I don't think that's necessary. Everyone knows that Bill is working till six, and we weren't going to start till then. Besides, if there are any early birds, they know that they can call Traci's cell and find out what is going on." I then wrapped my arms around Lori and gave her a soulful kiss. I kept her in my arms after we broke it and told her something that I had not told her often enough: "I love you." "I love you, too," she said with a grin on her face. She then added, "You had better get going. Tick-tock, tick-tock." ------- Thirty minutes later, I pulled out of the driveway. I was mildly annoyed with Traci; the bathroom door somehow found itself locked while she had been in there. A washcloth could only do so much, and I had needed to take a shower. While it would have been mere child's play to bypass the lock on the door, it was faster just to use the hall bathroom instead of messing with it. Also, with access to the walk-in closet denied, I was limited to the clothes that were in the bedroom dresser. I decided to keep the jeans that I had put on after Irene left and donned a new shirt. I found my aggravation slowly fading away as I drove to the mall. While some of it could be attributed to the Black Eye Peas CD that we were listening to, I think it was my glances into the review mirror that did the trick. Pollyanna sat behind me, with Rose sitting on her lap. In spite of the seatbelt that they both shared, Pollyanna had her arms wrapped protectively around Rose's waist. If we were to get into an accident, I would not be surprised if the seatbelt failed before Pollyanna's arms did. Next to them sat Michelle and then Traci, who had her arm draped around Michelle's shoulders. It was an innocent sign of affection, like holding hands, both of which Traci had been doing less of with Rose and Pollyanna. I guessed Traci figured it was still 'safe' to do stuff like that with Michelle. The fact that my girlfriend still had not realized the feelings that Michelle harbored for her made her all the more loveable. Shopping at the mall went faster than I had expected. Perhaps it was because we skipped over the stores that catered to men's fashion; I figured that my needs could wait until we were not pressed for time. Rose found a very attractive green dress and seemed reluctant to purchase it. It was not until Pollyanna told her how well it matched her eyes that Rose finally decided to buy the dress. While I noticed her looking at the price, it seemed that she went out of her way not to look at the label. Perhaps she was afraid to find out that it was from one of the countries that Irene had prohibited Pollyanna from buying from. It was at Claire's that some of my purchases were questioned. I had hoped that Traci would have been preoccupied with her shopping in the accessory shop to notice what I bought, but I was wrong. "Why the heck do you need a blonde wig?" Traci asked. I figured that 'for my JIB (Jack-in-the-Box)' would only raise more questions, so I said, "Maybe I might want to have you dress up like Pollyanna." "Oh, Chad! Why settle for imitations, when you can have the real thing? All you need to do is ask," Pollyanna said in a sultry voice. She and Rose had overheard our conversation and now began to giggle, especially after Traci shot them with a glare. "And the earrings? Just get your ears pierced instead of buying those magnetic types." I shrugged and replied, "I'd figured I would try the look out before committing myself and poking holes in my head." While I had not wanted to be seen wearing either the earrings or tinted sunglasses that I had bought, I figured I could get away with donning them for the rest of the shopping trip and then storing them once I returned home. They were disposable items that would be useful if I ever needed to come up with a quick disguise. After the mall, we had enough time to do some shopping at Costco. When we entered the bulk warehouse store, we paired off: Rose and Pollyanna, Traci and Michelle, and Marge and I. Rose and Pollyanna headed off toward the frozen food section, and Traci and Michelle went to check out DVDs. Marge and I started in electronics, and I was tempted to replace the plasma with a larger and more energy-efficient LCD. I decided to hold off and wait a year to see how much more the prices would drop. We then began to walk through the different isles, adding stuff to the cart that caught our fancy. When we came across a couple sets of golf clubs, I paused to examine them. I must have appeared as Rose had earlier, as I hesitated a few times at them. Marge reached out and placed her hand on my forearm. "Chad, I told you it was fine to use John's clubs." John Caspar had owned a very nice set of Ping golf clubs. When I had commented on the excellent condition that they were in, Marge had confided in me that he had hardly used them. While it might be stereotypical, he had bought them so that he could play with his colleagues. His busy schedule made it difficult for him to make it out to the course; Marge and Lori had end up playing more often than he had. It was strange how I began to feel guilty. When I had moved to Central City, I seemed to fill a void in the Caspars' lives. Not only had I become lovers with John's daughters, but with his wife as well. The idea of using the dead man's golf clubs seemed taboo, as if it was the final straw on the camel's back. I prided myself in creating my own morals and not having a religion or society dictate them to me. So, why did a silly set of golf clubs affect me so? I had teased Marge that morning about concealing her emotions, but I must have appeared as easy to read as she had been. "Really, it is something that he would want you to have. I think he would have been happy knowing how well you would be taking care of them." It appeared that Marge was talking about more than just the golf clubs, so after making sure the coast was relatively clear, I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I love you," I said, just loud enough for her to hear. ------- We were unloading the car when Fran's father dropped off her and Chuck. Mike, David, and John arrived shortly thereafter and Lori pulled into the driveway right as Bill was parking in front of the house. Once everybody was set up around the dining room table, we all rolled dice to see who would be responsible for the pizza order. Michelle lost and (after a five-minute debate of what we wanted) had to take care of making the call and collecting the money. As always, the game session was a lot of fun. Each week, Marge's role as guide had become less important as the 'newbies' became more confident with the abilities of their characters. Still, Dyntenth continued to be quick on the draw, especially when barmaids flirted with Valcour. Even then, I suspected that Traci was keeping that up more for laughs than anything else. It was a quarter to twelve when we ended the game. Fran and Chuck caught a ride with Bill, and Lori ended driving Michelle home. While Traci and I were undressing for bed, I began to tell her what had happened in the morning. After giving her a brief synopsis, I started to give her a more detailed account when she stopped me. Taking my hand, she started to lead me to the bedroom door. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked. "We're going to the kitchen. How else can we act out what you did this morning?" "Pollyanna's here," I pointed out. Traci paused for a second before shrugging off my comment. Nevertheless, we put on our robes before leaving the bedroom. When we entered the living room, I began to head towards the sliding glass door that lead to the backyard. Traci stopped me by asking, "Where are you going?" "Well, I did have a cigarette when I first got up," I answered. Placing both hands on her hips, Traci tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, which drew a chuckle from me. She kept that pose while I walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. We then resumed our journey to the kitchen, and I let Traci believe that it was her influence that caused me to abandon the cigarette when, in truth, I had left the lighter and cigarettes back in the bedroom. I was setting up the material on the counter that we would need to act out the morning's events when Traci tapped me on the arm. It was not surprising to see Slave was there; the headlights from Lori's car had alerted me of her arrival a minute prior. Unlike before, she was fully clothed. I gave her a slight nod, alerting her that she had permission to speak. "Will you need my services, Master?" I turned to Traci and arched my eyebrow. She bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. After a few moments reflection, she said, "Okay, but no lezzy stuff. I mean, we'll skip over any symphonic stuff." "Sapphic," Slave and I corrected her in unison, which made Traci grin from ear to ear. From her behavior, I suspected she misused the word on purpose to see if she could draw a reaction from Slave, knowing what a logophile Lori was. By how hard she was trying to hide her sour expression, Slave seemed to have drawn the same conclusion and realize that she had not only spoken out of turn, but also that she had failed to address Traci as 'Master's Girlfriend'. I instructed, "Slave, I want you to go to my room and retrieve a couple of condoms and a tube of lube. You will find it in the drawer of the bedside table." "Yes, Master." As Slave began to stand up, Traci added, "Oh, grab my vibrator while you're there." Slave acted as if Traci had not spoken, so I repeated the request and received an affirmative answer. As soon as Slave was out of earshot, Traci asked, "What was that about?" "'Symphonic'? I'm thinking that she thinks you misused the word to provoke her and that I'll have to punish her." Traci's enigmatic smile made it difficult to tell if she had been devious or not. Her smile changed into a grin when I asked, "How did it go this morning?" "It was awesome! We did not see anybody that we knew, so we went ahead and did the scene. I'm not sure if she came or not." "Did she figure out the pattern?" I asked. Nodding, Traci replied, "I think so. At one point, she reached into the cart and picked up the bread, but I did not turn it off. She then went back to the bread isle and grabbed a different loaf, and I still kept it on. I figured that you would have left it on. Am I right?" Since I did not have much time to plan it out fully, I told Traci to turn on the vibrator every time Eve picked up an item on the list that started and/or ended in a vowel. If Eve picked up another item that started and/or ended in a vowel while the vibrator was still on, she was to increase the intensity. The only times it would be turned off is if she picked up an item that began and ended in a consonant or when she left the store. "You were right. How did it feel knowing that you were sexuality exciting your sister?" "She wasn't my sister, she was Slave... I mean, Eve." "Okay, 'Eve'. Nevertheless, there is something you need to understand about the Eve persona: it is basically Lori in a BDSM scene. I know that I created a back-story of her and Doug being from Paso Robles, but that was only for that day when we went to the church. Eve is just a step removed from being Lori; she has a loving mother, a bratty--" "Bratty?" "You thought I didn't notice you after lunch? From the way you fidgeted around, it looked like you dug out the remote from your pocket and then were disappointed when Lori didn't respond." Traci's look of innocence only lasted a few seconds before she let out a snort. "Yeah, I guess she must have taken it out after we got home." "And didn't I warn you that the remote was only to be used while in the grocery store, and that if you used it outside that I would not let you take charge of Slave or Eve again?" Traci's eyes grew wide and, panicking, she explained, "I thought you meant while she was driving! I didn't know you meant..." Traci's voice trailed off when she saw me shaking my head. "I was perfectly clear on this matter. Maybe it is because you think that the remote control vibrator is a toy. It's not. It's a tool to be used in Lori's BDSM training. Lori has expressed an interest, not only in public play, but also in being controlled by someone other than myself. You need to understand that, when Lori is not in one of her personas, then anything connected to BDSM should be avoided. Lori has progressed far faster than I expected in integrating her BDSM personas with her everyday self, but she still needs boundaries, and we need to make sure that we respect them. Do you understand?" Traci had a sad look on her face when she nodded her head. I felt bad chastising her, but I had needed to be unambiguous. I pulled her into my arms and gave her temple a kiss. "I'm sorry if what I said upset you. I'll understand if you want to put this off until later." Giving me a weak smile, Traci shook her head. At that moment, Slave came into view and resumed her position on the kitchen floor. Besides carrying the items that I had requested, she had also removed her clothes and was nude. It became apparent that she had overhead a portion of our conversation when -- after receiving a nod from me giving her permission to speak -- she said, "Master, your humble slave asks that you not punish Master's Girlfriend by not allowing her to be my or Eve's Mistress again. Eve quite enjoyed having Master's Girlfriend control her this morning, Master." I had not planned on following through on my threat of not allowing Traci to control Slave/Eve again, but decided to use it to my advantage. "Very well. I will cancel out your punishment for speaking out of turn with Traci's." Traci arched her eyebrow, most likely at the idea that I would 'punish' her. I gave the questioning eyebrow a quick kiss that seemed to earn me a smile. "Slave, Traci was unsure how many times you came earlier. Please tell us." "Yes, Master. Eve came once at the supermarket. Slave came twice with you and Master's Lover this morning: once while Master's Lover was eating her out, and another time when you were eating her out while Master's love was fucking her in the ass with the cucumber. In addition, while Lori became very horny this afternoon, she did not come, because she did not have your permission to do so." Traci had remained in my arms, but had turned to listen to Slave speak. As I slid my hand underneath Traci's robe, I started to ask Slave a question when Traci held up a finger and stated, "One cigarette." Of the numerous renegotiations that we had had over the cigarette-per-climax contract, the most recent addendum had been that I had to maintain physical contact with the person while they had their orgasm. It might have cost me a cigarette that morning, but I knew it would pay off in the long run, especially when I introduced Slave to fucking machines in a few months. I was about to mention the additional two that I had 'earned' from Marge, but Slave had said something that had piqued my interest. After I kissed Traci's raised finger, I asked Slave, "Please elaborate about Lori being horny." "Certainly, Master. It was while Lori was at Vicky's house. Al was taking a nap in his room, and the two of them were in the living room when Lori began to tell Vicky what had happened this morning. Lori found herself growing wet as she told the story, and about halfway through, Vicky began to caress herself. When Lori finished, Vicky told Lori that she was going to her room for a few minutes and hinted that Lori could join her or even use her parents' room if need be. Lori declined, and about ten minutes later, when Vicky returned, she waved her fingers under Lori's nose before seductively licking them. They then moved on to talk about other stuff, but Vicky did hint that she was interested in seeing Slave in action." I had not asked Slave to refer to herself in the third person, but it seemed that, since we had been talking about Lori, Slave, and Eve, she found it easier to use it. I was tempted to have Lori return to answer a few questions, but I figured that Slave could handle them. "Would Lori like Vicky to watch or even participate in a scene with you?" Slave was silent for a few moments while she thought about the question. "Lori is torn over the matter, Master. Part of her has always found Vicky attractive and does find the idea of having sex with her appealing. The problem is that Vicky is Lori's closest friend, even more so now that she knows about Lori's interest in BDSM. Lori's fear of losing that friendship is what makes her think that it would be a bad idea." Nodding, I asked, "Is Vicky bisexual?" "I do not think so, Master. Vicky has suggested to Lori that she is curious in experimenting, but Lori does not think she is truly bisexual. Then again, Lori did not know that about Druce, so who can say for sure." "What about this masturbating in front of each other? Have the two of them done that before?" "Maybe, Master. During the cheerleading sleepovers, after the lights have been turned off, it is quite common for girls to pleasure themselves. There are a few on the team that do more than that, but they know which members of the squad are willing to do more. It is something that has been going on ever since junior high." "Really?" I said interestedly, as I leaned forward to judge my girlfriend's reaction over this revelation. Traci turned her head away from me, and it was difficult to tell how much red in her ears was from embarrassment and how much was from the fact that I had been playing with body throughout the dialogue with Slave. It was pure happenstance that my fingers were in Traci's mouth when Slave reached the part about Vicky licking her fingers. My fingers had then migrated south and had not left her clitoris since. I had a few more questions, but I figured they could wait. "I think we should go ahead and begin. Slave, you are free to pleasure yourself and may come whenever you feel like it. Actually, I take that back. Try and only come when I'm making contact with you," I said with a wink. Slave smiled and nodded. I then asked Traci, "Can Slave use your vibrator?" Traci was silent a moment -- save for the heavy breathing my digital manipulations inspired -- before she replied, "Okay." "By the way, why did you need your vibrator?" I asked her. Traci slipped out from my grasp and grabbed something from the counter. "There is no way in hell that this is going up my ass!" Traci firmly stated. The cucumber that I had selected was smaller than the one that I had used that morning, but it was still larger than anything that she had had up her ass. I took her in my arms again and gave her forehead a kiss before telling her, "As you wish." ------- When I woke up Sunday morning, a part of me wanted to go back to sleep. While the previous night's events had made me five cigarettes richer, it had taken quite a toll on my stamina. However, it had been my suggestion that Rose check out the Universal Unitarians, and I would be a jerk if I slept in and had Lori take Rose to the church by herself. After all, Lori had been through more than I had the previous day. After I crawled out of bed, I gave my sleeping angel a kiss on the forehead before heading into the bathroom. I went ahead and got dressed after my morning routine, making sure that my cigarette case was full before slipping it and my wallet into my pants. I entered the kitchen (after a minor detour to the backyard to consume a coffin nail) to find Lori and Marge at the table in the breakfast nook and Rose and Pollyanna at the stove. It appeared my concerns for Lori's wellbeing were for naught; she was bright-eyed and bushytailed. Instead of having my usual green tea, I opted for a large mug of coffee, instead. Since breakfast seemed to be almost ready, I went ahead and had a seat at the table instead of trying to get in another cigarette. Rose prepared a rather large spread for breakfast. I do not know if she was overcompensating for not cooking for us the previous day, but everyone at the table made sure to compliment her. Pollyanna offered to wake up Traci, to which I told her not to bother. I figured my girlfriend would not mind reheating leftovers if it meant getting some much-needed sleep. After all, with the amount of food Rose had cooked, there were bound to be leftovers. "Would you guys mind if we stopped by a supermarket after service? We're low on fruit. We seem to be going through a lot lately." Rose was staring at me when she made her request and astute observation, so I hastened to swallow a mouthful of biscuits and gravy. However, Lori unblushingly replied that it would not be a problem. I quickly nodded my head as well, so Rose just gave me a coy grin before she resumed eating her hash browns. It never failed: Rose seemed to know (or suspect) everything that went on in the household. If I was truly paranoid, I would have been worried that she had somehow tapped into the hidden camera feed that was being transmitted back to the CYA. Traci did end up joining us as we were finishing our meal. Instead of collapsing into the chair like she usually did when she was tired, I noticed that she sat down somewhat gingerly. While her vibrator had been the only thing in her backdoor passage the previous night, it was an experience that she was not accustomed to. It appeared that I was not the only one to notice Traci's discomfort, as Marge arched an eyebrow in my direction. There was enough time after breakfast for me to have another cigarette, so I did. When I finished with the cancer stick, I stopped by the half-bath that was adjacent to the laundry room to rinse out my mouth with mouthwash. When I reentered the kitchen, I saw that Marge and Pollyanna were taking care of the dishes, so I assumed that Rose was upstairs getting ready for church. Traci was almost done with her breakfast when I went over to her. I waited until she swallowed her food before I leaned down and gave her a kiss on the lips. I had meant for it to remain chaste, but found myself Frenching her when her tongue sought entrance to my mouth. The taste of eggs and sausage was quite different from the fruit melody I had experienced the previous day. When I broke the kiss, Traci commented, "Mmm, minty." I asked softly, "Are you okay?" It took a few seconds for Traci to realize what I was talking about. When she did, she nodded and replied, "Yeah, five-by-five. Just a tad sore, that's all. I don't know how the hell I'm ever going to get your cock in there." There was a tone of disappointment in her voice that I did not like, so I sat down in the chair next to her. I reached out and used two fingers to guide her head so that she was looking directly into my eyes. "Buttercup, I need to know that you understand that I never want you doing anything that you are uncomfortable with. Don't think that I'll love you any less just because I can't have anal sex with you. By now, you should know that I could never get hard, let alone have sex with you, if I knew I was causing you pain or doing something that you did not like." Traci smiled at my use of the name of the princess from her favorite movie for her. She shook her head and said, "Oh, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it last night. I'm just slightly sore this morning. I just don't know how she can enjoy something as large as your cock in her ass." Traci nodded her head towards the kitchen sink to indicate her mom, but I thought I would have a little fun with her. "Oh? And how did you know that Pollyanna likes it when I fuck her in the ass?" Traci rolled her eyes at my dumb little joke, but a shit-eating grin spread across her face as her gaze shifted over my shoulder. My head hung low when I heard, "Hey, Polly! When did Chad start assfucking you?" Pollyanna did not hesitate a beat when she replied to her girlfriend, "I didn't know he had. It could have been last night. I thought it was Mr. Felix that was in my ass, but my head was in the pillow, so you tell me." Rose attempt to bust my chops had backfired on her, and everybody in the room began to laugh at the two of us. When Lori entered the kitchen, she asked what was going on. Traci explained it to her through tears of laughter, and at least Lori just gave us an amused smile instead of joining them. Rose and I quickly made our leave, with Lori slowly trailing behind us. ------- On the drive up to San Luis Obispo, the three of us discussed some pretty mundane topics. Rose did grow animated when she began talking about the school club. The first meeting was going to be held during lunch that coming Thursday in Ms. Miyazawa's classroom. An official name had not been decided on yet, and that was going to be one of the first orders of business during the meeting. Rose declined our offer to walk her in with a smile when we dropped her off at the Universal Unitarians' church. Rose, most likely, did not want to risk a reappearance of Doug and Eve, despite our reassurances to the contrary. I did not blame her for being cautious; it was my reckless behavior that had caused her undue stress during the United Church of Christ service. Big Five was only a short hop away via the freeway, and Lori and I were in the sporting goods store less than ten minutes later. For ten o'clock on Sunday, the store was somewhat crowded, but that was most likely due to the advertisements that had been carried in the Sunday paper. I had not had a chance that morning to check them out, so Lori and I paused just inside the entrance to look them over -- they were posted on a bulletin board. I do not think Lori noticed that my eyes lingered over the shotguns and hunting rifles that they had on sale. While I had not forsaken my vow of pacifism, part of me thought about buying a shotgun and teaching the others how to use it for self-defense. The sobering fact that, a majority of the time, the weapon was turned against its owner made me think otherwise. I knew that I could easily overpower anyone in the household, and a home invader -- even if they did not have my level of training -- would most likely do the same. It would most likely be easier to deal with them unarmed rather than handing them a weapon. Lori found a couple of workout outfits that she liked and added them the hand basket that I carried before we went to the shoe section. While she looked at and tried on different track shoes, I checked out the golf shoes. My initial plan of buying two pairs (one with metal spikes and the other rubber) was quickly aborted when I saw that they carried golf sandals. While I was fairly certain that I would not be allowed to wear them during competition, I might be able to get away with wearing them during practice, or at the very least, when I went golfing by myself. I could easily afford buying three pairs, but part of me took great delight in owning less than a quarter of the amount of shoes that Traci had. In the end, I bought a pair of regular shoes as well as the golf sandals, along with replacement spikes so that I could swap them out when I played courses that required metal or plastic. The golf gloves were in the golf section, and while I was looking them over, I asked Lori, "By the way, would you mind if Chuck used your old clubs?" Lori thought about it for a few seconds before shrugging and saying, "I guess. I mean, I've outgrown them and I figured that they would just go to Traci, but she has never been that interested in playing. Whenever we used to go to the club, Traci preferred to go swimming while Mom and I played. Then again, now that you are playing, I'm sure she will have a newfound interest in the sport." I matched Lori's smile at the idea that Traci would tackle something just to please me. "What about you? Are you still interested in playing?" Again, she shrugged. "Yeah, I kind of miss it. I haven't played, well, ever since Dad died. The country club membership was one of the first things that we dropped to save money. Plus, I just really didn't have any time to play." Lori was being modest when she said she did not have time. When John Caspar died, Lori had to grow up quickly. In a way, she became Traci's second mother, since Marge had to go to work and often worked long hours. Shopping, cooking, and cleaning were just a few of the responsibilities that she tackled. Those, on top of maintaining good grades in honor classes, cheerleading, and track; it was surprising that she had time to sleep, let alone find time to play golf. From what Marge had told me, not once had Lori ever complained. "Well, you should have some free time now. Why don't you select a set so that we can go and play," I suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't. Besides, I can always just use Mom's clubs." "What if I want to have a threesome?" I asked. When Lori cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, I clarified, "Golf-wise. With you and Marge." Grinning, Lori replied in a low tone, "Me and Mom, or Slave and Master's Lover?" Despite the number of people in the store, the golf section was fairly empty, so the chances of our conversation being overheard were small, especially if we kept our voices low. "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of you and Marge, but there is always the possibility of shanking our balls into the woods and having to go look for them." "Still, we could always just share a set of clubs. After all, we have gotten by just fine sharing your club." I let out a loud groan in appreciation of the bad pun she had made. After a few more times of trying to convince her into letting me buy her a new set, I gave up and we finished our shopping. We stowed our purchases inside the Scion and then began to walk over to Mervyn's. The department store was over a hundred yards from Big Five, but it seemed silly to drive there. Also, it gave me the opportunity to have a cigarette. Despite the fact it was my car, I had held off smoking inside of it. Traci had not outright forbidden me from smoking inside of it, but her repeated comments about the 'new car smell' made me come to that conclusion. After I had lit up, I took ahold of Lori's right hand in my left. The chances of one of our classmates seeing us were slim, and I figured it was well worth the risk. Signs of public affection were taboo for us at school, so I tried to make it up to Lori whenever I could. After a couple of drags of my cigarette, I commented, "You know, I could have sworn that I saw you last night in the kitchen a few times instead of slave." I glanced at Lori and saw her blush slightly. Instead of denying it, she asked, "You think Traci noticed?" The snort that I let out was accented by a puff of smoke that escaped from my nostrils. "Of the many wonderful qualities that my Traci has, 'observant' is not one of them. If it was, she would have noticed the way that Michelle looks at her by now." I had started to refer to Traci as 'my girlfriend', but changed it to 'my Traci' at the last moment. It seemed rather callous of me to call Traci 'my girlfriend' when the term could have been as easily applied to Lori or Marge. I loved and cared about all three of them, it was just that Traci seemed to possess a little bit more of my affection. Lori, however, did not seem to have noticed my sudden alteration when she replied, "That's true. Though, I think Mom suspects that there are times that I am in her arms instead of Slave." "Sounds like we're getting close to the point to retiring Slave," I observed. "Oh no! We can't do that. I mean, I know it might be a weak excuse, but Mom views Slave and me as two different people. Also, being Slave allows me to try things that I don't think I could do if I was just plain, boring Lori." I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and said, "Love, I can think of a lot of adjectives to describe you, but 'boring' isn't one of them." "Oh? Like what?" "Beautiful, smart, sexy, strong, funny, magnificent, nice, quick, tender, talented, modest, fascinating, charming, hard-working, generous--" "Okay, okay, enough all ready!" Lori interrupted me with a chuckle. After a quick drag on my cigarette, I confessed, "I was hoping that you felt that it was too soon to be getting rid of Slave. Heck, you have progressed far faster than I anticipated, and you know how much I like to plan things out. When I rush things, they don't always turn out for the best." Lori gave me a smile and replied, "Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, Eve did have a wonderful time in church, especially coming while being surrounded by all those people who did not have a clue to what was going on. It did suck to be you when Rose confronted you, but even then, she was mostly pulling your leg." "Keyword: mostly," I replied. "Even if I hurt her a little bit, that's unacceptable. I should have known that there was a chance that Rose would have objected to our little stunt and at least ran it by her beforehand." "She forgave you, didn't she? She seemed more pleased that she was able to pull one over on you than being hurt over it. After all, there is no way you can plan and predict how everyone will behave." 'Actually, I should, ' I thought to myself. One of the things that I had learned was to study my target to the point where I could predict their reactions when they were faced with certain obstacles. My intimate knowledge of those who I lived with -- feminine logic aside -- should have made predicting their reactions second nature. One thing that I could think of in my defense, besides my haste in planning, was that I had focused on Lori's BDSM needs and neglected Rose's spiritual ones. In the future, I needed to keep everybody in mind, lest I hurt somebody I cared about again. When we reached the sidewalk in front of Mervyn's, I still had a little bit of cigarette left, so we walked over to an ashtray so I could finish it. As I stuffed out the cigarette, Lori suggested, "I know we agree that it is too early to retire Slave, but what about a name change?" In the past, Lori had seemed to let me take charge of her BDSM training, so it was nice to see her take an active role in it. "Have you thought of one?" "No, not really. It is just that 'Slave' is rather generic. Anyhow, it would be your choice, not mine. I was just letting you know that, if you wanted to come up for a different name, you would find no objections from me." Nodding, I informed her, "Tell you what, I'll think about it, and perhaps I will christen you when the Dungeon is ready." I saw Lori hesitate to say something, so I took a guess and asked, "You're not keen on the name of the dungeon, are you?" When she nodded, I inquired, "You have a better name?" "Xanadu," Lori suggested. "'A stately pleasure-dome decree, '" I replied with a grin. Lori gave me a huge grin when I recited part of the poem she had gotten the name from. Our hands remained united as we entered the department store and I began my quest to purchase additional collared shirts for golf practice. ------- "Mmm, that's nice," I commented as Marge dug her fingers into my shoulders. We had just finished lunch, and I had decided to head out to the backyard to smoke my hookah. Marge had joined me a few minutes later and had me lie face-down on one of the poolside lounges. It was a tad crisp out, so I kept my shirt on when Marge began giving me a shoulder rub. "You're pretty tense," Marge observed. A witty comment about having her up on my shoulders the previous morning was quickly suppressed. Marge had a low opinion of her self-image, despite my repeated protests to the contrary. My initial observation that she could pass as Lori and Traci's older sister had been brushed aside as she pointed out what seemed to be phantom cellulite and winkles. Even in jest, I was afraid Marge would take any criticism that I had to heart, though I was fairly certain that Lori weighed more than she did. It was Marge's youngest daughter that was the source of my muscle tension. The 'no lezzy' clause had created some very interesting alterations to the kitchen reenactment. One thing that I had done to Traci that I had not been able to Marge was to bring her to orgasm while she was up on my shoulders. She seemed more comfortable with me holding her aloft and, while it took me nearly ten minutes to do so, I was able to get her off. Forgoing asking her about feminine hygiene products was most likely another contributing factor. Marge spent a good while on my neck and shoulders before working her way down my back. She would pause occasionally to take a drag of the honey-flavored shisha. Her hands slipped underneath my shirt to work on my lower back, and I felt my shirt began to rise up as her hands did. When my shirt was halfway up my back, Marge leaned forward and gave my exposed flesh a kiss. She then repositioned herself, and the next time she leaned forward, I felt the warmth of her bare breasts upon my back. "What do you think you are doing?" I asked lazily, enjoying the contrast between the cool air and the heat of her body. "Seducing you," answered Marge as she began to nibble on my neck. "Well, it's working. What if somebody sees us?" I asked. "I checked. The Cowans' are not here this weekend." "What about Chuck? What if he decides to show up early?" "Then we better hurry. As much fun as I had yesterday, there is just something about having the man I love shooting his cum inside of me." Marge was nibbling on my ear when she said that, and I felt my cock twitch in reaction. I decided to throw caution to the wind and rolled over when Marge prompted me to. After she shucked down my pants to my knees, she began to pump my cock until it was hard enough to enter her. It finally occurred to me why she changed into a skirt when she saw me coming outside with the hookah as she straddled me and guided my hardened cock into her moist pussy. With the skirt fanned out, it just appeared that she was innocently straddling me. Of course, that charade was soon broken as she began to raise and lower herself on my member (as if my being obviously depantsed was not clue enough). Chuck was due to come over in just over an hour, but I thought my concerns about him arriving early had been justified. Instead of trying to prolong my own orgasm and concentrating on getting Marge off, I decided just to lie back and let Marge do all of the work. I knew that the combination of smoking and fucking was something that I would not likely experience with Traci, so I made sure to enjoy it to the fullest. A couple of times after I had taken a rather deep lungful, Marge would lean forward and I would transfer the flavored smoke to her. She also would pause while I was seated in her and take a drag herself and then transfer it to me. These exchanges ran contrary to my goal of getting off quickly, but they were well worth it. When I shot my cum into Marge, she seemed to be close to orgasm as well. She rode my cock a few times as it slowly deflated before she dismounted me. When Marge started to stand, I reached out and stopped her. It was a tad difficult to maneuver, especially with my pants still around my knees, but I was able to get her lying on her back on the lounge with me kneeling beside it. After I moistened two of my fingers on my right hand, I reached under her skirt and sought out her entrance. She was already soaking wet from her juices and my discharge; my fingers easily slipped into where my cock had previously been. Crooking my fingers, I sought out her G-spot. Once I found it, I stroked it softly a few times before I began to finger-fuck her. As I slowly increased my pace, I made sure that the pad of my fingertips made contact with her G-spot each time. With my left hand, I pressed down on her pelvis through the material of her skirt. While the Cowans might not have been home, my other neighbor, Craig Falmonz, was. Even if he were unable to look down into my backyard, the loud scream that Marge let out would have alerted him if he were outside. I felt the inner walls of her pussy spasm around my fingers as my palm was awash with her ejaculate. When I withdrew my fingers, she reached out and brought my hand to her mouth; licking her juices and my sperm with great zeal. I had just enough time to take a quick shower before Chuck was due to arrive; however, after I pulled up my pants, Marge laid spent on the lounge. She must have seen me hesitate, because she waved her hand and said, "Go on. I'll be in in a minute." I nodded and picked up the hookah before I took my leave. As I entered the house, I was greeted with a round of applause and five amused looks, which were two more than I was expecting. Apparently, Michelle had left behind her English textbook, and Jean had brought her over to retrieve it. While the knowledge of Marge and my relationship was known to Jean, it appeared that Michelle had been none the wiser; her blush was practically crimson. I set down my hookah on the living room table before trotting back to the master bathroom for a quick shower. I was halfway down the hall when I heard another round of applause and a few catcalls, signaling Marge's entry into the house. ------- I was showered, dressed, and loading the golf clubs into the xB when Chuck arrived. I had talked Lori into coming along with us, and we were able to take one car to the golf course. As Lori drove us, Chuck inquired about my wet hair, to which I explained I had taken a quick dip before he came over. An amused grin crossed Lori's face, but she did not make any comments about what I had dipped. I spent a half hour on the driving range teaching Chuck the proper technique on how to address the ball and swing the club. As with many beginners, he had trouble keeping his eye on the ball and kept on wanting to raise his head to see where it went. After he went through his first bucket of balls, though, he felt comfortable enough to work on his second one solo. I was able to keep an eye on him while I started on my own bucket of balls. The Compound did not have a driving range; our training had consisted of hitting balls into a net inside one of the warehouses. After all, the fear of Russian spy satellites had made masking the Compound a priority, and something like a golf course or even a driving range would stick out a sore thumb. It took me a few swings to get use to the feel of John's clubs, and one thing that I noticed after I did was that I had a slight slice. After I made a slight modification to my grip, I was able to correct that problem and soon began driving the balls with a nice fade. When Lori had finished her bucket of balls, she took on the task of observing Chuck and offering advice. Chuck had witnessed how well Lori had hit her balls after she had shaken off her rust, so listened to her suggestions. At one point, after Chuck had addressed the ball, Lori stopped him and laid her driver at his feet. She then had him step away and showed him where he was actually lined up, compared to where he thought he had been. Straightening out the driver, she had him readdress the ball and kept the golf club on the ground to serve as a guide for him. Chuck and Lori waited for me to finish my bucket, and we then moved onto the practice putting green. Lori and I took turns helping Chuck learn how to putt, and I found myself listening closely to Lori when it came to dealing with a practically sharp slope on the green. Like the nets, the putting green at the CYA had been indoors, and while it had some slopes, they were nowhere as steep as the one at the golf course. It took me a while, but I started to get the hang of it by the time the twilight rates went into effect. Black Lake was a twenty-seven-hole course, and nineteen through twenty-seven seemed the least crowded. Instead of teeing off at the ladies tees, Lori played the regular ones with Chuck and I, though Chuck commented that, since he was using 'girl's clubs', he should hit from the 'girls' tees'. "Man, you sure you don't want to go out for the golf team?" I commented after Lori had made a particularly nice drive. Lori smiled and shook her head. "I'm okay at golf, but better at the high-jump. Besides, Vicky and Susan are both on the track team." Like water polo, the high school golf team would field a girls' team when they had enough female athletes. That year, it appeared that the interest was not enough, and any girls would have to be playing with the boys. Chuck seemed disheartened with his skill compared to Lori and me, but that all changed on the fifth hole that we played. It was a par three, and whereas he had to use a seven-iron compared to our nines, he was able to get it on the green and just under ten feet from the hole. He took just over a minute lining up his putt and when he did hit the ball, he used just a tad too much force. Still, while it appeared that it was going to lip out, it instead did a full three-sixty before falling into the hole. "Yes!" Chuck shouted, pumping his fist in excitement. The birdie he had made seemed to wash away the series of triple-plus bogeys he had been making during the previous holes. From that point on, whenever he did not strike the ball right, he seemed to know what he did wrong and tried to correct it by the next time. I practically had a lit cigarette between my lips as soon as we had teed off. Chuck thought it was humorous that I kept the cigarette in my mouth when I putted instead of tossing it on the ground as I would when using other clubs. I wondered how funny it would have been to him if he knew what activity I had been doing a few hours earlier and smoking while doing it. We were only able to get in eight holes before it became too dark to see. We might have been able to get in more, but we had often waved through other players because of our slow play. During the drive home, Chuck kept reliving his successful birdie and had agreed to at least try out for golf the next day. ------- Chapter 40 "You sunk my battleship!" - M. Bradley Monday brought a new routine to the household. Members of the track team were 'strongly encouraged' (strong-armed) to work out in the school weight room before classes, so Lori drove us to school in the morning. While Rose could have slept in and then walked there, she insisted on getting up early and riding in with us. This gave her the opportunity to cook a hot breakfast for us, though she did keep it on the lighter side. As Lori was driving us to school, she suggested to Rose, "You could always join me in the weight room. There's nothing that says that you have to be an athlete to use it." Shaking her head, Rose replied, "No, I would just be getting in the way of somebody who needs to be using it. The library is a better place for me. Even if I don't need to study, I could always use one of their computers and hop online." Lori tried a couple of times to reassure Rose that it would be fine if she used the weight room, but in typical Rose fashion, when she made up her mind on something, she stood steadfast. Rose then reiterated that she would be fine walking home after school, instead of Lori driving her home only to have to return for track. The school day seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was walking Traci to the locker-room after sixth period. When we reached the entrance, I gave her a brief kiss before we parted. As I started my journey to the parking lot, I spotted somebody I had been wanting to talk to. Even though I was slightly pressed for time, the fact that he was alone overrode my concerns about being tardy. "Hey, Toby, you got a sec?" "Sure, Chad." Toby Butler was a large senior and was, arguably, one of the strongest guys in school. He had been one of the primary reasons why the football team had made it to the CIF playoffs the past couple of years -- he had set a division record for most sacks his junior year. He was also the unofficial leader of the Aggies; the fact that he actually worked on the ranch that his family owned put him head and shoulders above the wannabes. I fell in stride next to him and decided to cut to the chase by telling him, "Russell Young." "That little shit. Is he still hassling the Mexican chicas?" "Don't know about that. I just thought you might want to keep an eye on him, though," I replied. From my brief encounters with Toby in the past, I had picked up that he really did not care for the stereotypical cowboy image that people had. I was fairly certain that, as soon as he caught wind of what Russell had been doing to Chuck, the matter would be taken care of. "Okay, noted," Toby said when he realized that I was not going to go into detail. It became apparent that we were walking towards the parking lot, though who was following whom was unclear. I asked him, "Don't you have track practice?" A small frown crept across his lips when he replied, "How did you know that I did track?" 'I remember your picture from memorizing last year's yearbook, ' would have been a tad awkward, so I went a far simpler explanation and jerked my thumb towards his left breast. Toby actually looked down at his letter before slapping the palm of his hand against his forehead. He then told me, "I got a full ride from Cal Poly for football, so I don't need to do track anymore. I was doing that as a backup. Coach King was a little disappointed, but he seems to understand." I figured that 'little disappointed' was an understatement. Toby had come in second for shotput during the regional finals. While education was stressed as the forefront in extracurricular activities, some coaches found it difficult to keep that in mind when it came to the success of their teams; I am sure that Coach King had fully expected for one of his star athletes to return that spring. The fact that Toby had chosen Cal Poly was not that surprising. A large number of schools had been courting him, but Toby seemed not to have had any illusions about making it to the professional level, so instead went with a school that was not only local, but had a stellar agriculture department. When we arrived at Lori's car, I fished out the spare set of keys that Marge had lent me so that I could retrieve the golf clubs. I swapped the clubs with my backpack and laptop bag. Toby seemed to recognize the car because he commented, "Rumor is that you moved in with the Caspars." In the beginning, I had been protective about my living situation, lest my house be overrun with classmates who wanted to have 'keggers'. When Rose had joined me, I had become even more so, since we were the only two people living in my house. It was only after the Caspars had moved in that I had relaxed and did not mind others knowing about it, though like Toby, many were under the false impression that I was living with the Caspars instead of the other way around. However, instead of correcting his false impression, I just nodded. "Cool. Say, you don't by chance know if Lori has been dating anybody, do you?" Toby had tried to play off the question casually, but when he broke eye contact with me, I realized that he was attracted to Lori. When Lori had introduced me to him, along with a couple of other players on the football team, I had thought that Toby had been a tad flustered when he had spoken to Lori. I found myself smiling at Toby and shook my head. "No, she has not been dating anybody." "I didn't think so. Then again, after what that dickwad did to her, I don't blame her." My smile faded from my face, and I glanced around. Students were walking to their cars, and the chances of being overheard were not high, but I still lowered the tone of my voice when I observed, "I wasn't aware that was common knowledge." "Oh, it's not. You see, I was already playing Varsity my sophomore year, and one day Vince comes into the locker room, running his mouth about what an easy lay Lori was. I knew that was bullshit, since I've known Lori since Junior High. When I told a couple of my friends who were seniors, they decided to search his locker, and they found a vial labeled Keta..." "Ketamine," I supplied. "Yeah, that's what it was. One of the guys had heard about that shit being a date rape drug. Well, after we found that, we decided to give him a dose of his own medicine. Had ourselves a private little gathering, with him being the guest of honor. After he was unconscious, we tied him up, tossed him in our trunk and made a little road trip down to TJ." I let out an appreciative whistle. Tijuana was a good seven-hour drive to the south. If they had been caught, they would have been in a world of hurt. Also, transporting people in the trunk of a car risks carbon monoxide poisoning, but I guessed they were not terribly concerned with Vince's wellbeing. "When we got there, we found ourselves a workhouse, stripped him, and left him there. Took him nearly a week to return to school." "Wow, I am surprised he didn't rat you guys out." Toby had a huge grin on his face when he said, "Oh, we left him a few Polaroids and a note warning him to keep his mouth shut and for him not to drug anybody anymore. I mean, from those pictures, it appeared that he was enjoying sucking our cocks." I found myself matching Toby's grin. It appeared that they had run their own version of a Honey Pot operation. I then sobered up a little bit and told Toby, "I am so glad that you told me about this. Here I thought I was going to have to track down Vince and teach him a lesson, but it looks like you already took care of it." Shrugging, Toby said, "Wasn't that big of a deal." "Uh-huh. Administrating a controlled substance, international kidnapping, blackmail... I can see that being 'no big deal'." Toby's grin changed to more of a sheepish one before it slowly faded away. "You're not going to tell her, are you?" he asked with concern. I shook my head. He let out a sigh of relief, but I had to ask, "Why haven't you said anything?" Shrugging, he replied, "I don't know. I guess part of me was afraid that maybe Vince didn't drug her. I mean, it was just an assumption on our part that he had drugged her. He could have had that shit and not have had the chance to use it." I think Toby was looking for validation from me, but I was unable to supply it. His confidence was not the only one I had to deal with; Lori had told me her ordeal in secrecy. I was toeing a very fine line as it was and had overstepped a tad when I mentioned not needing to seek out Vince to wreak retribution on him. As informative as our little conversation had been, I needed to get to the school van that would be driving me out to the golf course. "Hey, Toby, I need to get going. Did you want me to ask Lori if she would be interested in going out on a date with you?" It was amusing to see a big, strapping young man like Toby begin to blush. "Um, um, sure. You don't mind?" 'Of course I mind, she is one of mine!' I heard a primal voice cry out in my head. What I actually told Toby was, "Not at all. I'll test the waters for you and let you know, okay?" "Thanks a bunch, Chad. I'll make sure to keep my eye on Russell." I walked in a hurried pace to where Coach Forrest had told me that the school van would be. When I spotted Chuck, I walked towards him and observed an amused Fran standing next to him. "Oh? So this is what you are doing after school today," Fran commented when I passed Lori's old set to Chuck. She then added, "I guess that also explains where you were yesterday." "Yes, I'm playing golf. Are you satisfied now? You've been bugging me all day why I wasn't going to be need a ride home after school. Now, you know." "I wouldn't have had to bug you if you'd just told me," Fran pointed out. "Fine, whatever. Chad and I need to go," Chuck told her. We took a step toward the school van when Fran stopped us. "Just a sec," she said, waving her arm in the air. Chuck and I looked to see whom she was signaling, and we saw Chuck's mom pulling into the parking lot. Chuck was visibly surprised when his mother turned off the car, pulled up next to us and got out. "Oh? You're playing golf, Chuck?" Mrs. Johnson asked as she unlocked the trunk of her car. Chuck seemed too flabbergasted to respond as Fran retrieved a set of golf clubs from the trunk of car. "Thanks, Mom." Chuck's mother and Fran shared a little wink before she announced, "Just give me a call when you two need picking up. It was nice seeing you again, Chad." "You too, Mrs. Johnson," I replied with a smile. "You two coming?" Fran asked as she started towards the school van. Chuck seemed rooted to the spot, and it was not until I gave him a gentle nudge before he seemed to have found his feet. As we followed about fifteen feet behind Fran, he pondered, "I just don't understand. I mean, I only told them this morning on the way to school that I wasn't going to be needing a ride because I was going to be busy after school. How the hell did they find out?" Chuck did not seem to be asking me that question, so I remained silent, though I had a strong suspicion on how they had found out. It would explain Traci's strange telephone behavior when I walked into the bedroom the previous night. Fran had been added to the ever-increasing circle of people that Traci talked to on the telephone. While Traci's improved attitude towards the blonde Amazon might have been a contributing factor in including Fran in her calling circle, I had witnessed her talking to Edana Bowen, a girl that she despised, for over a half an hour one time. After Traci had ended the call with Edana, I had asked her why she had talked to Edana, given her feelings towards the other girl. I had received an incredulous look from her and been told, "Because she called me." Chuck and Fran were not the only familiar faces I saw. Ruth Bachman, who was in my English class, was one of the students already at the van. After I had stowed my clubs in the back of the van, I went over to her and exchanged a few polite words. A few minutes later, the Junior Varsity Coach, Mr. Lin, arrived and we climbed into the van. The tension between Fran and Chuck was especially thick, so I chose to sit next to Ruth. On the drive to the golf course, Ruth asked me, "How's Rose? I haven't had a chance to talk to her lately." For a split second, I thought Ruth was referring to the letters that Rose had received, but I then remembered that Ruth was one of the first students whom Rose had approached during her spiritual quest. "Rose is good. She hit a rough patch when she hit a string of religions that were not too tolerant towards her lifestyle, but the last two places she visited she enjoyed. I think right now she is torn between Reform Judaism, Buddhism, Unitarian Universalism, and United Church of Christ-ism." Ruth smiled at my little pun before frowning. "I don't like hearing that she feels torn--" I quickly interrupted her by saying, "Oh no, that's my term, not hers. Really, she was quite happy when she found out that your Synagogue was accepting to the fact that she is gay. I just think right now she feels compelled to choose one over the other three, that's all." Ruth's smile returned and she nodded her head in understanding. "Well, please let her know that she's always welcome to attend anytime. My parents don't mind at all, giving her a ride if she needs one." "Okay, I'll let her know," I told her. Our conversation then shifted to a book we had been assigned in English class, and we spent the rest of the journey to the golf course discussing the merits of 'The Catcher in the Rye'. ------- "So, Fran plays golf. Is she any good?" When we had arrived at the golf course, everybody had retrieved their clubs from the back of the van and had begun walking to the driving range. Once again, Fran was ahead of Chuck and me. Chuck let out a little snort and replied, "Of course, she is. If it's physical, she excels at it. Doesn't matter what it might be: volleyball, water polo, swimming, Little League, judo, et cetera. She always does better than me at everything." "I don't know about that," I observed. "Don't you do better than her academically?" I was thinking about the ruckus Fran had caused when she and Chuck had swapped classes during Halloween, but he dismissed me with a wave. "Fran is a lot smarter than she lets on. I think she has taken on the 'dumb blonde' role to fit in. Anyhow, I haven't seen her play, but she used to go golfing all the time with the Dads before..." Chuck's voice trailed off, and I was once again amused how Chuck and Fran referred to each other's parents as 'Mom' and 'Dad'. After a few seconds, Chuck resumed what he had been saying, "... before she messed up her knee playing volleyball. I didn't think her knee was fully healed." A collection of buckets was already waiting for us at the driving range. The juniors and seniors were told to go with Coach Lin to the practice green, while the rest of us were instructed to grab a bucket and find an open bay on the driving range. Chuck, Fran, and I found some at one end and claimed them. After Fran laid her golf bag on the ground, she pulled out a knee brace that had been in one of its large pockets. As she was putting it on, she saw that Chuck had a look of concern on his face. Laughing it off, she told him, "It's no big deal. Doc Ryder told me that I could play golf. She just wanted me wear the brace if I did, that's all." As I had done the previous day, I took the slot that allowed me to keep an eye on Chuck. Fran was on the other side of me, and I did find myself pausing to watch her swing. It only took her a few swings to adjust to the restrictions that the knee brace caused, and she was driving the balls straight and true in no time. Chuck, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten about half the stuff he had learned the previous day. After I hit a couple of balls, I went over to him and began to correct his swing. Chuck only needed a little prodding to remember what he had been taught. He still had the bad habit of lifting his head, and I was about to point that out when Fran said, "You need to keep your head down." Apparently, Fran had grown curious of what we were up to and had joined us. Chuck was about to say something when she told him, "Keep your head down, and I'll watch the ball for you." Chuck grumbled for a few seconds but did as he was told. For the next few shots, Fran reported how he did. After the fourth time of doing that, he hit an excellent drive, and he must have felt it because his eyes were rooted to where the ball had been and excitedly asked, "How was it?" I held back a chuckle when Fran answered, "I don't know. I wasn't watching." Chuck whirled his head to Fran, and she began laughing. Pointing, she told him, "You did great. Look, your ball is still bouncing." Chuck then turned to see where she was indicating and watched as the ball bounced passed the 250 yard marker. "Holy shit! Did you see that?!?" I was about to reply, 'No, I wasn't watching, ' when we heard a loud, "Johnson!" come from behind us. "Yes?" Coach Forest was striding towards us and I saw him suppress a smile, most likely caused by the three of us whirling around and answering him in almost perfect unison. It appeared that Coach Forest was the type of coach that preferred calling students by their last name. When he pulled up in front of us, he studied us for a few seconds before asking, "Who's the oldest?" Fran raised a finger indicating her, and I heard Chuck mutter under his breath, "Yeah, by six hours." Apparently, I was not the only one to hear Chuck's observation. Coach Forest was deadpan when he commented, "It must have been a painful labor." He then turned his focus to me and said, "I'm guessing that the chance that you were born sometime between them is extremely unlikely, so that would make you the youngest." I smiled and nodded my head. "Okay, J-1, J-2, and J-3," announced Coach Forest as he pointed at Fran, Chuck, and I. After bestowing us with our new monikers, Coach turned to Chuck and said, "J-2, just because we are not in a classroom does not give you liberty to use that form of language. This is, after all, a school activity. In addition, golf is a game of etiquette. Please try to refrain from using that colorful colloquialism for when you hit a bucket like that last shot or a hole in one. Understood?" Chuck nodded his head and replied, "Yes, Mr. Forrest." Coach Forrest raised an eyebrow that resulted in Fran nudging Chuck with her elbow and prompting him softly, "Coach", through the corner of her mouth. Chuck then corrected his response, "Yes, Coach Forrest." Coach Forrest told Chuck, "J-3 came to me this morning and told me that you have a newfound interest for the game of golf. You need to know that you are not 'officially' here until you hand in your papers. I have them in my car, so make sure you remind me to give them to you before you leave today. Besides the Athletic Code and Parental Consent forms, you will also need a physical examination. One of the clauses of the Athletic Code is the prohibition of the use of tobacco. That includes when you are playing on your own time." Coach Forest shifted his attention from Chuck to me when he mentioned the clause. Keeping my expression neutral, I was confident that I would not be betrayed by it. However, I was betrayed by my friend. What had made Chuck such an easy opponent when playing cards had also made him a weak ally. While my eyes remained locked with Coach Forrest, I had caught Chuck giving me a nervous glance. Coach Forrest saw the glance, as well, and gave me a satisfied grin. While not entirely admitting defeat, I told him, "No use of tobacco products while playing on our own time at this golf course during the season, Coach." "Better change that to within the county, J-3. You may have noticed, word does travel." I nodded my head, while internally cursing at my foolishness. During my time at the CYA, I had been trained to blend in and appear inconspicuous. Coach Forrest was not among the players we had waved through, but apparently, one of them had commented to him about a high school student smoking on the course. While my long blond hair did make me stand out, it was most likely the Central City High baseball cap that I had worn (and was still currently wearing) that had sealed my fate. In addition, Central City was not very socially diverse, so it was quite easy for Coach Forrest to figure that the players that had been described were Chuck and I. "Now, why don't you two go back to your bays, and I'll take over helping J-2 with his swing," Coach Forrest told Fran and me. He did not appear to be upset that we had been giving our friend pointers. We did as we were told, and after a while, he came by to observe my swing. After watching me hit a few flop shots, Coach Forrest said, "J-3, let me see you hit a few with your driver." After stowing the sand wedge in the golf bag and retrieving the driver, I then teed up a ball. I only took one practice swing before addressing the ball and hitting it. The Ping club head had a particularly large sweet spot, and upon impact, I could feel that I had hit a great shot. The next two balls I hit were also hit well, though I did change them slightly by fading one and drawing the other. "Very nice. Hit a couple with your seven iron." I did as I was told, and Coach Forrest seemed satisfied with my shots. "After you are through with the bucket, head on over to the practice green." He then moved on to observe Fran, and I quickly went through my remaining balls. The previous day's outing had taught me that, while my long game and putting were good, it was my short game that needed the most improvement. As long as I kept the ball in the fairway, I was fine. It was when the ball went in the rough or a sand trap that my inexperience showed. After all, actual grass was far different from the artificial surfaces that I had practiced on back at the Compound. When I reached the practice green, I began working on chipping. Coach Lin gave me some pointers on how to hit the ball out of the bunker when I had moved on to that. By then, Chuck and Fran had finished with their buckets and joined me at the practice green. "Man, I can't believe Mist... Coach Forrest let you off so easily," Chuck told me after Coach Lin had moved on to help another player. Fran let out a snort and said, "That's because he's a smoker. They all stick together." I smiled, while Chuck gave Fran a puzzled look. "How did you know he was a smoker?" he asked. "Didn't you see his fingers? Two of his fingernails and fingertips were yellow," answered Fran. Chuck just rolled his eyes, likely thinking that nobody but his sister would have noticed that little tidbit. However, like Fran, I had observed Coach Forest's fingers, as well, and that was one of the main factors for why I had chosen to say what I did instead of denying the allegation. While Fran's knee brace might have impeded her ball-striking slightly, she had no troubles when it came to putting. Four out of five times, she was able to sink her ball when she was fifteen feet from hole. She also seemed to have a knack to reading the green when it came to slopes, which was something that caused a little envy in me. I was starting to get the hang of reading one practically tricky slope when I noticed Coach Lin had left to converse with Coach Forrest. They talked for a few minutes before Coach Lin returned and announced the groupings for that afternoon's practice round. I was unable to see Chuck's face, so I was not sure if he was happy or disappointed when he found out that he and Fran were going to be in the same group. Theirs was one of the first to tee off, and after his name was called, he collected his clubs and walked in a quick pace to the tee box for the nineteenth hole. Fran and two other players followed in his wake. Whereas Chuck and Fran were with the first groups, I was with the last. Kimberly Nadir, a senior, and I were grouped with Coach Forrest. My previous day's round was for naught as we teed off at the first hole. It was a par three, and I thought I had done a good job by getting the ball on the green within fifteen feet of the hole until I saw Kimberly land hers within ten. Coach also got his ball on the green, but his was outside of ours. Still, he was able to sink his putt with one stroke compared to the two it took me (damn slope!). Kimberly also made her birdie putt. "When you mark down the score, make sure you put one dot in mine and Nadir's box and two in yours. That way, we can see how much many strokes were because of putting," Coach Forest instructed me. Traci's theory that I had wanted to join the golf team was that it was one sport that she could not cheer had very little validity. Even the (now no-longer) benefit of smoking was just a small factor. The main reason why I had wanted to give golf a shot was, while it did have a team, it was an individual sport. The only opponents I faced were the course and, more importantly, myself. I had to block out how the people I was playing with were doing and concentrate on my own game. One thing that I had not factored in was the perverse pleasure that I received when it came to comparing golf with sniping. I guess anything can be compared with one another if you look at it long enough, but the similarities just seemed to stand out. Lining up the angle of attack, choosing the proper tool, estimating distance to the target, and factoring in how the wind will affect the projectile were just a handful of things that played out in my mind. Fran's and my theory that Coach Forrest was a smoker was confirmed after we had teed off on the third hole. He saw me watching him light up, and after he exhaled his first drag, he told me, "Wipe that smug grin off your face, J-3. Do as I say, not as I do." Coach chuckled when I actually brought my hand up to my face and wiped it over my mouth, the smile gone when I lowered it. Kimberly seemed to pick up that Coach Forrest wanted to talk to me in private, as when we left the tee box, she walked ahead of us. "Seriously, you need to remember that the Athletic Code is year-round. Even though the spring season did not start until today, I would be hard-pressed to keep you on the team if I knew it was you who had been smoking out here yesterday. You best make sure that I do not hear any additional rumors." As I nodded my head, Coach Forrest added, "Though, I am sure Coach Turner would be willing to overlook any of your transgressions. He is still giving me grief about losing one of his best swimmers." I chuckled and told him, "Just so that you know, he's threatened to fail me if I don't sign a pledge stating that I will go out for the swim team next year." Coach Forrest tsked a couple of times and said, "If you're planning on taking Honor's English your senior year, you may want to hold off on signing any pledges, lest you face my wrath if you turn out as good as you seem. You told me that you have not played much before, right?" "I lived near a driving range, so I was able to practice my swing. I just haven't played much on actual courses," I told him, keeping my lie as simple as possible. "It shows. You hit the long ball very well, but your short game can use some improvement." The last hole was a par five, and I had been able to get my ball on the green in two. I was left with a twenty-three foot eagle putt, and while the surface was fairly level, my ball had lipped out and I had had to settle for a birdie. Instead of dredging up my past mistakes in my mind, I needed to focus on my shortcomings and improve my game. We drew silent and still as Kimberly approached her ball and began to line up her shot. Our balls were not too far from hers, so we did not resume our conversation until after we had made our shots. "Good call on J-2. He appears to have a great deal of potential. It is too bad that we do not have enough girls to field a separate team. If we did, then he would be playing JV matches, for sure. But since we do not, I get to utilize Nadir's talents." Kimberly was within earshot and turned to smile at Coach. "With Fran playing, we only need one more girl to make up a team." "Is she the one you were telling me about a couple of years ago?" Coach Forest asked her. "Yup. I've played with her in a couple of junior tourneys. She's pretty good, and I was going to ask her to try out last year, but she messed up her knee real bad playing volleyball." "Ah, I think I remember her now. Last year, she was in my freshman's honors class for one day. She was dressed up as J-2. Her face was obscured with blackface, but I remember her being rather tall for a freshman and she was on crutches." "Did you hear what happened to them this year when they repeated dressing up as each other for Halloween?" I asked Coach Forrest. When he shook his head, I then told him the story of how their teachers had heard about their stunt and countered it with surprise quizzes. Both he and Kimberly had a good chuckle when I finished it. ------- Traci was waiting by Lori's car when the school van pulled into the parking lot. She came over to say hello to Chuck and Fran as we retrieved our clubs and took them to a nearby storeroom. Coach Lin unlocked the door for us, and we stowed the clubs inside. "If you two want to wait, Lori should be done with practice soon and we can give you a ride home," I offered. Shaking her head, Fran declined saying, "No thanks. I'm sure Mom will want to ask J-2 a lot of questions, and I had better be there to keep him honest." Chuck rolled his eyes, but I thought I saw him suppressing a smile. He had done much better this time, compared to his previous outing; the fact that he had outplayed Fran on their fourth hole had been told to me in great detail -- twice. Fran was starting to call Moesha Johnson when she pulled into the parking lot. Traci and I said goodbye to the twins as they got into the car. "Strange how Fran knew about Chuck trying out for the golf team," I observed. Traci turned to look at me and replied, "Hey, when I was talking to her last night, she mentioned Chuck took off without telling her where he was going. I just told her that he went golfing with you and Lori." When I had checked with Traci to see if it was all right for Chuck to use Lori's clubs, I had neglected to mention that Chuck did not want anybody else to know about it. He had not even told the other otakus, fearful that they would razz him if he turned out to be terrible. Even though I had the spare set of keys to Lori's car, Traci and I waited outside after we had put her book bag in the backseat. By now, the last rays of the sun had vanished and it had started to get a little chilly. I stood leaning against the car, with Traci standing between my legs, her back pressed against my chest and my hands around her waist. About fifteen minutes after I had returned to school, Lori came into view at a hurried pace. She was still dressed in her workout clothes, and apologized for being so late when she arrived at the car. When I got into the car, I chose to sit in the passenger's seat. As soon as Lori got in, I glanced around one last time to make sure the coast was clear before I reached over, guided her head towards mine, and gave her a warm (if slightly salty) kiss. "I'm sorry. I skipped taking a shower because practice ran long," Lori apologized. "Don't be silly. You smell fine. I would rather smell the natural you, instead of a bunch of deodorant." Lori blushed slightly as she started up the car. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, I asked her, "What do you think of Toby Butler?" "Teddy? He's sweet." Lori glanced over and saw my puzzled reaction. She smiled and clarified, "The girls on the cheerleading squad called him 'Teddy', as in 'teddy bear', because of his initials and he is big and cuddly." "Would you be interested in going out on a date with him?" I asked. Lori did not answer, and I noticed her grip on the steering wheel tighten to the point where her knuckles began to turn white. The remainder of our short trip home was completed in an awkward silence. When Lori pulled into the driveway, she shut off the car and turned to face me. As she turned, I thought I saw some additional beads of sweat on her face, until I realized that the source was from her eyes. "Are you ordering me to go out on a date with him as Slave or Eve?" Lori asked, her voice slightly broken. "No!" I quickly replied, "I was just curious if you would be interest in going out on a date with him, that's all." Lori reached up and wiped away her tears, saying, "I'm sorry. I mean, I heard what you said, but for some reason, I thought you might want me to go out and have sex with him." I reached out and took hold of both of her hands. "Lori, you made it quite clear in the checklist that you filled out that you had no interest with having sexual relations with other men in regards with BDSM. I had just thought that perhaps you might like to go out a date, maybe see a movie or something." "Yeah, but what if he wants more from me? What if he wants me to make out with him?" "If you want to, then do so. If not, then tell him no. Trust me, I am pretty sure that To--Teddy is the type of person that will honor what you say. I might be responsible for Slave and Eve, but it is you who must make up your own decisions. It is my opinion that you should be doing more stuff with your friends, instead of always trying to be around for my selfish needs." Giving me a sad smile, Lori confessed, "I'm happy as it is. I mean, I know that I'm not your girlfriend but--" "Yes, you are," Traci corrected her. Lori turned her head towards the backseat in surprise; the usually talkative Traci had been silent throughout the drive from school. It appeared that Lori had even forgotten that she was even in the car. "But you--" "I know that I told you and Mom that the two of you could use my boyfriend--" "'Use'?" I interrupted her, grinning. Traci shot me a dirty glare for interrupting her, but then impishly stuck out her tongue at me. "Okay, 'use' might not be the right word... maybe 'borrow'? Blah, it doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is that, after Chad told me that he loved the both of you, I realized that you two are his girlfriends and he your boyfriend. I just happen to be his 'main' girlfriend, is all." "GF-1," I muttered. "What?" Traci asked me. "I'll explain later," I told her before turning my attention back to Lori. "Despite what your sister says, I don't know if you can consider me being your boyfriend. You deserve somebody who can show you affection in public without having to worry about being seen by fellow classmates. Besides, if Traci wanted to go out on a date with somebody, I wouldn't mind. If she wanted to have sex with that person, then we would need to talk about the ramifications about it first." "Really! Because, you know, I just think David Wright is sooo dreamy, and I've been itching for him to get down my pants." "I'll let him know when I see him tomorrow," I told Traci seriously. Traci's eyes grew wide and, for a split second, I think she believed that I would actually tell Dave her confession. Lori was the first to begin to giggle, and it was not long until all three of us were laughing. "Let's go inside," I suggested. That evening, Traci insisted that we share our bed with Lori. The two girls wore pajamas, and I even donned a pair of sweatpants since the night was about comfort and not sex. One thing that was different from the last time Lori spent the night with us was that Traci got into bed on the other side of her. As I spooned Lori, Traci scooted back so that Lori could spoon her. "No lezzy stuff," Traci reminded an amused Lori. Traci was the first to fall asleep, so I used that opportunity for a little pillow talk with Lori. I found out from her that Erin had recently had a heated fight with her ex-girlfriend had culminated with one of the neighbors calling the police. While it had not escalated to physical violence, it sounded like Erin's living situation was rather tempestuous. We were discussing a few ideas on how to help Erin out when Lori drifted off to sleep. I could not help but smile lovingly when I realized she was gone, too; it just suddenly struck me as cute that Lori had fallen asleep mid-discussion like Traci always does. Feeling all fuzzy-hearted, I kissed both girls atop their heads and laid back, intending to think some more about Erin's situation. I was asleep a moment later. ------- It was not until the next evening, as we were getting ready for bed, that I had a chance to talk to Traci in private. Throughout the day, it had seemed that Traci had wanted to ask me something, but there had always been somebody around or the times we had been alone had been brief. "What's on your mind, Hon?" I asked as I pulled off my polo shirt. "Did you really mean what you said yesterday about me seeing other guys?" Traci asked after a moment's pause. In light of Lori's reaction from when I had broached the topic of her dating, I knew that I had to choose my words carefully. "Traci, I love you with every fiber of my being. If seeing other people would make you happy, then I would not stand in your way." "Wouldn't you get jealous?" While I had already explored my feelings on the matter, I still paused to review them once more. "In all honesty, I don't know. You are the first person that I have ever fallen in love with, so I've never had to deal with jealousy. I could theorize that I would be able to focus on your happiness and ignore my own feelings, but when it came down to it, I'm not sure that my primal urges wouldn't rear their ugly head." "I think I know what you mean. I pretty much pushed you into Mom and Lori's arms, thinking that I would be able to handle you being intimate with them. At first, everything was kosher. I sometimes would feel a twinge of anger, but it was directed at me for letting you do the things you were doing with Mom and Lori. When you realized that you loved them and you told me, I felt happy, but at the same time, I felt that twinge start to grow. I had to keep telling myself that you loved me more than them, but I started to worry that you would realize what a brat I was and that Lori, or even Mom, would be a better girlfriend for you." Traci raised her hand, cutting off my protest. "It was then that I realized that Mom, Lori, and I were equally your girlfriends. You might not be able to show your affections towards them in public, but you go out of your way and try to do it when you can. I know I told Lori that I considered myself your 'main' girlfriend, but even if I wasn't, I think I can still be happy just being one of them." Traci was only a few feet away from me, so I only had to take a step to be able to wrap my arms around her. After we exchanged a tender kiss, I kept her in my arms and told her, "Labels aside, you are the number one person in my heart. Also, you are not a brat. You are a vibrant, caring, beautiful fourteen--" "Almost fifteen," Traci interrupted. Smiling, I continued, "Almost fifteen-year-old girl who is somehow able to tolerate a jerk like me. I know that I just got done saying that your happiness is paramount, and that I believe I could handle you going out on a date with another guy. However, I think if progressed to the point where you were having sex with him, I might... no, I'm sure that I would feel some sort of ill will towards him. It might be hypocritical, but I don't think I would have those feelings if it was another girl that you had sex with." Rolling her eyes, Traci replied, "That's a long ways off from happening." I was slightly surprised at Traci's denial. In the past, she had always expressed no desires for a same-sex relationship. Her typical no had changed to a slight possibility. Instead of questioning her about that, I decided to let it pass and gave her temple a soft kiss. "Let's go to bed." ------- I was jolted awake early the next morning by the sound of the bedroom door flying open and slamming into the wall. As I quickly sat up, I focused my attention on Traci, who was in the doorway. Her eyes were wide as saucers, and she seemed out of breath. The panic in her voice was thick when she practically yelled, "ROSE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED!!!" ------- Chapter 41 "We can have facts without thinking but we cannot have thinking without facts." - Johnny D. "ROSE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED!" The panic that Traci had was contagious; adrenalin had begun to course through my veins. I do not think it was so much the words that had triggered my adrenal gland as the sheer alarm that had been in Traci's voice and face. Adrenalin was a useful tool in 'fight or flight' situations, but this was not one of them. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. "Didn't you hear me, Chad? Rose is gone! She must have been--" "Shut your pie-hole, Woman!" I barked, regretting the words as soon as they had left my mouth. I had never used those words or tone with my girlfriend before, but they seemed to have the desired effect. I knew that I could control my adrenalin better if I slipped into 'agent mode' and purged myself of all emotions, but I did not want to go that route if I could help it. I took a couple more cleansing breaths before I reopened my eyes and said, "Tell me what happened," as I got out of bed. "I woke up earlier than usual, so I thought I would head on out to the kitchen, since Rose is usually up by now making breakfast. When she wasn't in the kitchen, I thought she had slept in, so I went up to her room to wake her up. She wasn't there! I searched the whole house, and I couldn't find her!" The break that my breathing had caused seemed to have also calmed Traci somewhat, but the panic quickly crept back in as she told me what she knew. I did not bother getting dressed, though I glanced at my cigarette case on the computer desk as I strode by; nicotine could provide an offsetting reaction to the adrenalin. As I followed Traci out of the bedroom, I asked, "Could she have maybe gone over to Pollyanna's?" "No, I already called her. She doesn't know where Rose is either!" Helvíti. Pollyanna must be worried sick if Traci's voice even had half the panic she had now when she talked to her. As we entered the living room, Traci started towards the stairs, only to come to a screeching halt when she realized that I was no longer following her. She quickly joined me at my side as I entered the foyer and examined the house alarm. The fact that the alarm was still armed from when I had set it the previous night appeared to be a good sign. I entered in the appropriate sequence and brought up the log. The alarm had been disabled for fifteen seconds an hour and a half prior from the inside. That was the only change in status. As soon as I turned away, Traci quickly led the way again, taking the stairs two at a time. When we reached the top, both Lori and Marge were standing in their respective doorways. "What's going on?" Marge asked sleepily. Traci urgently answered, "Rose has been kid--" "It appears that Rose is not in the house," I interrupted Traci. Marge and Lori's eyes grew wide in surprise, and they followed us to Rose's room. Unlike her backpack or school locker, Rose kept her room as immaculate as she did the rest of the house. I closed my eyes and visualized what the room had looked like the last time I had been in there. After about ten seconds, I opened my eyes and cast them about the room, trying to notice what was out of place. I saw her school backpack on the floor next to the door and, from the shape, it appeared that it contained her schoolbooks. The bed was made, which made me doubt Traci's assumption that Rose had been kidnapped even more. I walked over to the closet and used one of my knuckles to slide back its door. While I did not have every article of Rose's clothing memorized, I did take note that one of her favorite dresses was missing. There was a shoebox on the floor of the closet that was slightly askew, so I squatted down to examine it. It took me a few seconds to recall that it was the same box that Pollyanna had given to Rose for her birthday. Again, I used one of my knuckles to knock off the lid and saw that the container was empty. I stood up and scanned the closet again, and this time I noticed that the handbag that she had also received for her birthday was missing as well. Turning around, I was about to tell my theory to the three women who had watched my examination when a blinking light coming from the computer monitor on the desk caught my attention. Rose always turned off her computer when it was not in use, so I quickly walked over to it and, using the back of my hand, I nudged the mouse. The sound of the computer coming out of hibernation mode filled the room and the screen sprang to life, showing a note written in Notepad was on the screen. Despite Marge, Lori, and Traci coming over to see what it said, I read it aloud. "Everyone, I went to see my dad. I'm sorry that I did not tell you my plan. I'll call at lunchtime. Rose." I turned around and began to make my way to the phone that was besides Rose's bed when Traci said, "I already tried her cell phone, and she did not answer. She must have been kidnapped, otherwise she would have answered!" Apparently, Traci had found out Rose's cell phone number. The idea that a phone call would go unanswered was alien to my dear Traci. Instead of telling her what I thought about her theory of Rose being kidnapped, I continued my way to the phone. On the bedside table next to the phone was a box of tissues, so I pulled out a few and used them to pick up the handset. I was going to use one of my knuckles to dial, but I saw that Pollyanna was number one on the speed dial. Using my knuckle, I pressed that button. "Rose?!?" I could sense trepidation in Pollyanna's voice and was slightly annoyed at Traci for making her earlier phone call. I tried to use a calm and reassuring voice when I spoke. "Pollyanna, it's Chad. Rose appears to be fine. It seems that she went to see her father." "Oh... oh!" she replied. While the first 'oh' was one of relief, the second one was of surprise. After a pregnant pause from Pollyanna, I could sense that she was debating whether to tell me something. Taking a gamble, I asked, "Pollyanna, do you know where Rose's father is incarcerated?" Again, Pollyanna let out a sigh of relief as she answered, "He's at the Santa Barbara County Jail." "Thanks. I'll see you at school, and if I hear anything before then, I'll let you know," I reassured her. "Okay. Thanks, Chad. Bye." After I told the Caspars what Pollyanna told me, Traci asked, "How did you know he was in jail?" Shrugging, I told her, "I didn't. I merely thought that he might be in jail or prison from the letters that Rose received. See, the envelopes were prepaid, but the address was handwritten. Also, the return address looked like it was stamped on, but the name above it was also handwritten. However, I only saw them briefly as the postal worker handed them to Rose, so I wasn't to sure about what I'd seen." "I think you're right, Chad. When I was in the backseat with her, I didn't see the return address part, but I do remember seeing that it was a prepaid envelope," commented Marge. Traci asked, "Why didn't Rose tell us that her father was in jail?" After a moment's thought, I theorized, "I don't think Rose really meant to keep it a secret. I think she told Pollyanna and left the decision to tell us up to her." "Still, Pollyanna should have told us," Traci replied. "Love, why is it that Helen Blocker and Julie Jennings seem to know that I shave my pubic hair?" I asked with a smile. Traci glanced down at my exposed cock before protesting, "All I told them was that giving head was fun, especially if the pubes were shaved! Besides, you never told me not to tell anyone." I did not mind others knowing that I shaved my pubic hair, and I was glad that she had only told her fellow cheerleaders instead of the entire health class. Still... "Love, it is not that you can't be trusted to keep a secret; you've kept my relationships with your sister and mother under wraps. It is just that sometimes you don't know what should be kept private, is all." Traci gave a little pout but she did not rebut what I said. Instead, she asked, "You don't think she was kidnapped?" I nodded and said, "I'm ninety-three percent sure that Rose went down to see her father." As I listed off my observations, I went back to the computer and took ahold of the mouse. Despite my confidence, I refrained from touching the keyboard with my fingertips and instead relied on the mouse to navigate my way. I launched the Firefox web browser and discovered that the history was cleared. Figuring that the cache was cleared, as well, I decided to examine the cookies. I found one for Greyhound.com that was set to expire in a year from the previous day. "Ninety-seven percent sure, now," I commented as I shutdown the computer. While the video feeds in the house were no longer being recorded on the computer in the master bedroom, I could always slip down to the panic room and check the computer down there. I figured that it would cache at least the past seventy-two hours and knew that I would be down there if we did not receive a phone call at lunch. "Shit! We need to get ready for school!" ------- When the bell rang for lunch, Lori and I were out of our math class like bats out of hell. Despite the fact that we practically ran to the Quad, Michelle, Traci, and Pollyanna were already at the table that we ate at when we got there. Lori and I sat down, and only a few minutes later, Traci's phone rang. "Rose! Are you okay? We've been worried about you! When did... oh, okay." Traci tried not to look disappointed when she handed me her phone and said, "She wants to talk to you." "Hi, Rose. Were you able to see your father?" I could picture the tears of joy that flowed from her eyes as she answered, "I was! They even let me stay a little longer than they should have. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you what I was doing." "What's done is done. Don't worry about it. What time does your bus get back?" "It arrives at Log Cabin at five forty-seven," Rose answered. Log Cabin was a small convenience store that was only a few blocks from the school. The Greyhound buses usually skipped Central City and instead made stops at San Luis Obispo and Santa Maria. They did have a few 'milk run' routes that would stop at the smaller towns along their route, which explained why Rose had such a long time until she was able to return. "Okay. We'll pick you up at Log Cabin at five forty-seven," I told her. "You don't need to do that! It's not far from home, and I can walk," Rose protested. "We'll pick you up at Log Cabin at five forty-seven," I repeated, a tad more firmly. "Okay. Thanks, Chad. Can you pass the phone to Pollyanna?" I handed the phone to Pollyanna, and the conversation that they had lasted just under thirty seconds. After Pollyanna told Rose that she loved her, she ended the call and handed the phone back to a crestfallen Traci. "Call your mom and let her know that Rose is fine and that her bus arrives at Log Cabin at five forty-seven." As Traci scrolled through her phonebook looking up Marge's cell phone number, she mused, "Rose could have at least talked to me." "She didn't want to use up all of her minutes. Besides, she knew that lunch ends in twenty minutes, and she wanted you to have enough time to eat." Pollyanna replied, smiling. I had only seen Pollyanna briefly in the morning during the break, but I somehow felt that it was the first time she had smiled all day. Lori was getting up, since it appeared that everything was okay. "Can I use your car this afternoon?" I asked her. "Sure. I just need to grab my track bag from the trunk. I can grab it now or we can meet at my car after school." I told Lori, "After school's good. I'll need to check with Coach Forrest to see if he'll let me get out of practice early. Nodding, she said, "I'm sure Coach King will let me out of practice, as well. Parking lot at five thirty?" "Sounds good." "Okay. I told Teddy that I was going to be eating lunch with him, so I had better get going." I smiled, and everyone except Traci bid her farewell. When Traci finished her call with her mom, she asked what was going on. When I told her about meeting in the parking lot at five thirty, she said she should be able to do that, since there was not a game, so the cheerleaders would be pretty much done with practice by then. "We could meet earlier so that we can have enough time to pick you up at your house," I told Pollyanna. Shaking her head, she said, "I can wait here. I'll just go to the library." "Or Mom could give you a ride," offered Michelle. "I'm pretty sure she can take us both there." "Okay, let's do that. Actually, I'll just go home with you, then. I'll just give Mom a call and let her know what's going on," Pollyanna told Michelle. I thought about offering Traci to make the call, but my dear love had been teased well enough. I began to eat the lunch that Rose had prepared. In our rush to leave the house that morning, we had discovered our lunches in the refrigerator. She must have gotten up quite early to make our lunches before she snuck out of the house. When Pollyanna ended her call, she told Michelle, "Mom said that she'll meet us at Log Cabin. She said that she could even pick us up if your mom can't take us." "Doesn't she have a yoga class to teach at that time?" Michelle asked. "Yeah, she does, but she said that she can start it off and have one of the advanced students take over." "Your mom teaches yoga?" I asked Pollyanna. Rolling her eyes, she answered, "Yeah. She's flexible and can tie herself in knots. I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if she could lick her o--" Pollyanna cut herself off from what she was about to reveal, but everyone at the table had a very strong idea of where she had been going. Her blush was as red as her lover's hair as everybody else began to laugh. The image of a nude Irene doing what Pollyanna had been about to imply filled my mind, and I felt a slight stirring in my loins. While Mrs. Huntington might be no spring chicken, she was far from being an old hen. ------- Lori let out a small chuckle after Traci theorized, "The kidnappers forced Rose to call, and they knew that I would be able to tell something was wrong, so that's why they didn't want me talking to her." I was sitting next to Traci in the backseat of Lori's car, and I gave her cheek a kiss, saying, "If she's not on the bus, then we'll make sure to tell the police that." Traci flashed me a wry grin, having come to the understanding that she had jumped to a wild conclusion, so she had made her previous statement in jest. Wrapping my arm around Traci's shoulders, we spent the remainder of the brief trip to the convenience store in silence. Marge was leaning against the side of the store when we pulled into the parking lot. I did not see her car, so I figured she must have walked. She appeared to have spotted us as well, because she was at the side of the car by the time we were getting out. Traci wrinkled her nose slightly after hugging her mom, and she gave Marge a strange look. Marge seemed to increase the tempo that she was chewing her gum and after I gave Marge a hug, I realized that Traci must have detected the faint scent of tobacco that was in her hair and clothes. As stressful as the morning had been, I did not blame Marge for partaking in a cigarette or two. Actually, I was slightly jealous, since I had been unable to. It appeared that Traci was going to confront her mother about what she had smelled when Jean's minivan pulled into the parking lot. The space next to Lori's car was open, so she took that one. As Pollyanna and Michelle were exiting through the sliding side door of the minivan, Irene pulled into the parking lot and parked on the other side of Jean. We all gathered in a cluster, and after greetings were exchanged, I told Irene, "Pollyanna says that you're very flexible." Traci and Michelle began to chuckle, while Pollyanna turned an interesting shade of red. Irene smiled at the reaction that my comment had caused and nodded. She was dressed in a leotard, and despite the baggy sweatshirt that she had donned, I could not help but note what a fantastic body she had despite her age. Lifting her leg up, she took hold of her ankle, and before I knew it, she had her foot next to her ear. She reached out and rested her left hand on Pollyanna's shoulder, though it did not seem to be actually necessary for her to maintain her balance. "Damn! You should take up yoga," I mentioned to Traci after I had let out a low whistle. Traci rolled her eyes and proceeded to copy Mrs. Huntington's stance. She was still dressed in the sweats she had worn for cheerleading practice, yet she could not get her foot as close to her ear as Irene had hers; it was nevertheless impressive. Lori grinned and matched Traci's pose, though her foot was closer to her ear than Traci's was. I could not help but wonder what other people were thinking when three of the eight of us were standing on one foot in such outrageous poses. Once everyone had both feet firmly planted on earth again, Irene said, "Yoga is not just about flexibility; it is a path of mental and physical purification. Though, it can really spice up your sex life." "Mom!" Pollyanna protested while the rest of us began to chuckle. As the laughter died down, I noticed Traci taking out her cell phone and checking its screen. A small frown crossed her pretty face, so I asked her, "What's wrong?" "Rose hasn't called." "Well, she is on a bus, after all. She doesn't want to disturb her fellow passengers by talking on the phone," I conjectured. Traci only rolled her eyes slightly when she told me, "That's why God created text-messaging." I was about to tell her my doubts about the Almighty creating instant messaging when her phone began to ring. She did not bother seeing whom it was from and instead simply brought it up to her ear as she pressed the receive button. "Hello? Hello?" Traci spoke into the phone. The connection must have been broken, because Traci started to lower the phone from her ear. Before she could look up who had called her, the phone rang once more, and Traci quickly answered it. As Traci spoke into the phone again and seemed not to receive a reply, Pollyanna and Michelle started to giggle. I noted that both girls had their hands behind their backs, and when Pollyanna noticed me looking at them, she gave me a wink. I gave the two of them a large grin. The third time the phone rang, Traci did not answer it immediately but checked the screen to see who was calling first. Her head snapped up, and she glared at Michelle and Pollyanna, who had begun to crack up and laugh hardily. "Skanks!" Traci spat. "Tracy Lovett Caspar!" Marge admonished her. Everyone except for Traci and Marge had begun to laugh, but Jean and Irene did make an effort to chide their daughters. As the three girls began to apologize to each other, the sound of a bus approaching reached our ears, and we turned to see a Greyhound bus coming down the street towards us. When Rose stepped off the bus, we all mobbed her, and the few other people that disembarked must have thought that the redhead had been gone for days instead of a few hours by the way we welcomed her. Rose seemed stunned that her disappearance had caused such a reaction from us and seemed to grow redder with each hug she received. Though everyone was dying to hear about what happened with her meeting with her father, we decided to wait until we were back at the house. Traci joined Michelle, Pollyanna, and Rose in Jean's minivan, while Marge and I got into the backseat of Lori's car. We formed a small caravan as we pulled out of the parking lot. "Are you okay?" I asked Marge after she let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I guess. I'll be perfectly honest: a small part of me actually believed Traci this morning, though a larger part was afraid that she had run away. Not knowing where your child is has to be the biggest fear that any parent can face. I know that Rose isn't technically my daughter, but still I'm just a little disappointed that she couldn't come and tell me first." Feeling the hurt in her voice, I moved my hand from where it had been resting on her knee and brought it around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. I gave her a consoling kiss -- though by the time we had pulled into the driveway; her chewing gum had somehow migrated into my mouth. Traci was not the only one to notice that I was chewing her mom's gum; Jean gave Marge a playful nudge as we entered the house. Traci settled into her father's chair, with Marge and Lori sitting on its armrests. Pollyanna sat in the chair opposite of Traci with Rose on her lap, Pollyanna's arms wrapped protectively around her girlfriend's waist. I think Traci would have preferred that I share her seat as they did, but she hid her disappointment well as I sat on the couch with Michelle, Jean, and Irene. "I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you that I was going to see my dad this morning," Rose apologized profusely. "We thought you were kidnapped!" Traci told her. After I loudly cleared my throat, she clarified, "Okay, I thought you were kidnapped." "What! But I left a note on the computer, and I even disabled the screensaver so that you would see it as soon as you checked my room," replied a confused Rose. Giving her a reassuring smile, I explained, "Yeah, but it looks like you forgot to change the power settings. The computer slipped into hibernation mode, so we did not see it right away." "Shit! I'm sorry. It was all kinda last-minute, and I should have thought it through. I'm sorry--" "Rose," I said, cutting her off. "You really don't need to keep telling us you're sorry. You've apologized for the actions that you took which caused us to worry. I think I can safely speak for everyone here that you are forgiven." Everybody nodded in agreement, and tears began to well up in Rose's eyes. While Pollyanna could not see Rose's facial reaction, she seemed to sense it and leaned forward to rest her chin on Rose's shoulder. After Rose reached up to brush the back of her hand against her eyes, she paused to caress her lover's cheek with her palm before lowering her hand. It took a minute for Rose to recover, and when she spoke, there was an emotional edge to her voice. "There was just soooo much stuff I wanted to tell Dad, but I couldn't include it in the letter. Me being gay, Mrs. Caspar adopting me, and even Mom leaving were just a few of the things that I had to tell him in person and not by letter. I called his jail yesterday and found out that his visitation time was this morning, so I went online and got myself a bus ticket. I'm sor... I should have said something last night, but..." Rose's voice trailed off, and after a few seconds, Jean asked, "But what?" "I was afraid that Mrs. Caspar or Lori would insist on driving me," said Rose. She then looked towards the Caspars and added, "I didn't want you two to miss work or school because of me." It seemed like Marge was about to protest, so I interjected, "What about during the weekend? Doesn't the jail have visitation time during then?" "Yes, but his section's time is from four to seven on Saturdays. I didn't want to mess up Game Night." It was then my turn to protest, but I quickly held my tongue. There would be plenty of enough time later to explain to her that we could always start later or even cancel it if need be. Rose's concern for others was a wonderful trait, but she needed to learn that it was okay to be selfish once in a while. "When I got down to the jail, they wouldn't allow me to see him, at first. They told me that I had to be with a parent or guardian. I ended up telling them everything: Dad disappearing, Mom kicking me out and then moving away, about how I was in the process of being adopted, and so on. Well, one of the guards who had come over to listen to my story knew who Dad was. He's been in there for a few months now, and I guess he's been a model inmate, so this guy convinced the others to take pity on me. He even volunteered to watch my wallet while I met with Dad, since they don't have storage facilities there. I think the only reason why they let me keep my handbag and letters was because I had even told them about my birthday." Rose was excited enough by then to sit forward, almost out of Pollyanna's grasp, as she continued. "I was taken to a large room with a bunch of tables and chairs. I was shown to one, and after what seemed like an eternity, they brought in Dad. They apparently hadn't told him whom he was seeing, because his eyes grew as wide as saucers when he saw me. He told me, after he sat down, that he wanted to dash up to me and give me a hug, but he had been in jail enough times to know not to do that. I've never seen him with hair so long; it was longer than Chad's!" Rose's exclamation provoked a few polite chuckles before she continued with the rest of her tale. "We were told that we had to keep our hands in sight but we were allowed to hold hands. So, we did, but Dad was so excited, it felt like he was trying to pack a lifetime of hugs into that gesture; I guess I must have winced, because Dad loosened his grip. He must have apologized to me over a dozen times before I stopped him. He had left me a letter explaining why he had to leave, but I guess Mom must have found it and destroyed it. He has been writing to me at least once a week ever since he left, and he was shocked when he got my letter yesterday. He would even send me Birthday and Christmas presents when he could, and I think he was as angry as I was when he found out that I hadn't received a single one of them. The fucking cunt probably sold them." There was venom in Rose's voice when she referred to Mrs. Goodwin, and I doubted that her anger was at the loss of gifts themselves, but the fact that she was denied connection with her father. "Dad told me why he had to leave the house. Mom had treated Dad worse than she did me, and it had gotten to the point where he started to fantasize about killing Mom. He woke up early one morning and found himself holding a pillow above Mom's face, poised to snuff her. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped himself, because he knew if he killed Mom, he would be sent to prison and I would be without two parents. He waited until Mom went off to work and I had gone to school to write me a long letter, explaining that he had to leave. He promised to write to me and hoped that one day I would forgive him for abandoning me." Rose sighed. "We guess that Mom must have figured that Dad was acting fishy, because she came home early that day. She must have found the note and destroyed it. When I came home, she fed me that bullshit story about Dad walking out because he didn't love me or her anymore." Again, there was some anger in her voice directed towards her mother, but she paused to take a cleansing breath. Once she composed herself, she told us, "Dad has been traveling town to town, working odd jobs when he can. He doesn't care for panhandling, but will do it if all else fails. When it would get really dire or especially cold at night, he would do something petty so that he would get locked up. That way, he gets a warm place to sleep and some hot meals." I was rather surprised that a person would do such a thing, so I found myself asking, "Why wouldn't he just go to a homeless shelter?" Rose let out a snort and answered, "He's probably afraid he would end up getting married." Irene told me, "Errol met Violet through the shelter that her church runs." Nodding her head, Rose said, "Mom would always call Dad a 'worthless bum'. It wasn't until I was older that I found out that's where they met. She would always belittle him and tell him that her biggest mistake was taking him into her home. She also convinced him that no court would ever let him have custody of me because of his legal problems in the past." At this point, Rose unconsciously settled back into Pollyanna's embrace, obviously upset again. "Back in December when we had that cold spell pass through, Dad did something stupid to get arrested. He took a piss on the side of the police station in clear view of some cops. Unfortunately, he got a judge who had sentenced him a few times before and seemed to have caught on to Dad's game. He decided to teach Dad a lesson by sentencing him to a year in jail by using 'bio-terrorism' or some other bullshit excuse. He'll most likely only have to do six to nine months if he keeps his nose clean." "After Dad finished telling me his story, I told him what had been going on ever since he left. I kinda glossed over the reason why Mom kicked me out of the house; I think Dad sensed that I was hiding something, but did not press me at all. He was so happy to hear that I was finally allowed to have a birthday party, since Mom had always forbidden it. It was while I was showing him the purse that Michelle had given me that I worked up the courage to show him the letters that were inside of it. I was nearly petrified when I told him that I was in love with a girl and that the letters were from her. I was so fearful that he would be angry, but he was happy! Tickled, even! He told me that he was always afraid that I would never know what love was, given how he and Mom didn't seem to love each other. He was delighted when I told him that my girlfriend was Polly; he said that, of all my friends, Polly was the prettiest." Tears were freely rolling down the sides of Rose's cheeks, and she was not the only one; there was not a dry eye in the room as Rose's emotion-ridden voice affected us all. As well, Michelle and Traci did not protest Mr. Goodwin's assessment of Pollyanna being the prettiest and were in fact nodding in agreement. "Well, once I was able to tell him about me being gay, and he accepted me, I must have sounded like Traci as I talked non-stop for twenty minutes." "Hey!" protested my chatty girlfriend. "I do pause once in a while to allow the other person to agree with me." Everybody chuckled as Traci shot Rose a grin. When the chuckling subsided, Rose turned to me and said, "Dad wanted me to pass on his thanks for taking me in and caring for me after Mom kicked me out." I smiled and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Even with the break of laughter, it was hard not to be caught up in the rollercoaster of emotions that Rose must have felt as she told her story. "When I got to the part about Mom selling the house and leaving, he was as shocked as I had been. You see, Mom inherited the house from her parents, and Dad thought that she would never part with it. He had no idea where she could have gone, since she considered her relatives as 'sinners' and had never wanted to have any part of their 'wicked ways'. I then told him about how Mrs. Caspar was in the process of adopting me, but there was still time for him to contest it if he wanted to. He told me that it would probably be a much better idea to allow it to go through, since he could never provide me with the security that she could. I told him that I didn't need security, but he was quite adamant that it go through. He just hopes that Mrs. Caspar will allow him to see me once in a while." "Of course!" Marge said to Rose as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Rose told her, "Dad wanted me to thank you, as well, for doing this for me. He said he had always liked you and Mr. Caspar, and he thought that the world had lost a good man when he died." Despite just speaking a few seconds earlier, Marge merely nodded, and I felt she, like me, did not trust herself with words at that moment. "Anyways, I think we ended up talking twice as long as Dad was allowed. When the guard came to take Dad away, he turned a blind eye to me and Dad hugging," Rose said with her eyes closed and a smile on her face, most likely visualizing the experience. Pollyanna seemed to assist in the process by tightening her grip around her girlfriend's waist and pressing her upper body into her back. After a moment, Rose opened her eyes and told us, "Afterwards, I was able to put $500 on his books, so that he could buy stuff like extra food and toiletries in the jail, though he could only spend up to $50 a week. They told me that I could also send him books, but they would either have to be shipped from the publisher or an online bookstore like Amazon.com." "It's outside of his area of specialties, but I could have Geoff look into your father's case and see if he could get him out. If he can't, he most likely knows somebody who can. It sounds like the case against him is rather weak," Jean told Rose. Shaking her head, Rose said, "I told Dad that I could hire him a lawyer, but he told me not to bother. He said it was his screw-up and that he actually liked being in jail. Besides the 'free' food and board, he was able to play basketball and chess with the other inmates. Also, they offer workshops, and he has been working on getting his G.E.D." The fact that Mr. Goodwin was without a high school diploma reaffirmed my theory that he had most likely run away from home when he was a teenager. It was good to hear that he was attempting to get a General Education Diploma, since that would assist him after he got out and was job-hunting. There was more than one dubious look on the faces of the women in the room, but they remained silent. I asked Rose, "Once your dad is out, do you think he would like to stay here? We do have a spare bedroom--" "Oh no! I don't think he could accept that, Chad. You have done so much for me already, that I don't think he could possibility accept that offer. Besides, Dad would consider that charity, and he doesn't care much for that. I guess he was really in dire straits when he went to the shelter that Mom was working at. As for jail, he looks at it as him taking advantage of his tax dollars. Also, Dad told me that the longest he had ever stayed in one place was while he was married to Mom in Central City. He told me that, as much as he loves me and wants to spend time with me, he feels the open road calling him. I know my Dad is kinda strange, but he can be quite stubborn." I bit my comment about the apple not falling far from the tree and shrugged my shoulders. As I was formulating a way for Mr. Goodwin to stay in the house that would not be considered charity, Irene said, "He can stay with us. We have a spare bedroom that he could use whenever he was in town, and he could 'pay' for it by doing odd jobs for us." Although Rose had pretty much recomposed herself, the compassionate offer from her girlfriend's mother to house her father seemed too much, and her tears were renewed. "I'll tell him that the next time I talk to him. Oh! I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Caspar, but I gave Dad your telephone number so that he can call me collect from the jail." Marge replied, "Of course I don't mind, dear." "Wouldn't it make more sense for him to have my number, so that he at least had a small chance of getting through?" I asked Rose while jerking my thumb towards the girl sitting opposite her. "Hey!" objected Traci. "Nope. Unlike you, Mrs. Caspar gets her phone bill mailed to her, and I can see how much I need to reimburse her. Besides, I warned Dad to call me before Traci got home, otherwise he'll get a busy signal," replied Rose with a large grin. "Hey!!" Marge told her youngest daughter, "Honestly, dear, I thought we solved the phone problem when I got you the unlimited-minutes plan for your cell phone." "What is this now, everybody gang up on Traci?!? I've told you before that I sometimes lose reception in the bedroom, as well as the fact that I need to use a speakerphone," protested Traci. Everybody chuckled at Traci, and she gave one of her faux pouts; her eyes betraying the fact that she had found it as amusing as the rest of us. The reason why Traci 'needed' a speakerphone was so that she could have her hands free to instant message people while she talked. On more than one occasion, I had gone into our bedroom to discover her having a conference call with her friends, as well as carrying on multiple instant message sessions. I think the pinnacle of her absurd communicational behavior was when I entered our room one night and she announced my presence. Amongst the chorus of 'Hi, Chad's' was a familiar voice; the fact that she was almost directly above us in her own bedroom was not lost on me. ------- Chapter 42 "Have a nice trip. See you next fall." - C. Chase When I walked Lori to the Quad on Thursday, I did not enter it. Instead, I said goodbye to Lori and walked down to the social science wing. When I entered Ms. Miyazawa's classroom, Rose, Chuck, David, and a couple of freshman girls were already inside. As more students started to file into the classroom, I found an empty desk towards the back and tried to slip in unobserved. However, Rose noticed my presence in less than a minute and came over to me. "Oh my god, I can't believe that this is happening!" Rose told me, her voice a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Giving her my most reassuring smile, I asked her, "You ready for it?" "I think so, though if Mike doesn't get here soon, I'm going to kick his ass. Ms. Miyazawa told me that she was a little worried when I didn't come to school yesterday, but I explained that I'd had a family emergency." I nodded in understanding. Rose had had a perfect attendance until she had made her trip down to see her father the previous day. As I was about to tell her she should relax, Mike came through the door and Rose excused herself to go talk to him. I took that opportunity to retrieve the bento box that Rose had prepared that morning. As emotionally draining as the previous day had been for her, she had still had the energy to wake up early and prepare Japanese lunchboxes for everybody in the household, including Marge. When I removed the lid, I was greeted by a rabbit looking up at me. Besides pickled veggies and omelet, there was a bed of rice in the largest compartment. Using an umeboshi (pickled plum), some thinly sliced nori (dried seaweed), and sesame seeds, she had constructed a rabbit's face. It felt shameful to destroy such a pretty design, but hunger won out over aesthetics and, using my chopsticks, I dug in. Rose and Mike must have decided that everybody who was going to show up had, so the two of them went up to stand in front of the classroom. Whereas Rose had appeared to be nervous and excited, Mike seemed to be just nervous. He gave Rose a couple of pleading looks before he finally cleared his throat and began to speak. "Hi, everyone. My name is Mike Richards, and I would like to thank you all for showing an interest in our attempt to form a school club. Since this is Rose's brainchild, I think it best that she explain it." Rose shot a glare at Mike for what seemed to be an unexpected development, but when she addressed the room, she had a smile on her face. "The idea of this club is to explore and promote Japanese culture. Besides anime and manga, we want to also explore other aspects of Japanese society, be it CosPlay, language, cooking, games, and so forth. Before we decide upon what to call ourselves, I think our first order of business is to officially nominate and vote on a leader. Me and my friends picked on... I mean, picked Mike, but anybody else can take on that responsibility if they so want to. That being said, I nominate Mike." Mike's eyes grew wide, and he did not comment on Rose's Freudian slip about being picked on as he realized that, in turning over the meeting to Rose, he had let the opportunity to nominate Rose or somebody else first pass him by. After David had seconded the nomination, he tried to rectify the situation by nominating Rose. A few of the freshman girls looked up at Rose in response, but she gave them a small headshake, so that motion went exactly nowhere. When nobody else was nominated, a vote was called; all the students but one raised their hand, signaling those in favor for Mike. While it was not necessary, Rose asked for those opposed, and Mike hung his head low as he raised his hand. "Okay, motion approved. Mike will be our gichou?" Rose announced, and she looked to Ms. Miyazawa for confirmation that she had used the correct word. As Ms. Miyazawa was nodding in agreement for the Japanese word for 'chairman', Mike said, "I pick Rose to be my fukugichou. All those in favor?" Since Rose had expressed a disinterest in being the vice-chairman, I figured that it was wisest to abstain from the vote; though it did not matter in the end, as Rose was overwhelmingly approved. "How long should the term of office last?" asked Stacy Midfield, the lone junior female in the room. "'Til the end of the school year?" supplied Mike hopefully. "Jesus, Mike! Grow some balls. Rose has bigger ones than you do," David said laughingly. Ms. Miyazawa cleared her throat, reminding everybody of her presence in the room. Rose distracted her by asking her what type of bird was outside the window. Ms. Miyazawa kept her head turned long enough for Rose to walk over to David and deliver him a dope slap. As Rose was walking back to the front of the classroom, Ms. Miyazawa smiled and told her, "I do believe that is a crow." Once the laughter over my friends' antics had settled down, it was Chuck who suggested, "I think that whomever is gichou should be so until they graduate or leave school, in which case the fukugichou will become gichou, and they will choose an underclassman to be their second. At that time, the club will vote whether to approve the new chairman's choice." Rose had a look of surprise as she realized that, starting her junior year, she would become the leader of the club. She started to protest, but as the majority of the room began to nod their heads, she let out a long sigh and accepted it. Before we moved on to what the role of the club would be, it was decided that we needed to have a name. Besides Rose's ACME, there were several other suggestions, but it was John's BAKA that gathered the most interest. "While Boring Anime Komic Association is cute, I don't know if we want to be known as 'boring'," Rose said dubiously. Shrugging, John told her, "I couldn't think of any other 'B' words that fit." "What about 'boeotian'? That means stupid. Or 'bêtise', which means a foolish act," supplied Mike. I began to suspect that he had the same English teacher that Lori had had, to be able to recall such obscure words. It appeared that we were about to agree upon a name, when one of the freshmen girls spoke up. I later found out that her name was Taylor Koch. "I understand that most the people here are into comics and animation, but I showed up 'cause Rose said that the club would also deal with cooking and creating outfits. I don't mind being called the Bêtise Anime Komic Assembly, but we might be able to attract more members if they don't think it's all about cartoons and comics." After a short debate, we decided to call the club JAC4: Japanese Arts and Culture Council of Central City. It was also agreed upon that the name was subject to change if a better name could be devised. JAC4 would serve as an umbrella organization for subcommittees that would address the interests that Taylor had brought up, as well as some other interests that others suggested. Ms. Miyazawa informed us that, since she usually ate her lunch in her classroom, the subcommittees were free to meet there during lunch. She also volunteered her classroom for up to an hour after school three days a week -- with the stipulation that one of those afternoons would be dedicated to learning Japanese. Marty Torres, a junior, was an aide for Mr. Graham, the creative food teacher, and volunteered to check with him to see if his classroom was available either at lunch or after school for those who wanted to learn about Japanese cooking. By the time that the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch, a list of the subcommittees and those who were interested in them was created. Mike and Rose told everyone that they would try to come up with a schedule by the time we met again the following week. We were also to discuss fundraising and what stuff to purchase at that time, as well. As I was leaving the classroom, Stacy came up to me and asked, "Hey, Chad, where's Traci? I thought for sure she was going to be here, since she's the one who told me about this club." Nodding, I explained to the junior varsity head cheerleader, "Well, Traci does like anime and manga, but not as much as Rose and me. Besides, it kinda goes back to the beginning of the school year. You see, I usually eat lunch with Traci and her friends, except for one day of the week when Rose and I hang out with Chuck and the gang. I make it up to them by hosting a lunch on Saturdays." Since I did not need to stop by my locker for my world history class, I ended up walking Stacy to hers while we conversed. "Ah yes, I think I remember her telling me about your lunches. She says that's the reason why she can't attend our slumber parties." Frowning slightly, I told her, "Odd, we eat lunch at noon, so she would have plenty of time to get back. Well, you girls can always sleep over at our house." Stacy let out a short chuckle and shook her head. "Oh no, we can't do that. We've all heard about Traci's first sleepover at your place. Though, I think there might be a couple of girls on the squad who might want to see for themselves what Traci described." She accented her point by casting a sideways glance at my crotch. "Keech! Does my girlfriend have to tell everyone everything?" I asked aloud in mock surprise. I smiled as Stacy laughed, but part of me was wondering why Traci was avoiding the cheerleading sleepovers. ------- A few nights later, I finally figured out why Traci was passing up the slumber parties. Marge and I had finished a long (and rigorous) lovemaking session. As I was spooning Marge, I found myself drifting off to sleep, only to have her slip out of my arms and began to shake me. "Chad, wake up!" "Again?!? I'm sorry, but unless you have some Viagra, I'm out of commission. Hell, even my tongue is tired," I protested. Rolling her eyes, Marge said, "You need to go sleep in your own bed." "Oh, I see. You're just going to use me and then kick me out of bed. What's wrong with sleeping with one of the women that I love?" Marge's look of resolve weakened for a moment at that, but she was firm when she said, "Oh no, I'm not going to have your first night away from Traci on my head." My eyes had been only half-open, but when Marge's words hit me, I found them growing wide. Ever since the Caspars had moved in, Traci and I had spent every night together. Even on Lori's birthday, when we had planned to sleep apart, we still found ourselves sleeping together. "When I told her this afternoon that I was most likely going to spend the night with you, she didn't have a problem with it." "Well, she was most likely putting on a strong front," explained Marge. "If I know my daughter right, she won't sleep a wink tonight." The idea of being akin to a security blanket was a tad troubling, but I trusted Marge's assessment. After I got out bed, I reached out and offered her my hand. "What?" "If Traci truly does need me to sleep with her, it doesn't stop me from wanting to sleep with you. Come on," I told Marge. Marge looked up and studied me for a few moments, and I could see the internal struggle on her face. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and took ahold of my hand, and I helped her out of bed. She let go of my hand long enough to put on her bathrobe, then the two of us left her room and went down to the master bedroom. Traci was sitting up in bed, with the covers drawn to her waist. She was wearing her white pajamas with large red and blue polka dots. She set down the book she was reading when Marge and I entered the room. "What's up?" Traci asked us. "Your mom's convinced that you won't get any sleep unless I'm with you," I told her. Shrugging, Traci said, "I don't know about that. I'm not tired, so I thought I would read a book for English." As Marge and I approached the bed, I was able to see the title of the book she had been reading. Surprised, since it was a book that I had been assigned the previous semester, I asked, "They're making you read that, too?" Traci let out a snort and replied, "No, though it will probably take me a year to finish it. I swear, it's as if the shift and period buttons broke on this guy's keyboard." I was about to explain that Faulkner wrote the novel before the advent of the word processor, when Traci shot me a grin to signal that she was only joking. I then remembered that Traci was not taking English this year, since she had taken it during summer school. I let go of Marge's hand as I crawled into bed; Marge remained standing and looked to Traci, as if asking for permission. Traci scooted over and indicated to her mother that she should join us. Marge gave Traci a gentle smile before letting her robe drop to the floor and climbing under the sheets. I noticed Traci averted her eyes while her mother disrobed, and when she reached to turn off the lights, I stopped her. As tired as I was, I had a few questions I wanted to ask Traci and I wanted to judge her facial reactions. "Buttercup, have you been blowing off slumber parties with your squad because you don't want to be separated from me?" Traci frowned ever so slightly and shook her head. "Nah, I just figured it would be the same as it was like in junior high: staying up all night and gossiping with each other." Marge let out an audible scoff, despite the fact she was lying on her side and facing away from us. Even I had trouble imagining that Traci would pass up the chance to exchange information that, despite being trivial, seemed vital to her school life existence. Instead of challenging her verbally, I fixed her with a stare. "Okay, fine," Traci said after half a minute of me staring at her. "I prefer sleeping with you. It's not that big of a deal if I skip out on a couple of sleepovers." "Actually, it is. You remember what I told Lori about my fear of BDSM consuming her? Well, I feel just the same about our relationship. You need to spend time with your friends, separate from me. Don't get me wrong; I cherish every moment we spend together. However, if you spend too much time with me, you'll realize what a jerk I am." "You shouldn't worry about that; I know that you're a jerk. But you're my jerk," Traci said with a twinkle in her eyes. Nodding, I told her, "Besides, there will be times that we will be forced to be separated and--" "Forced?" Marge asked, rolling over to look at us. She arched an eyebrow, and I was fairly certain that she was just 'busting my chops'. After I gave her a soft kiss, I explained, "I wasn't talking about tonight." That seemed to satisfy Marge, but she remained on her side facing us so that she could watch our conversation. Turning my attention back to Traci, I told her, "Take golf for an example. There is an upcoming tournament that will require me to spend a few nights away from home." "If you're talking about the one down in Oxnard, that'll be during spring break, and we'll be in Japan when it is going on," pointed out Traci. Traci was correct, the Oxnard tournament was held during spring break, and I had already checked with Coach Forrest about missing it before I tried out for the golf team. "But if we make the California Interscholastic Federation playoffs, then that will require the team to possibly travel--" "You won't make CIF," Traci interrupted confidently as she shook her head. "Okay, what about water polo? Coach Walters won't let us have a separate room when we play in the Ventura tournament." "I'll sneak you into my room. I'm sure that Fran and the other girls won't mind your presence." I let out an exasperated sigh and let my body collapse. While I was usually up to the challenge of these little disagreements, I was overcome with sheer exhaustion. I closed my eyes and decided to let Traci win that round. Traci snuggled up next to me and whispered into my ear, "I just bet that the only reason why you are so insistent that I go to a sleepover is because you think that all the stuff that Lori said was true. I bet you get turned on just thinking about me and the rest of the girls in a room, jilling ourselves next to one another." As Traci whispered into my ear, I felt her hand sliding down my chest toward my manhood. She wrapped her fingers around my cock and slowly began to pump it. While she was usually able to bring me up with her hand, I was 'over-cummed'. After a minute of her trying to get me erect, I opened my eyes and told her, "Buttercup, you'll have more success squeezing blood from a stone than getting me hard." "You broke my boyfriend!" Traci accused Marge. I turned my head and saw that Marge had a bemused expression on her face. She told Traci, "Hey, I can't help it if he peters out after four times." "Four times! I don't think I've ever gotten him to come four times!" "Is it my fault that you don't know how to please your boyfriend?" "'Our boyfriend'," I corrected Marge. "I like to think of you as one of my girlfriends and was hoping that you thought as me as your boyfriend -- though right now I'm feeling like just a hunk of meat. Besides, that last time that I came in your ass, I doubt if a couple of drops of cum came out of me." Marge and I both chuckled when Traci suddenly yanked away her hand. "It's okay, dear," Marge explained to Traci, once she had composed herself. "I had an enema beforehand, then I cleaned him off afterwards." Traci studied both of us, as if she did not fully trust us, before her hand returned to where it had been. She had to remove it briefly when I asked her to turn off her bedside light, but promptly returned her grip there. While she no longer tried to get me hard, she seemed to take comfort in just holding my cock. When Marge turned back to her other side, I rolled over so that I could spoon her. Traci again released her hold on me momentarily. After a half a minute, I felt Traci's bare chest pressed into my back as she began to spoon me; she had kept on her pajama top but had unbuttoned it. She resumed her hold on me until Marge pressed her ass into my groin. As Traci began to pull away, I decided to have a little fun and thrust my pelvis forward, trapping Traci's hand between her mom and me. Marge and I tried to keep Traci's hand there as long as possible, though after a not-so-gentle squeeze from Traci, she was able to extract her hand. ------- "I'm late." I was eating lunch with the girls at our usual table, though my attention was diverted elsewhere. Ever since the new semester started, I had started to use my laptop during lunch to crack the school's Wired Equivalent Privacy. Central High had two networks: an open network for students and a WEP-protected one for the staff. One of the drawbacks to the open network was that it blocked the downloading of MP3 files and BitTorrents. I did not care too much about the BitTorrents, but the MP3 files were the ones that I was interested in grabbing while I was at school. Ever since Air America had started to offer their shows as podcasts, I had started downloading them and putting them on my MP3 player instead of using the program that Bob had set up to capture the streams. The nice thing about the podcasts was that they were free of commercials and there were no dropouts, something that would sometimes occur with the recorded streams. My new schedule meant that I had to leave the house before the podcasts were available for download, so I downloaded the Auditor Security Collection Live CD, a Linux distribution that was specifically made to crack WEPs, and had started collecting packets during lunchtime. It was a tedious process, since network traffic usually picked up during lunch, since the administration also ate at that time, as well. I closed the lid on my laptop to force myself to pay attention to what was going on. Apparently, I was not the only one confused by what Rose had just said. Michelle asked Rose, "What?" "My period," Rose explained, "I'm late. I'm never late. Dad used to always joke that he could set his watch by when I get my period." Pollyanna suggested, "Could be stress. Last week wasn't a picnic, you know." Shaking her head, Rose disagreed. "Trust me, it's not stress. I had more stress living with Mom, especially after Dad left, than what I went through last week." "Pollyanna knocked up Rose!" Traci said in awe. For a few seconds, everybody just stared at Traci in disbelief for a few seconds before we started laughing. Traci had the uncanny ability to say something so innocently that it was tough to determine if she was joking or being serious. The grin on her face after we had started laughing told us that she had made the comment in jest. Once we had recovered laughing, Rose said, "Seriously, I've never been this late nor skipped a period." I ventured, "You'll most likely get it next week when the Caspars have theirs. It is not uncommon for women who live together to have their menstrual cycles sync up." "Oh, great! Not only am I being adopted by them, but I have to adopt their periods as well." Pollyanna and Michelle chuckled at Rose's joke, but Traci gave me a suspicious look. "You know when we have our periods?" Traci asked. "Of course I do. After all, 'I don't trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die.'" Despite mimicking Mr. Garrison's voice perfectly, I received dark looks from all but Rose, who managed to give me a weak smile. I had nearly busted my gut when I heard that line in the South Park movie, but apparently the humor was lost on the girls at the table. I made a mental note to only use that joke with my friends who possessed a Y-chromosome. Uncomfortable with the cold reaction, I quickly theorized, "Birth control pills can sometimes cause havoc with periods." That comment did receive a couple of chuckles at the thought that Rose would be using birth control. One person who did not seem amused was Rose, as she suddenly found her lunch interesting. Pollyanna also noticed Rose's reaction and watched her for a few seconds before exclaiming, "WHAT?!?" Pollyanna's head whipped quickly to glare at me, to which I quickly raised my palms and shook my head. I was unaware that Rose was on birth control. Pollyanna shifted her attention back to Rose and demanded, "When did you start taking birth control?" While I had seen Rose angry on plenty of occasions, it was the first time I had seen such an emotion from Pollyanna. Still keeping her focus downwards, Rose meekly answered, "Last month. You know that I sometimes get cramps so bad that I end up having to stay in bed all day? I can't afford to miss school or doing my housework, so I asked Mrs. Caspar if she could take me to see the doctor so that I could get on the pill, because that is supposed to help with cramps." Rose's answer seemed to only make Pollyanna angrier. It took close to a full minute for Pollyanna to reel in her anger to the point that she was no longer shaking. Traci, Michelle, and I dared not mutter a word lest we be caught in the crossfire. When Pollyanna did speak, she did so softly, not trying to mask the pain in her voice. "I love you with all my heart, but you need to be honest with me. I know that last week, when you went down to see your dad, you didn't tell me because you were afraid that I would have told you to tell Mrs. Caspar or Chad about your plans -- and I would have, since not knowing where somebody is that you care about is sheer torture. I also know that there are things that go on in that house that you don't tell me about, and I respect your sense of loyalty to Chad and the Caspars. But when it comes to your body and wellbeing, you need to be truthful with me. The fact that you didn't tell me you started taking birth control hurts." Pollyanna then quickly gathered up her things and started to leave. Rose looked up, tears streaming down her face, and started to reach out for her. "Don't," Pollyanna firmly told her. "Right now, you are not my favorite person." Pollyanna then strode away as Michelle, Traci, and I spent the remainder of lunch trying to console Rose. ------- The tiff between Rose and Pollyanna only lasted for two periods, as Traci and I soon discovered. Traci had forgotten something in her school locker, so we made a quick detour there before I escorted her to the P.E. locker room after sixth period. Rose's locker was in the same hallway as Traci's, and we found her and Pollyanna expressing their love for each other in a rather passionate embrace. Traci and I were both grinning as we walked up next to them and waited for them to surface for air. Suddenly, I heard a voice dripping with disgust coming from my side. "Fags!" My foot lashed out so fast that I doubted that Traci even detected it. The owner of the voice, whom I had just tripped, stumbled a few feet before falling flat on his face. Even before he landed, I moved to assist him up. The two guys that he had been walking with had stopped and began to laugh at him. "Are you okay?" I asked with mock concern in my voice. When my right hand took ahold of his left elbow, my fingers sought out the proper pressure points and I squeezed hard. His eyes grew wide, and I think he would have screamed out in pain, except he saw the look I had on my face. I then spoke low enough for only him to hear. "If you EVER call my friends that again, I will hurt you. Actually, it would be best if you wiped that word from your vocabulary altogether. Understand?" When he nodded his head, I released my grip on him. His left arm hung limply at his side and tears of pain began to well up when he tried to bend it. I knew that the effects of the pressure points would wear off in about an hour, but I did not share that information with him. I turned around and walked back to my friends. Rose and Pollyanna were no longer making out, but they still kept their hands on each other's waist. I was unsure if they had heard the comment that was directed at them, but I suspected that Rose had, because when I asked who that guy was, Rose let out a small snort and answered, "Jimmy Hirst. He's an asshole I have P.E. with." I had suspected that he had been a freshman, since I had not recognized his face from the previous year's yearbook. As I tried to recall if there had been any students with the last name of Hirst who might be a brother or sister, I cursed myself at my recklessness. I had acted without knowing who the enemy was first, which was just simply baka. I had gone to great lengths in networking with others on campus to avoid violent confrontations, and then I go and throw it all away by acting the way I had done. My self-imposed vow of pacifism included not causing physical harm to others, yet I had tossed it aside just because some homophobic freshman called my friends a name. It was difficult to determine which was more troubling, the fact that I had broke my vow of pacifism or that I had let my emotions get the better of me. ------- Chapter 43 Every increased possession loads us with a new weariness. -Johnny R. A red-faced Rose loudly protested, "I AM NOT A DOUBLE-D!" "You sure, Poppy? I can check them for you," Erin offered. "You touch her, you die," warned Pollyanna with a grin. She added, "I might allow you to feel Rose if you allow me to feel you." "Hey!" objected Rose. Erin let out a snort and replied, "I don't have much to feel." "Yeah, but I've never felt a girl with pierced nipples before." "You'd better not have, and if you keep this up, you never will," warned Rose. Traci commented, "I'm more interested in how my boyfriend knows Rose's measurements." Eight sets of eyes turned their attention towards me, and I shrugged. We were gathered in the living room the evening before our trip, and Pollyanna, Jean, and Michelle had come over to spend the night. Erin had also swung by because she was going to housesit for us while we were gone. I had changed the house alarm code to match Rose's measurements to make it easy for Erin to remember, though I knew that Rose was not a double-D. All of the girls had grown taller over the past six months, but Rose was still the shortest, and while her breasts were equally the same as Marge or Lori's, they appeared larger on her smaller stature. My shrug did not seem to be a good enough answer, so I supplied, "I'm just good at guessing measurements. For example, I would say that Marge's dimensions are--" "Okay! We trust you," interrupted Marge, to everyone's amusement. Despite having a fantastic figure, I knew that she was self-conscious enough to object to having her measurements become public knowledge. When the laughter died down, Erin asked me, "You sure you don't mind me staying here while you guys are away? You're showing an awful lot of trust in me. I could always steal you blind." I shrugged and replied, "If I can't trust you with silly possessions, then there's no way I can trust you with something as irreplaceable as Alyssa." "Alyssa?" Lori asked, blinking in surprise. "It's a name that I'm leaning towards. I figured I'll baptize you when we christen Xanadu," I told her. "Now that's something that I wouldn't mind watching," Erin remarked. "Me too." "MOTHER!" Michelle cried out in embarrassment. Jean grinned and gave me a wink. I was unsure how much of her comment was made in jest, and that frankly scared me. Jean was an attractive woman, and I had picked up signals in the past that hers might be an open marriage, but I would be baka to get involved with her. After all, my life was complicated enough as it was. Again, everybody had a good laugh, though this time it was at Michelle's expense. As the laughter died, I told Erin, "Lori told me how rough it's been getting, so I figured you could use a little break." "That's true," Erin replied, nodding, "My landlord has dropped a few hints that he might not be renewing my lease." "You're welcome to crash here whenever you need to. As you saw, a couple of our friends keep a change of clothes up in the room that you will be staying in; I see no reason why you can't keep some of your stuff here even after we get back." "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," Erin replied. She noticed Pollyanna frowning slightly and joked, "You afraid of me staying in the room next to your girlfriend's, Polly?" Shaking her head, Pollyanna replied, "No, I'm worried about you getting any sleep. You see, Rose gets loud when she comes." I think that fact that Rose turned crimson was not so much from Pollyanna's words, but the fact that Traci, Marge, and I nodded in agreement. As Erin chuckled, Pollyanna noticed Traci looking at her strangely. After a few moments, Pollyanna asked, "What?" "You let her call you 'Polly'," observed Traci. Pollyanna thought for a few seconds and replied, "It's okay. I let my parents, lovers, or potential lovers call me 'Polly'." She then added, in a seductive tone, "Did you want to call me 'Polly'?" "No!" Traci quickly replied, "And Chad had better not either, at least, not until I give him permission to do so." If I had been troubled by Jean flirting, the sight of Rose and Polly nodding in understanding scared me shitless. While Traci allowed me to have some time alone with Marge and/or Lori, she especially enjoyed watching me having sex with the other two women. Over the past month, she had hinted that she would like to see me fucking her friends -- best friends or girls from her cheerleading squad. I had brushed her comments aside since they were made during intercourse, and she had not brought them up otherwise. However, it appeared that Traci might have had a conversation with the two girls regarding the idea of 'sharing' me. ------- Lori, Traci and I were able to arrive to school nine minutes later than usual, since Friday was a half-day due to the following week being spring break. Since Michelle and Pollyanna had stayed over, Rose was going to catch a ride with them instead of us. Passing up the chance to catch another hour's worth of sleep in her lover's arms, Rose still got up early and cooked us breakfast. While Lori was still expected to work out in the weight room during zero-period, Coach Turner had informed Traci and me that class was going to be held in his classroom instead of the swimming pool. Whereas it was a study period for everybody else, Traci and I were able to use that time to take some tests that a few of our more sadistic teachers were inflicting upon the classes on that half-day: Math for her, and World History for me. It was because of tests like these that we still had to attend class that day, despite having to catch a plane later on that morning. While most instructors were understanding and allowed us to make up the tests when we got back, Michelle and Pollyanna had teachers who would not. Fortunately, they were allowed to take those tests during their teachers' first period, even though that was not the period that they had the class. Lori, Traci, Rose, and I decided to show our solidarity and attended school, as well. It also gave us a chance to say goodbye to our friends -- and for me to be reminded the umpteenth time what I needed to keep an eye out for while shopping in anime stores. Marge and Jean were waiting for us in the school parking lot when first period ended. Pollyanna, Rose, and Michelle piled into Jean's minivan, while Lori drove Traci and me in my car. It was usually a twenty-minute trip to San Luis Obispo's regional airport, but we made it there in fifteen. When I had initially come up with the idea for the trip, I had thought that it would be cheaper for us to rent a couple of vehicles and drive to a major hub like Los Angeles or San Jose, but it turned out that it was cheaper to fly out of San Luis. Perhaps it was because the departing flight was routed out of Los Angeles and the returning flight through San Francisco. It was pointless trying to figure out the complicated pricing scheme that airlines used. Scott Weller was flying in the next day, so after Jean had dropped off her load of passengers and luggage at the curb, she drove her minivan to the short-term parking section. Since the hourly parking area was close to the terminal, Lori pulled into there instead of dropping us off. I fed the parking meter three-hour's-worth of quarters, though I shortly found out that it was unnecessary. "Erin!" Traci called out in surprise, being the first one to spot her as we entered the terminal. Erin smiled and accepted the warm hug my girlfriend gave her after she set down her bags. As we gathered around her, Erin explained, "My morning class was canceled, so I was able to talk my friend into giving me a ride down here early." As we nodded in understanding, I caught from the corner of my eye a Transportation Security Administration agent warily looking at Erin. Since he was operating the metal detector, I guessed that he was fearful that our friend was a passenger and was going to easily set it off with as many visible body piercings as she had. "You might as well take these," Lori told Erin, as she handed her the keys to my car. "There's no point of me hauling them all the way to Japan." "You should have just put them in the glove compartment or under the seat, like I did," Jean said. "Oh, I didn't think of that," Lori replied. Michelle asked her mom, "What if you had forgotten something?" "I checked. Besides, have you ever known me to forget something?" "Gee, I don't know," Michelle answered sarcastically. "How about the time that you locked your keys in the car, along with me, when I was two?" Rolling her eyes, Jean replied in an equally sarcastic tone, "Okay, when was the last time I forgot anything important? Besides, it was your father's fault. He always leaves that part out when he tells that story. When he got out, I asked him if he had locked his side, and when he said no, I went ahead, got out and locked mine. Then the fool opens his door and locks it, leaving you and my purse in the car. Anyhow, you were only in there a few minutes until your father unlocked the door with the emergency plastic key that he had in his wallet." "I would have been out a lot sooner if you hadn't been beating up poor old Dad. He says he still has bruises twelve years later." It appeared that this story had been told before, as a couple of girls watched with amusement while the rest of us were chuckling. However, everybody began to chuckle when Jean raised her hands in the air with her thumbs and index fingers extended and formed a 'W' in the air and mouthed, 'Whatever!' Michelle replied by making an 'L' with her right hand and bringing it to her forehead, mouthing, 'Loser!' As much fun as we were having, we were pressed for time, so hurried over and got in line. Fortunately, it was not crowded, so we were issued our boarding passes shortly. Usually, the airlines ask you to arrive two hours before international departure, but I had called American Eagle, the carrier that was flying us to Los Angeles before we transferred to American Airlines, and they had informed me that an hour earlier should be fine. Marge and Jean stepped outside for what I suspected was a cigarette, and I so wanted to join them, but it was a weekday. The presence of security guards, county sheriffs, and TSA agents was also very pervasive. I ended up sitting with the girls, and we passed the time talking with Erin. It was somewhat mundane until Traci brought up one of my habits. "Chad's very anal about keeping the shoebox gassed up. He never lets it get below half a tank," Traci informed Erin, after discussing what Erin was going to be doing the following week. "Duly noted. I'll make sure to fill it up after I get back from Mexico," Erin replied with a wink. Shrugging, I told her, "You're free to use the car however you want." Shaking her head in disbelief, Erin replied, "You sure are free with your belongings." "As I said last night, stuff is stuff and can easily be replaced. Moreover, I'll have my most prized possession with me," I replied, glancing at Lori, who blushed slightly. "Possession?!?" Traci replied, seemingly stressing the singular form. "Buttercup, you own my heart and soul. How could I ever think of you as my possession?" Traci gave me a wide grin amongst the chorus of groans that my remark received. After a moment, Erin suddenly exclaimed, "Shoot! I just realized that my ex is in class right now. I should swing by my place and pick up my stuff. Also, Molly said the last machine should be ready, and the Scion should be large enough to haul it. You won't mind if I take it for a 'test drive', would ya? After all, it's going to be a looong time until Alyssa progresses to the point of being able to handle it." While Erin was directing her question and observation towards me, I noticed that she was watching Lori's reaction out of the corner of her eye. I, too, kept an eye on her when I replied, "Knock yourself out. Actually, not literally! You might consider having somebody present. You can permanently disable yourself if you're not careful." The fucking machine that Erin and I were talking about was actually quite safe for 'solo' use, but those who were listening to our conversation had no way of knowing that. It was humorous to see the girls' eyes grow wide in shock and surprise. Lori's reaction also contained a look of excitement and anticipation, the corners of her mouth twitching as she seemed to suppress a grin. We stood up as Erin began to make her leave. Again, Traci gave her a hug, but she also included a quick kiss on the lips, as well. That led to the rest of us giving her a hug and a chaste kiss -- though, when she and Lori hugged, their kiss seemed to linger longer. Fortunately for us, Erin had foregone her typical 'Goth' makeup, so we did not have to worry about lipstick smudges. We watched Erin leave through the sliding glass doors and make her way towards Marge and Jean. It was then that Traci's wistful comment floored us. "I was soooo tempted to 'slip her some tongue.'" It took a few seconds for Traci to notice our shocked expressions. "What? I was just thinking that her lips were so soft and inviting. What's it like to make out with a girl?" Traci looked back and forth at Pollyanna and Rose, but it was Michelle who answered, "You tell us. You went out with Brian in seventh grade. He was pretty fem." Traci recoiled slightly in surprise and quickly sputtered, "I went out with him for THREE days, and the only thing we did was hold hands." Traci raised three fingers to emphasize her point, but she lowered two of them, giving Michelle a rude gesture before bringing down her hand. Turning to me, she added, "Honest, Chad, you're the only guy I've ever kissed and ever will." I gave the love of my life a gentle smile and told her, "No worries. I'm not jealous or anything, and I've told you before that you are free to do whatever you want as long as you do so willingly and it makes you happy. Now, I'll need to know Brian's last name so we can compare notes." "Ma--" Pollyanna started to supply before Traci quickly spun her head and gave her an evil glare. As we began to chuckle, Rose observed, "'Only guy'? Does that mean that you haven't written off the fairer sex?" Letting out a small snort, Traci told her, "Don't get your hopes up. If I ever decided to see what it's like to play for the other team, it would probably be with Erin." Again, we started to chuckle, but I could not help to notice a slight look of pain in Michelle's eyes. While I had vowed to myself that I would not tell Traci what I --and just about everybody else-- had suspected, I realized I needed to confront Michelle about her feelings. Unfortunately, the times that I had been alone with Michelle were few and far between. In the period that I had known Michelle, she had gotten better at concealing how she felt about Traci, but occasionally, it would surface. I disliked seeing any of my friends suffer and began to debate if I should confront her during our trip or after. The boarding call announcement interrupted my thoughts, and I gathered up my backpack and laptop case. We waited for Marge and Jean to join us before we headed over to the security screening line. I cleared my thoughts and forced myself to remain calm as I neared the x-ray machine. While I was almost certain that it would go smoothly, there was a sliver of a chance that the 'shit would hit the fan'. Whenever the CYA deployed agents in the field with laptop computers, there were two additional features that the computers had that others did not. One was an additional microchip on the motherboard that, when certain keys were held down for five seconds followed by a thirteen-character alphanumeric password, would wipe the hard drive clean and begin writing garbage on it. The advantage to the chip over a program was that it was impossible to bypass, short of removing it. My concern was not over that feature, since it would be impossible to detect via an x-ray machine. The second feature was the one that worried me: plastic explosive. The amount used was typically small, the blast radius limited to two meters. While ineffective as a direct weapon, it was useful as a distractive measure or as a detonator for a larger explosive, especially since, in addition to the complex arming key, the amount of time before it was triggered could be entered. One of the drawbacks was that it was easily detectable, so we were instructed never to travel commercially with them. A few weeks prior, I had found some time to sneak off and test the laptop. I had ended up driving out behind the local lake, Lake Lopez, into the Los Padres National Forest. I had found a secluded section where I was able to pull off to and run my test. There was a tree stump for me to rest the laptop on; the stump was pock-marked with bullets and shotgun pellets; discharged shells were strewn about the clearing, and, from the varying signs of aging, it appeared that this area had been used for target practice many times over the years. I had made a mental note at the time that, if I ever needed to re-accustom myself to firearms, the clearing would make an ideal locale. Since it was highly likely that the explosive would be needed to be armed under extreme pressure, the code always remained the same. Still, I tried it a half-dozen times without anything happening. If I had the proper equipment, I would have disassembled the laptop to be one-hundred-percent sure, but the failsafe of the plastic explosive detonating when being tampered with would most likely be lethal at such close proximity. When I got to the checkpoint's table, I took off my leather jacket, brought out my wallet from my pants and set them in a tray along with my Birkenstocks. I also set down my backpack and laptop case, pausing to take out the laptop and put it in a tray, as well. Logically, I knew that I was letting my paranoia get the better of me. When I used to lend my laptop to Lori, my fears that it was a CYA-modified one were nonexistent. It would have been nearly impossible for her to have armed it, and there would not have been any reason for her to open it up. Nonetheless, I did feel guilty for putting her in even the smallest (nonexistent) jeopardy; similar to how I felt for entering the lives of my friends and the possible danger that I might have brought. After I passed through the metal detector, I kept an eye on the TSA agent who was watching the x-ray machine screen. A mask of boredom was on my face while my mind continued to whirl. Among calculating escape routes and debating how much force was okay with my vow of pacifism, the regret of not going with my first instinct and buying an Apple PowerBook popped up. I had left the computer in the master bedroom on to download the BitTorrent feeds automatically via Really Simple Syndication, RSS. I also doubted that I was going to listen to any of the Air America podcasts during the trip since, as entertaining as the progressive radio programs were, I would sometimes grow upset over the blunders that the government seemed to constantly make. It was the convenience of looking up information -- such as operation times of stores and temples, in addition to train schedules -- that made having a laptop useful. It appeared that the TSA agent was as bored with his duties as I outwardly appeared. As my laptop passed through and he did not even raise an eyebrow, I began to gather up my stuff. It was then that I realized that my role of Courier had begun. When I lifted up my jacket, a Japanese Hundred Yen coin was mostly obscured by my wallet on the tray. I palmed the coin as second nature and slipped it into my pocket along with my wallet. Tossing the sandals on the ground, I slipped into them and my jacket as I gathered my stuff and joined Pollyanna and Rose, who had gone before me. I watched as the rest of our party passed through security, using that opportunity to observe the TSA agent who had slipped me the package. I was fairly certain that she was not an instructor from the CYA so she was either a Neighbor (an agent from another branch of the intelligence service) or a Stringer (a freelance agent). Since a Stringer was almost always motivated by money, they were the least reliable, so I highly doubted one would have been entrusted to hand off the package to an apparent minor. It would have led to too many questions that the CYA would not want to answer, so she was either FBI or CIA. The international aspect of the mission would have led me to believe that she was CIA, but since we were still on domestic soil, FBI made the most sense. The fact that she refused to make eye contact with me or even acknowledge my existence reinforced the idea that she was a field agent. It was doubtful that she was a sleeper agent, and she was most likely brought in a few weeks prior so as not to raise too much suspicion. She would most likely continue this role for another few weeks before transferring out. The excitement exhibited by my travel companions was not contagious, but I pretended to be enthused. As we waited to board the plan, Traci talked nonstop, and I apparently nodded and smiled at the right places as I continued to work out the significance of the package. The size meant that it contained something minuscule like a microdot or chip, but that method was hardly used to pass information, especially with the ever-increasing levels of encryption. It had been over a month since I had been assigned the courier mission, so it was highly doubtful it was a time-sensitive matter -- unless it was a regularly scheduled drop for either one of our agents or for a representative of Koancho, Japan's Public Security Investigation Agency. An internal wince passed through me when I considered myself as 'our agents'. I was no longer part of the United States espionage apparatus; the only reason why I had undertaken the mission was for the security and wellbeing of my dear friend, Rose. Perhaps the whole thing was a charade to see just how far they could pull me back into my former life. If it was a test, it worked: I was already jumping through the hoops that they had set out. Another possibility was that I could be a decoy; the mission was set up well in advance to 'leak' it and see if they could flush out anyone. While I did not hesitate for a second to think that the CYA would put me in physical danger, the risk of me being captured and interrogated would be too much for them. With the proper type of interrogation, it is not a matter of if, but when. Every few years, the CYA would conduct mock interrogations to evaluate our breaking limits. While the instructors did not make the findings public, through word of mouth, I had learned that I would typically hold out among the top five of the program. Unique as I had been in regards to being devoid of emotions, the usual tricks of the trade were ineffective on me. When they started to destroy some of my anime collectibles, I just made a mental note not to waste my money on acquiring some of the rarer items. Even witnessing the infliction of pain upon my peers for me withholding the 'classified' information did not phase me too much, though, they did finally find a weakness when they started to use the younger ones -- especially the ones under nine who had yet to go through the interrogation exercise. The drawback to the mock interrogations was that, as real as they tried to make it, it was not. Both physical torture and truth drugs (Scopolamine, Sodium Thiopental, Amobarbital, etc) could not be used fully without causing permanent damage. There was also the aspect that the information that they were trying to retrieve was not 'real', so it made it easier to give it up. I wondered how long I could truly last with the gloves removed and my newfound emotions. I figured that I would fold like a cheap lawn chair if the interrogation involved the suffering of the ones that I loved and cared about. It was not until we were more than halfway to Los Angeles that I was able to come to terms with the assignment. I had decided that the most likely circumstance was that it was indeed a test, and that I should suppress the wild tangents my brain was taking. It was at that point that I actually began to listen to what Traci was saying. A cold panic passed through me when I realized I did not have a clue to what Traci had said for the past hour -- ever since I had received the hundred yen coin. For all I knew, I could have agreed to quit smoking forever! When we landed at LAX, the American Eagle plane taxied to their satellite terminal. We had to take a bus to Terminal Four, the one that American Airlines operated out of. Fortunately, we stayed within the 'secure zone' and did not have to resubmit ourselves to additional security screening. When we reached the gate that we were flying out of, most of the seats were already taken. We did find four empty ones that were together in the corner of the room. Rose, Pollyanna, Michelle, and Lori sat in them, while Jean and Marge remained standing. I opted to take a seat on the ground with my back against the wall, and before I knew it, Traci was in my lap. "I think I'll step outside for some fresh air," announced Jean. "I'll keep you company," replied Marge. They left their carry-on luggage with us and started to turn to leave when Marge suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked down at me. "One and one?" she asked, wriggling her finger at herself and Jean. It took me a second to realize what she was talking about. Shaking my head, I replied, "Two and two." She nodded and the two of them left. When Marge and Jean got out of earshot, Traci muttered, "Who does she think she's fooling?" "What?" asked Lori. "Mom," Traci answered with a hint of disgust. "She started smoking again." Lori shrugged and added, "Dad used to tease her about it." "Yeah, but it wasn't until I was older did I get the whole 'sucking on his cigar instead'." As Lori began to chuckle, Traci reached down and pinched my thigh. "Don't think I didn't figure out what you and Mom were talking about. I read the guidebook about duty-free allowances. She was checking with you how many cartons she should buy." My arms had naturally wrapped around her petite waist, so she felt the shrug I gave. Pollyanna perked up at the mention of "duty-free", turned to Rose, and asked her, "You want to go and check it out?" Rose shook her head and said, "Nah, that's okay. It's usually just a bunch of booze, cigarettes, and perfume. I'll stay here and watch the bags." "I'll join you," Lori told Pollyanna, and after Rose and Pollyanna exchanged a quick kiss, the two of them made their leave. There was a moment's silence before Traci suddenly said, "Would you please stop flashing my boyfriend?" "Who said I was flashing Chad?" Rose replied, a wicked grin on her face. Since there was nobody behind us, it was rather simple to figure out whom Rose was referring to. I had ignored Rose's 'panty shot' since I had figured it was unintentional; she had only been wearing skirts for half a year. A woman that appeared in her mid-fifties, who sat on the other side of Rose, glanced at us before resuming her conversation with her companion. While it had been brief, I thought I saw a look of disapproval on her face. Traci either did not see the look, or chose to ignore it, as she replied, "What will your girlfriend say when she hears that you were hitting on me?" "Oh, she won't mind," Rose replied nonchalantly. "But I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't stick around if we got it on. After all, she isn't a sick freak who gets off watching others having sex." I watched as my girlfriend's neck and ears began to turn red; the revelation of her voyeuristic nature seemingly embarrassing her. When Michelle began to chuckle, Traci's head swiveled towards her, and I was able to see the redness in her cheek. The glare that Traci gave Michelle must have been harsh, because Michelle muttered, "Sorry," before turning her head away and trying to stifle her laughter. Again, the woman turned to look at us, and I was able to clearly see the look of condemnation. Rose seemed to notice it as well, and it appeared that she was going to say something to her. As curious as I was to hear how Rose would handle the scrutiny we were receiving, I did not think that making a scene was the wisest choice before embarking on a long plane trip. I choose that moment to make a brief exit. "You need to move your sexy little ass," I told Traci as I unwrapped my arms from around her waist and patted her right knee, shifting my body slightly to signal her that I needed to get up. When Traci got to her feet, she asked me, "Where are you going?" I detected the suspicion in her voice, most likely thinking that I was going to join Marge and Jean for some 'fresh air'. "To drain the lizard," I reassured her. Rose snorted and commented, "More like a python." Traci glanced at Rose, but Michelle's comment interrupted anything that Traci might have said. "He's probably sneaking off to beat the one-eyed snake because of looking at Rose's panties." Michelle was the shy, quiet type who usually chose to remain quiet and just observe. Perhaps because of that, when she did speak, her words seemed to have more weight behind them. As Rose began to giggle, Traci looked at me and arched her eyebrow. "Love, I assure you that I did not see that Rose was wearing powder-blue panties with a white lace trace." Each girl reacted differently: Rose blushed, finally bringing her knees together; Michelle laughed; Traci hit me on the arm. It had been a while since Traci had resorted to physical force to express her feelings, but I noticed that she had held back and it was more of a tap. I gave her a quick kiss on the lips before leaving. It did not take any special training to feel Traci's eyes watching me as I left the gate area. I made sure to turn right and head deeper into the concourse instead of left, which was towards the security checkpoint. I passed up the first restroom, opting for another further along. When I entered it, I found an unoccupied stall and claimed it. Once the door was latched, I found myself automatically scanning around to make sure I was unobserved. After I was relatively satisfied, I dug out my wallet and the hundred yen coin. Examining it more closely, it had a slight grove just over the '100' -- only noticeable if one was looking for it. I emptied my wallet's coin purse into my palm and transferred the hundred yen coin into it. I shoved the coins into my left front pants pocket, save one quarter, which I held onto. After I put my wallet in my inner jacket pocket, I went out and washed my hands, careful to keep the quarter out of sight. I ended up taking more time drying my hands than washing them, as I observed potential targets beyond the restroom entrance. Not wanting to arouse any more suspicion, I finally settled upon a businessman in his early thirties; his attention seemed to be focused upon his boarding pass. I was only a few steps from making contact with the businessman when a better target of opportunity arose. Changing my direction slightly, I continued my brisk walk and did not bump into the man that I had originally chosen. Instead, a young mother, who was a half-dozen steps beyond the businessman, was pushing a baby carriage; her purse was slung over her shoulder and the top was open, inviting the world of pickpockets. Unlike those brethren, I ended up putting something additional in her purse; the woman became twenty-five cents richer as I passed by. Unlike what I would have had to do to the businessman, I did not need to make physical contact for the transfer to occur. It was doubtful that anybody noticed my slight-of-hand unless they were specifically looking for it. Even if the mission turned out to be a sham, I still needed to treat it as if it was legit. That included making 'false passes' so that, if I was indeed being shadowed, my tail would be unsure if the quarter that I had transferred to the woman was actually the hundred yen coin being handed off to another courier or not, since the two coins were similar in appearance. On my journey to the restroom, I had noticed a collection box that was set up for the disaster that had occurred back in December. I paused there to deposit the coins from my left pocket into it. Besides contributing to charity, I wanted to make sure any watching eyes might think that I was actually performing the drop. Like a magician, it was all about misdirection, though it had to be done low-key. The only coin that I had remaining was the one that I needed to deliver. When I returned to the gate, my qualms about the courier mission were pushed aside when Traci spotted me and gave me an approving smile; her worries of me sneaking off and getting into trouble over smoking a cigarette were in vain. I felt myself relaxing and I began to look forward to our trip again. ------- Chapter 44 Promises that you make to yourself are often like the Japanese plum tree - they bear no fruit. - F. Marion The flight to Japan was eleven and a half hours, so I ended up taking a few naps during the plane ride. American Airline's 777 had monitors in the back of the seats which preoccupied Traci. However, she would nudge me awake when the meals arrived. It was after we had been served dinner that she told me that Rose wanted to borrow my laptop. After I finished eating, I handed my tray to Traci so I could retrieve my laptop case out from under Pollyanna's seat. Fortunately, when I had initially come up with the plan for the trip, I had talked to Michelle's and Pollyanna's parents' about it. With the knowledge that Jean was going to be with us, I had booked the tickets so that we were all together: Jean, Michelle, Rose and Pollyanna in one row, then Marge, Lori, Traci & me in the one right behind them. Jean and Marge were on the other side of the aisle from us, but that did not dampen our ability to communicate with one another. "Rose?" I softly asked. Fully reclining her seat, Rose turned her head so I could see her right green eye. "Yes?" "Do you need the power cord and power adapter?" I asked as I held up the laptop. "No, thanks. There's a movie on in a couple of hours that I want to watch. I simply figured I could watch some anime in the meantime. Is the wireless disabled?" I nodded and slid the laptop to her. I had loaded the notebook with episodes that I had not had a chance to watch yet, as well as some titles that Rose expressed interest in. One of the additional nice things about American was that they also had power outlets in coach, though an adapter was necessary. Placing the pillow behind my head, I was about to don my noise-cancellation headphones when Traci stopped me. "Are you going back to sleep?" "I was planning to," I told her, "but I could stay awake if you want." Nervously, Traci said in a low voice, "I was just thinking that we could maybe... you know... we could try and join the 'mile-high club'." I tried to stifle my laughter, but I was unsuccessful. Traci looked a tad hurt at my reaction, so I quickly gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry, Love. I just think that the whole idea of having sex in an airplane is overrated. Even if the flight attendants turned a blind eye to couples slipping into the lavatory, I think that they would stop us since we're minors. Besides, you're wearing pants, and that would make it even more difficult. Now, Rose on the other hand--" The pinch that I received on my arm was very light; the observation that Traci had received about beating me up seemingly altering the extent that she showed her displeasure physically. Traci had a mischievous look in her eyes when she suggested, "I could do to you what I did after the election." I found myself smiling at the memory of what Traci was referring to. The blowjob that Traci had given me in the girls' restroom had cured me of the funk that I had been in. "Whatever happened to that shy and timid girl that I met six months ago?" I asked her. Grinning, she replied, "A scoundrel moved in next door and corrupted her." Again, I gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Tell you what, why don't you get some sleep as well, and we'll see about doing some more corrupting once we get to our hotel room." "I don't know. I'm pretty well corrupted. I doubt there's much that you can do to me that the scoundrel hasn't." "Trust me, there is. Why do you think I asked your mom to bring the tube of Anal-Eze?" Traci's eyes grew wide, and I turned my head away to hide my smile. I had no idea if Marge had packed the lubricant, but Traci's expression had been priceless. Slipping on my headphones, I started up my MP3 player and shortly fell asleep listening to Rachel Maddow reporting on how, once again, the politicians were screwing over the country. ------- The landing at Narita International Airport was a tad bumpy. Traci, whom had never flown internationally before, seemed to think that something was wrong and took ahold of my hand rather tightly. I gave her my best reassuring smile, though it was not until we finally rolled to a stop that she began to relax. It was a fairly long walk from the arrival gate to Immigration Control, but it felt good to stretch the legs after such a long flight. Despite being towards the front of coach and getting off before most of the other passengers, we ran into a large line at Immigration, passengers from other airlines having arrived before us. We had been standing in line for just over ten minutes when Pollyanna asked Rose, "What's wrong?" "Oh, it's nothing," Rose replied, looking up from her passport, which she had been studying. "It's just kinda strange not having the stamps from my trips to South America. Oh well, I guess it's like a clean slate. New passport, new family, better mom." Rose did not appear to hear Marge's sharp intake of breath, but I did. Marge noticed me turning to look at her, and she gave me a weak smile, blinking back any tears. Rose still tended to refer to Marge as 'Mrs. Caspar', but occasionally she would work up the courage to call her 'Marge'. I think the turning point had occurred after Rose's escapade to see her father; Marge had waited until the two of them were alone to express the panic and worry that she had gone through. It was a fine line that Marge was walking, trying to be a mother figure without seeming to replace Rose's actual mother. While Rose might have been disappointed over the loss of her stamps, I was concerned about the authenticity of mine. The CYA had provided me a passport with the three countries that I had visited during my training missions: Russia, England, and Australia. I had used 'disposable shoes' during those missions; each one had been with a different identity. The dates that I had been in those countries were altered, of course, though I was not worried about being linked to the assassinations that I had performed. In Russia, I had been backup, and in the other two, I had left no evidence. The death of the Minister of Parliament that I had killed in Brisbane had been ruled natural causes -- the fact that five of the top ten deadliest snakes were native to Australia was used to my advantage. If I had messed up, the Australian Security and Intelligence Organization would have covered my tracks. After all, they were the ones that farmed out the job to us -- political assassinations done by one's own agency was avoided at all costs. My first (and only) domestic assassination had taken place in Pennsylvania and, while I had operated on the least amount of intelligence about my target, I was quite sure that target had not been a politician. It turned out anxiety over my passport was for naught as I breezed through Immigration. The CIA was the agency that would have been responsible for creating the passport, and they had had plenty of experience in doing so. Pollyanna seemed to receive a smidgen more scrutiny, but that was most likely due to the fact that she did not have a parent or guardian accompanying her. Recently, Human Rights Watch had raised concerns about the trafficking of women into Japan's sex industry, but since it mostly concerned women from Thailand, the Immigration officer must have decided that Pollyanna had indeed come to Japan for holiday. After we had all passed through passport control, it was a short walk to the baggage claim area. Lori and I found a couple of carts, and we brought them over to the carrousel where the rest of the ladies had gathered. It was only a short wait until our bags showed up on the carrousel, and after we gathered them, we proceeded towards Customs. "Do we have anything to declare?" Marge asked. "No. Anal-Eze is perfectly legal in Japan," I replied. Traci had taken control of one of the baggage carts and I was a step behind her, so she did not see the wink and the nod of my head towards her that I directed to her mom. Marge quickly understood my silent gesture and replied nonchalantly, "Oh, good. I know how much you are looking forward to breaking in Traci." Traci came to a sudden halt and stared at her mother for a few seconds. Unfortunately, Marge's poker face had not improved, so Traci quickly realized what was up. Whirling towards me, she raised her fist and I braced myself for a blow that never came. It seemed that, at the last second, she realized what she was about to do, and instead of physically expressing herself, she extended her index finger and waved it at me. "Not funny." It was difficult to keep my expression neutral, especially since everyone else had begun to laugh. "I'm sorry, Buttercup. I promise I won't tease you for the rest of the trip," I assured her. She nodded, but as she started to turn back to the cart, I added, "To the hotel." My additional remark caused a few more chuckles, but Traci just rolled her eyes and replied, "It's better than nothing." I did not find out if Marge had indeed brought the Anal-Eze at the Customs checkpoint because the officer only checked Pollyanna's carryon bag and Jean's suitcase -- neither of them had any anal lubricant. All eyes turned upon me after we had cleared Customs. "What's the plan?" Jean asked. Since the trip had been my idea, it fell upon me to take care of all of the arrangements. "The hotel is in Ikebukuro, so we could either take an airport limousine bus or go by train." Marge asked, "What about taxi?" Nodding, I replied, "Yes, that is an option as well, but that costs about two hundred per taxi." Surprised, Jean asked, "Yen?" "Dollars," I clarified. It was clear that we would not be traveling by taxi, as Marge and Jean both winced. "The cheapest way would be to use the Keisei Limited Express, but that would require a transfer at Nippori Station. It would be about eleven dollars per person, and those would be unreserved seats. For just under ten more dollars, we could get reserved seats, but it would still be a hassle to lug our bags around. Now, Japan Railways does have a direct connection from here to Ikebukuro, but that's about thirty dollars. Ikebukuro station is approximately a hundred meters from the Crowne Plaza Metropolitan, so it shouldn't be too bad to navigate there with our bags. There is also a baggage delivery service that costs twenty dollars per bag, but you won't get the bags until the next day." "Is that why you didn't bring any suitcases?" Traci asked me. Shrugging, I answered, "I like to travel light. Between my backpack and laptop case, I was able to cram in all my clothes and figured that I would pick up any toiletries at a convenience store." "What about shoes? I had to bring a second suitcase just to hold all the shoes I'll need." I literally bit my tongue when I held back my reply. I knew that Traci was baiting me, since I had witnessed her packing and had talked her out of bringing a different pair of shoes for every outfit. When she had thought that I had not been looking, she had snuck in a few additional pairs, but I was fairly certain she had kept the number just under the number of days we were to be in Japan. Keeping to my promise not to tease her until after we had arrived at the hotel, I chose to ignore her comment and continue on. "The limousine bus costs about the same as the JR, but will take us directly to the hotel. All of these options take about ninety minutes, but since it is just after five, we're on the cusp of rush-hour, so we'll have to deal with crowded trains if we go non-reserved, crowded stations even if we do go with reserved, or traffic if we go by limo. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We could always activate the rail passes today, but that means that the last day we could use them would be Friday." "What passes?" Jean asked me, suspiciously. "Didn't I mention that I got us seven-day Japan Rail passes?" "No, you did not, and I am guessing that you will refuse reimbursement for them," Jean replied, giving me a slight glare. "Knowing Chad, I have to agree with you," Marge added. "Hey, in my defense, they cost roughly the same as a round trip ticket to Osaka, and we'll be going there to watch sumo." "That's not the point, Chad. You're already paying for the hotel, and now you spring this on us. I really wish you would let me pay for our share," Jean admonished me. Marge and Rose began to nod in agreement. "You know, for somebody who is turning thirty-four tomorrow, you're awfully stubborn," I replied. A good tactic to use when faced with overwhelming odds was to put up a distraction. I had used the technique before to divert attention from me, and I was pleased to see that it still worked. Jean was slightly taken aback before turning to her daughter. "Hey," Michelle protested, raising her palms up as if to protect herself from her mom's accusing stare, "I swear I did not tell him your birthday. Cross my heart." When Jean shifted her gaze towards Marge, the other woman told her, "Don't you look at me. I didn't tell him. Besides, you've never told me just exactly how old you were. Hell, here I was thinking that you were older than me all this time. I mean, you do look well over forty." I was not sure if Marge was trying to help me or just have some fun teasing her friend, but I welcomed it. While Marge did appear much younger than her actual age, Jean looked to be an attractive woman in her early thirties. Still, Jean retorted, "I'm not the one with crow's feet." Placing her left hand on her hip, Marge raised her right hand with her index finger extended. "Oh, no you didn't," Marge replied, her head and finger wagging back and forth in cadence to one another. By now, the rest of us had begun to laugh at their antics. Jean was about to say something when Lori cleared her throat. When everyone turned to her, she suggested, "I think we should go ahead and take the bus. Even if we get stuck in traffic, it would still be cool to see the scenery." "Okay, 'Mom'," Marge said with a grin to her oldest daughter. "Do they accept credit cards?" Jean asked me. "I'm not sure, but we might as well get some cash now. I think there might be an automatic teller machine down that way," I replied with a slight nod of my head. Everyone seemed to be in agreement, so we began making our way to the ATM. When we spotted a tourist information counter, Lori suggested that she could pick up some pamphlets and whatnot and would meet us at the limousine bus counter, since it was only a few more down. It sounded like a good idea, so she left us to do that. We were about thirty meters from the ATM when Traci came to a sudden halt in front of a different counter. It was quite noticeable, since she was pushing one of the luggage carts, so we all stopped as well. Traci stared at the counter for a few seconds before turning to her mom. "No," Marge told Traci firmly, before she even had the chance to speak. "But Mom, it would be totally useful--" "No," Marge said, cutting off her youngest. "I swear, I would only--" "Traci Lovett Caspar! Do you really want me to tell you a third time? It would be a shame for you to start our vacation grounded." The tone in Marge's voice spoke more than her actual words. The rest of us had all of a sudden found other things of interest as we tried to shift our attention from their argument. Traci took a deep breath and let out a loud sigh before taking ahold of the baggage cart and quickly storming off. As we fell in step behind her, I heard Marge tell Jean, "I swear, that girl can be so mature at times and such a brat at others." "Sounds like she takes after her boyfriend," Jean replied. While Traci was out of earshot, I was not, and I was fairly certain that her comment was for me. I turned back, took a deep breath, sighed loudly, and stormed away from the giggles that I received. I figured it was not teasing Traci if I mimicked her reaction and she was none the wiser. By the time we had all gathered at the ATM machine, Traci's attitude towards her mother had done a one-eighty and she even apologized for her earlier behavior. I think the fact that Marge was going to be doling out money to her daughters was not lost on anyone, but Marge smiled and accepted the apology. Again, it seemed that everyone deferred to my opinion on how much money should be withdrawn. "Japan is primarily a cash society, though credit cards are becoming more accepted at places. Still, you could slap down a ten-thousand-yen note at a convenience store and the clerk probably wouldn't even bat an eyelid," I explained. But after a moments pause, I corrected myself. "Actually, strike that last part. There was a rash of counterfeit ten-thousand-yen notes used at shrines during this last New Year's celebrations so the clerk might give it a tad more scrutiny, but still it wouldn't be a big deal to use one." "How much are you going to get?" Rose asked me. Shrugging, I answered, "I figured I would withdraw 39,000 yen. That way, I can have smaller notes, just in case. It shouldn't be too difficult to find ATMs if I need more." Marge, Jean, Pollyanna, Rose, and I took turns at the ATM, and I could not help but notice that Rose withdrew exactly how much I had said I was going to withdraw. Marge hesitated for a second before she handed a ten-thousand-yen note to a smiling Traci. Rose, however, was not smiling when Marge tried to hand her one, as well. "I have my own money," Rose protested. "Listen. All of my daughters are going to receive the same amount, comprende?" "Wakarimasu," Rose corrected Marge, using the Japanese word for 'understand'. She then begrudgingly took the offered bill, but a small smile seemed to peek out from underneath Rose's look of defeat. While Rose was not Marge's biological offspring, she always made the effort to treat Rose as if she was. Lori was waiting for us at the limousine bus counter like she had said she would and smiled when she spotted us. She was not the only one to notice us, as a few of the young women who were behind the counter seemed to stare at me for a few seconds before grinning and chuckling. I had a good idea to what was behind their amusement, and it was confirmed when we arrived there. "Do you know what that means?" one of the ladies asked me, indicating the tee shirt that I had on. The woman's English was quite good, though I did answer her in Japanese. "Hai. Nihonjin kanojo boshu-chu." I also added a small wink, which provoked more giggling -- one of them even lifted her hand to hide her smile. "What does that mean?" Traci asked. I hesitated for a few seconds because of my promise of not teasing her; as I was debating whether I should just lie my ass off or tell her the truth delicately, Rose chimed in. "It says, 'Now accepting applications for a Japanese girlfriend.'" It was not so much that Rose actually understood what I had said, but more that she had been the one to stumble across J-List, the website that sold the tee-shirt I was wearing. I gave Traci an apologetic smile, but she just rolled her eyes and said, "I should have guessed." It turned out that they did indeed accept credit cards, and before we knew what was happening, Jean handed them a credit card. It seemed that she had taken it out when she had retrieved her bank card for the ATM. "I got this," she proclaimed, her tone making it quite clear that it was not subject to debate. We had about twenty minutes until the next bus was scheduled to depart, so after we stepped away from the counter, Jean said, "Marge and I are going to step outside for a bit. Why don't we meet back here in, say, fifteen minutes?" After everybody had nodded in agreement, Marge handed Lori a ten-thousand-yen note, saying, "Keep an eye on your sister and make sure that she doesn't rent a cell phone." Traci looked crestfallen when she heard her mother say that. With the plan to return to the counter that had almost caused her to get grounded nixed, she suddenly had a sly grin on her face. "That's okay," she told her mom, "I was actually going to join you and Mrs. Weller outside." Marge gave a nervous glance to Jean (who found the situation most amusing) before nodding and saying, "Okay." "I'm just fooling. Go and enjoy the 'fresh air'," Traci told her, even going so far as making air quotes. Marge blushed slightly in embarrassment at being caught, but she still left with Jean after being dismissed by her youngest daughter. I guess the look of longing was etched upon my face as I watched their departure, because Traci asked, "What are you waiting for? You go, too." Instead of leaving immediately, I drew close to Traci and placed my hands on her hips. Looking into her eyes, I told her, "Remind me why I deserve such a wonderful girlfriend?" Smiling, she let out a small snort and replied, "You don't. Now, go before I change my mind. And while you're out there, try telling Mom why it would be a good idea for me to have a cell phone." I told her that I loved her, and we exchanged a quick kiss. As I walked away, I was already devising the arguments I could use to convince Marge to let Traci have a cell phone, despite my feelings to the contrary. When I stepped past the sliding glass doors of the terminal, I was hit by a small gust of cold air. The difference in weather between Japan and Central City was notable in regards that a jacket was needed when it rained and shortly afterwards. Closing my jacket and zippering it up, I also removed my hair tie and let my hair down. Since the smoking age in Japan was twenty, I needed to appear four years older, and changing my hairstyle was a rather rudimentary trick. Also, I changed my posture so that I held myself higher, though, if I was actually confronted, I could always claim ignorance. There were two smoking areas outside of the terminal, so I headed to the nearest one. Spotting a few vending machines, I stopped at one of them and examined the selections. While it contained quite a few cold drinks, it did have some warm ones (the price labels were red instead of blue) and I used a thousand-yen note to buy two coffees and a milk tea. Retrieving my change, I made sure to put it in one of my jacket pockets instead of my wallet's coin pouch. Marge and Jean smiled at me when they noticed my approach. In addition to them, there were close to a score of people in the smoking area. Marge had two cigarettes, one in each hand, and I swapped one of them with her for a coffee. Jean also preferred coffee, so I ended up with the milk tea. After taking a heavenly drag off the cancer stick, I popped open the can and took a swig of the sweet drink. "I thought you'd be out here much sooner," Marge told me apologetically; the Camel Wide that she handed me was about halfway through. I smiled and shrugged, saying, "I needed to tell Traci how much I loved her. Also, I thought we could use something warm to drink." After Marge nodded, I turned to Jean and told her, "I'm sorry that I did not tell you about the train passes beforehand. I took a page out of the government's playbook and figured it was easier to do it and apologize later, instead of seeking permission first." Letting out a small snort, Jean said, "Because you knew that I wouldn't let you get away with it. Honestly, it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable for Michelle and me to be mooching off of you." "Really, you're not," I protested. "My mom made a killing during the dot-com bubble, to the point that the Feds were convinced that she must've had insider information. My parents figured that I was mature enough to spend my inheritance now instead of shoving it in some silly trust fund, so that's what I'm doing. If I can't use my money for my friends, what's the point of having it?" "For one thing, it makes it feel like you're trying to buy our friendship," Jean pointed out. I tried to sound slightly wounded when I replied, "I would hope that you'd consider me your friend even if I was dirt poor." "Well, yes, of course. It's just..." Jean replied, looking at Marge for assistance. "Hey, I have given up trying to talk logic into him when it comes to his finances. You'll have better luck talking Rose into buying Coke when it's not on sale than convincing Chad to change his ways," Marge told her with a grin. "Tell you what, pay for my dinners and we'll call it even, okay?" Frowning, Jean said, "I somehow doubt that the cost of you eating and the train passes would be equivalent." "I do plan on eating fugu," I replied with a smile. "We cool?" "I guess," Jean said, sounding slightly defeated. We did exchange a brief hug to show no ill will towards one another. My cigarette was practically down to the filter, so Marge handed me back the cigarette case that she had been carrying for me. She started to hand me a book of matches too, but I waved her off. Using the old cigarette to light a new one, I took a few steps over to the cigarette receptacle tray and dropped the spent soldier through the grill. The butt quickly extinguished in the water inside, and it floated among its fallen comrades. "Shit! Why didn't I think of that? It was a pain in the ass to light up, so I figured I might as well light up yours, as well," Marge told me. "You're not a chain smoker," I replied. Almost as if proving my observation, Jean started up a second cigarette while Marge chose not to. I took a rather long drag on my cigarette and steadied myself for what I was going to say. While it had been easy to tell Jean lies about my fictitious parents, I needed to convince myself what I was about to say was true to sound believable. "So, I was thinking that it might be a good idea for Traci to have a cell phone because--" "Oh. My. God!" Marge exclaimed. "I can't believe her. She's actually having you fight her battle for her." Marge was not fooled by the look of innocence I gave her. "She didn't", I replied, "It's just--" "Don't give me that crap," Marge said, again cutting me off. Turning to Jean, she explained, "Traci used to pull this shit all the time with John and me. One of us would tell her no, and she would go to the other one and ask. Even when we both put up a united front, Traci was always able to get John to collapse. 'Daddy's little angel.'" I was on thin ice, but I owed Traci one more shot. "I think she's responsible enough--" "You know, I can ground you too," Marge warned me. When I arched an eyebrow, she explained, "I'll cut you off." Jean began to laugh and told Marge, "I think you'd be doing Chad a favor. He wouldn't have to service an old bag like you. Anyway, I can always fill your shoes if he needs to earn some cigarettes." Jean gave me a small wink at that last part, and while I was slightly nervous about how much truth were in her words, it was good to see that she was teasing me. Giving Jean a smile, I told her, "While I'm in Japan, I can't 'earn' any smokes." "Don't let that stop you," she replied, the overblown seductive tone comical. Among the numerous renegotiations that Traci and I had had, I had stood firm on the condition that cigarettes overseas would not be counted. Traci did add the stipulation that if cigarettes were not counted, then neither would orgasms. An evil grin spread across Marge's face as she told me, "If you're so sure about Traci having a cell phone, then you rent one for her. I'll let you take responsibility for it. The ball's in your court." The horror of Marge's words was apparently on my face as the two women began to laugh at me. While I had just finished arguing the point of spending money on my friends, could I truly afford the bill that the love of my life could potentially run up? Did the benefits of making Traci happy outweigh the financial impact? ------- We did end up getting caught up in rush hour traffic on the way to the hotel. It began to appear that it was going to take nearly twice as long as it typically did, though the bus was able to get off the snail-paced expressway and begin to navigate on the regular streets. "What time is it back home?" Traci asked. "Two AM," I told her. "Add seven hours, then subtract a day." Nodding, Traci opened her newest possession and began to dial. "Who are you calling?" Marge inquired. Marge and Lori were in the seats across the aisle from Traci and me. Traci glanced at her and explained, "Beth. The squad's spending the night at her house and they should still be up." "What about her parents? I don't think they'll too happy having their phone ringing so late." "Her parents love her enough to give her her own line," Traci replied. As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized what she had said, stopped what she had been doing, and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really, really sorry!" Marge was able to tell that Traci was being sincere and accepted the apology. She gave me a bemused smile before returning to her conversation with Lori. As Traci began to renew her dialing, I reached out and gently took hold of her hand. When she gave me a confused look, I reminded her, "You remember the announcement that we'd heard after the bus got underway?" "About refraining from talking on the phone? Yeah, but I've refrained as long as I could. I told the squad that I would call them once I got to Japan," Traci replied. "Why don't you send an e-mail instead," I suggested. A frown began to creep onto her face, but suddenly her eyes lit up. Before I knew it, she was leaning sideways into me and took a picture of the two of us with the cell phone. She giggled when she reviewed the picture; her smile contrasting my look of surprise. She did have to take out her address book to look up her squad mate's cell phone number. As I watched Traci navigate through the menus on the phone, I reviewed how I had gotten into this predicament. When I had reentered the terminal, I had tried to make my way to the cell phone rental counter unobserved, but Traci had excitedly appeared at my side in less than a minute. I suspected Marge or Jean might have had something to do with that; they both had grins on their faces when we had returned to them. My hope that the cell phone rental company would not be willing to rent to a minor was dashed when all they had needed was a valid passport. My fallback position of getting a Japanese-language-only cell phone was also destroyed by the presence of my love; she had noticed that they had had phones with English-language interfaces and had made sure that the cell phone I rented had been one of them. I did stop Traci from e-mailing the picture she had just taken to everyone on the squad, since she had just finished saying that they were all together. "What about my friends who aren't on the squad?" she asked. "Friends? Sure. The entire freshman class... ?" I left the rest unsaid and watched as Traci narrowed her friends down to a mere dozen names. Edana Bowen was not among them, but Fran was. After she finished e-mailing, she turned to me and began to apologize, but I quickly stopped her. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. When I gave you the phone, I did tell you that you were free to use it however you wished and that there were no conditions attached. Next thing you know, I'm telling you whom you could and could not e-mail. I'll try to leave you alone in the future." "Do you think I'm on the phone too much?" There was not a pole long enough in existence for me to touch that question with, so I told her, "I think everything you do is adorable. I thought it was cute the time you called your mom about our varsity letters when she was less than twenty meters away." Traci beamed me a smile, but over her shoulder, Marge appeared to have heard the question and reply. Even without my knowledge of reading lips, her mouthing, 'Pussy' was clear. I did my best to ignore her and gave Traci a gentle kiss on the lips. While Traci did not send any additional e-mails while we were on the bus, she did continue to take pictures with the cell phone. I swapped places with her so that she could have the window seat and take pictures more easily through the bus's window. Whilst Traci was preoccupied doing that, I reached across the aisle and gave Marge's leg a playful pinch. When she looked at me, I mouthed back the same word she had used, arching my eyebrow inquisitively. Grinning, Marge nodded her head to which I replied by rolling my eyes. The Crowne Plaza Metropolitan was the last stop for the limousine bus; only eight other passengers remained by then. A couple of bellhops joined the driver in unloading the bags from underneath the bus. After we got off the bus, we each handed them the stubs that matched the tags that were on our luggage -- the tags being attached to our luggage before we had boarded the bus. Instead of just handing us the bags, they loaded them on baggage carts; though, it did take them a few moments to realize that our motley crew was all together and group our bags separately from those of the other passengers. When I had arranged the reservations, Marge's name was the one that I had used, since there might be a problem with a sixteen-year-old renting four rooms. So, as we walked into the lobby and approached the front desk, we took our passports and handed them over to Marge. An attractive bellhop stood at the head of the arrival queue, and she guided us to a desk clerk when he was available. "Good evening. Welcome to the Metropolitan," he greeted us, bowing slightly. Marge let out a great sigh of relief when the desk clerk used English to address us. Marge had kept me close, just in case the desk clerk did not understand English. She had even gone as far as taking ahold of my jacket sleeve when I had attempted to drift away from her. I do not know if it was conscious or not, but Marge copied the bow when she told him, "Marge Caspar checking in." It took him a few seconds to bring up the reservations. When he did, he retrieved four registration cards and handed them to Marge, telling her, "Ah, yes. It appears that we were able to fulfill your requests, but to do so, you will be on the twenty-fourth floor. The sky lounge is on the floor above and sometimes has music playing until midnight. Will this be alright?" Marge and I had discussed the arrangements that I had made, so she told him, "That will be fine. If it is too noisy, we could always move, desu ka?" "Hai," the clerk replied, smiling at Marge's use of 'desu ka' to signify a question. "You might not be all together, but we should be able to keep your party all on the same floor." Marge nodded in understanding and began to fill out the registration cards. Since I was standing with her, I retrieved a pen from my laptop case and assisted her with two of the cards. When we finished, the desk clerk collected them and compared the passport numbers that we had written down with our passports. By the time he had finished with them and handed them back to Marge, she had taken out a credit card and told him, "I would like to go ahead and put the rooms on this credit card." Frowning slightly, he reviewed his computer screen for a few seconds and told her, "I am sorry, but it appears that the rooms have already been paid for. However, if there are any additional charges, you may pay for them at checkout." Marge glanced at me, and I innocently batted my eyelashes. I knew I was being an ass, but it had already been agreed upon that I would be paying for the rooms. Figuring that she might try circumventing me, I had gone ahead and prepaid for the rooms. During our little exchange, the desk clerk had signaled a bellhop and when Marge turned her attention back to the clerk, he asked her, "Is there anything else I can help you with?" Marge shook her head, so the desk clerk handed the bellhop four folders containing our keycards. The clerk thanked us for choosing the Metropolitan and instructed us to follow the bellhop. It appeared that the sole duty of the bellhop was to guide us from the desk to two additional bellhops who were with our bags, no more than fifteen meters away. After he handed them the folders, he bowed and returned to his previous position. The bellhops escorted us to a bank of eight elevators -- four on each side -- and pressed the buttons to call them. There was not enough room for all of us and two baggage carts in one elevator car, so I joined the Caspars and one of the bellhops in one and the rest took another. "Is this first time in Japan?" the bellhop asked us. Unlike the desk clerk we had dealt with, her English was slightly broken, and we had to strain our ears to understand her. "Yes," Traci replied, smiling and nodding. The bellhop had an attractive smile on her face ever since we joined her, but it grew larger when she noticed my tee shirt. Traci noticed the bellhop's reaction, reached over and closed my jacket, telling her, "Iie. Baka." Traci signaled exactly whom she was calling stupid by tapping a finger on my chest. A few other passengers joined the bellhop in chuckling at Traci's actions; Marge rolled her eyes, while Lori just smiled at her younger sister. Despite our taking an earlier car, the rest of the ladies were waiting for us when we reached the twenty-fourth floor. Most likely, they had not had as many stops in between as we had had. The bellhops led us down a corridor to the last four rooms on one side. Pollyanna and Rose had the room at the very end of the hallway, with Jean and Michelle in the room next to theirs. Marge and Lori's room was in between the Wellers' and Traci and mine. "How come we're at the very end?" Rose asked. "I wanted a three room buffer between the two of you and other guests; otherwise they might complain and get us kicked out from all moaning and screaming you two make," I answered with a wink. The bellhop that had ridden with us did not seem to understand my comment, but the other one did because she covered her mouth as fought hard not to giggle. She lost the fight when Jean added, "Shoot, I forgot to pack my earplugs!" Rose was crimson, though it was difficult to tell how much was from embarrassment and how much was from anger. The way she turned and strode purposely towards her room made me think that it was more of the later. The bellhop that had ridden up with her had to swap folders with the one we were with, then quickly hurried after her to open the door for her. I knew that amends were in order and vowed to make them at the soonest opportunity. Right then, though, the bellhop opened the door for Traci and me and showed us into the room. She took out a doorstop from one of her pockets and wedged open the door. She then wanted us to indicate which bags were ours on the cart and tried to stop me when I grabbed ahold of Traci's suitcases. She seemed surprised when I rapidly explained to her in Japanese why I should do it. In contrast to her companion, she did not cover her mouth when she began to giggle. "What did you tell her?" Traci asked, frowning. "I told her that I did not want her to hurt herself by trying to lift my girlfriend's bags, since she had packed enough shoes to outfit an army," I replied truthfully. Traci smiled and nodded. While teasing Traci about her footwear would typically earn me a far different reaction, the fact that I referred to her as my girlfriend seemed to have appeased her. After the bellhop had made sure we were settled in, she gave us a bow and quickly departed to assist Marge and Lori. "What?" I asked Traci when I noticed her frowning. "You didn't tip her," she pointed out. "You don't need to tip in Japan," I reminded her. "Oh, yeah," she replied. After glancing around the room, she added, "Kinda small, isn't it? I just smiled and remained silent. The room was actually quite large, by Japanese hotel standards. It seemed that my darling had grown accustomed to the spaciousness of our master bedroom. Traci also seemed to have issue with the room having two single beds, because she started to push one of them towards the other. I stopped her, so she asked, "Why didn't you get a room with a king-sized bed?" "Because two underaged, unrelated children of mixed gender staying in one room with one bed might raise some questions. After we get married, we can rent rooms with a king-sized bed, but until then..." If referring to Traci as my girlfriend appeased her, calling her my fiancée made her giggly. "There's enough room for you and me in one of these beds," she announced as she drew close to me. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. I had kept my lips closed, but when I felt her probing tongue, I opened them to receive her. Traci had a slight frown on her face when we broke our kiss. "I'm sorry," I told her, "I'll go brush my teeth." "No, don't," she quickly replied, her hold on me tightening. "I'm getting accustomed to it. Besides, if I had to wait for you to brush your teeth every time you had a cigarette, I doubt we'll kiss at all in Japan." As if to prove her point, she brought her hand to the back of my head and drew me to her inviting lips. As the kiss grew more heated, the passion for one another seemed to engulf us. We undressed each other the best we could while our lips remained locked; breaking briefly to remove my tee shirt. By the time we made our way to one of the beds, I was completely naked, whereas Traci still had on her socks. She did not pause to take them off; pulling me onto the bed with her instead. My intention was to make love to Traci, but she was having none of that. She wanted us to fuck. While our kissing seemed to have made her wet enough for that, my cock was not yet hard enough for intercourse. Traci helped rectify that by drawing my member into her delightfully warm mouth. Her mouth was not the only one in action, as she straddled my face and I began to feast upon her lower mouth. Since she was adamant about fucking, I skipped my usual teasing and focused primarily upon her clitoris. As I licked and sucked upon the hood, her little nub began to emerge. I was working Traci ever so close to an orgasm, but she dismounted my face once my dick was hard enough for what she wanted. I remained on my back while Traci positioned her pussy over my cock. Her left hand pressed down upon my chest as her right guided me into her entrance. My hips remained motionless as I let her settle herself upon me. Once she was fully seated, she began to rock her hips back and forth, and I soon joined her. My hands reached up and began to play with the nipples that she had pushed my mouth away from earlier. As our gyrations grew more feverish, I began to pinch her harder, her moans of pleasure signaling me how much pressure to use. Traci's climb to her first orgasm of the evening was interrupted by the phone ringing. I was quite frankly amazed that she let it ring four times before answering it. At first, she tried to keep my cock within her, but finally had to pull herself off when she could not reach it. "Hello?" Traci asked breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I'm busy fucking my boyfriend." Instead of returning the handset to its cradle, Traci kept the phone in her left hand and used her right to guide my cock to where it had been. She then began a running commentary of what we were doing. "Oh, yessss," she hissed, "I'm impaling myself upon Chad's long, hard dick. He's reaching up and beginning to play with my nipples again. I'm starting to... to work up to speed again. Listen." Traci lowered the receiver so that whoever was on the other end of the line could clearly hear the sound that our coupling made. Moving my hands down to her ass, I took a firm grip and began to pull her down as I increased my thrusting twofold. The wet smacking sound echoed throughout the room. While Traci was perhaps more of a voyeur, she did find being an exhibitionist exciting. She was quickly reaching the pinnacle of ecstasy and brought the telephone back up to describe it. Her eyes were tightly closed as she concentrated on her other senses. "Oh gods, I'm almost there! Harder... faster... oh... ooooh!" Traci moaned. Traci held her breath as her orgasm racked through her body; the knuckles of the hand that were wrapped around the telephone receiver turned white as her body tensed. After what seemed like an eternity, she let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. When she opened her eyes, she was still slightly breathless, and she gave me a loving smile. "Jesus! That was fucking awesome! Oh, my poor baby didn't come with me, and my pussy's all worn out. I guess I'll have to let him fuck my tight little asshole." I arched an eyebrow, and Traci quickly shook her head. As I began to chuckle, Traci moved her hand from my chest up to my mouth to silence me. It was not there long, because she quickly pulled it away after I gave it a playful nip with my teeth. Traci gave a detailed description as we repositioned ourselves doggie style. When Traci was on all threes (her left hand preoccupied with the phone), I slid my cock easily into her slick pussy. However, Traci described the situation differently. "Oh, Chad, you're not going to use any lube? Oooohh, shiiiiit! Ow, ow, ow. Easy! Fuck! He only has the head of his thick cock past my tight sphincter. Stop, stop, stop, stop," Traci protested. While her lips said one thing, her hips said another, so I continued my slow thrusts into her pussy. I kept my movement subdued lest I betray what Traci was describing to whomever was at the other end of the conversation. It did not take long for the tempo of my thrusting to sync up with Traci's description. "That's it! Faster, now. Harder! Slap my ass! Slap my ass!" Traci had never instructed me to do that to her before, so I was uncertain if it was directed towards me or the telephone. The first few spanks I gave her, despite sounding loud, were light in impact. They grew more forceful until after one particularly hard blow. Turning her head back, she gave me a look that told me that I had gone too far, so I eased off the amount of force I was using. When I was told to pull her hair, I did not want to make the same mistake twice, so I took a firm grip and only pulled lightly. I soon found myself struggling with my hold as Traci pulled her head down. She pulled against my hold for a good ten seconds before suddenly lifting her head back. As my hand pulled back because of the lack of resistance, she started leaning forward again, making me pull even harder. Since Traci's hands were engaged, I used my free hand to help her along towards another orgasm. Using the fingers of my left hand, I reached down and began to apply pressure to just above the hood of her clit. That time, I followed Traci's instructions precisely, and she came shortly after me. After I released my grip on Traci's hair, she slumped forward and I found myself falling with her, my cock unwilling to leave the warm embrace of her succulent pussy. My left arm instinctively moved so that I was able to support a majority of my weight upon my left elbow, lest I crush my small-framed girlfriend. "Two towels and a pillow," Traci muttered into the phone before releasing her grip on it. Curious, I picked up the handset and brought it up to my ear. "Hello?" I thought I heard two sets of heavy breathing before the line quickly went dead. "Who was that?" I asked Traci. "Housekeeping. They wanted to know if we needed anything." ------- Chapter 45 The best mind-altering drug is the truth. - L. Tomlin One of the most anticipated things that I had been looking forward to during our trip to Japan was a chance for a post coitus cigarette without having to leave the room. After Traci and I chuckled over her little joke about housekeeping being on the other end of the line during our fucking, I withdrew my softening cock from her pussy and got out of bed. Retrieving my cigarette case from my jacket, I fumbled a cigarette when I took one out, such was my haste. After popping it into my mouth, I walked over to a small table in the corner of the room where an ashtray and matches waited. As I picked up the matches, Traci said, "Chad, you--" "Look," I interrupted her, "I'm going to open the window, and there is a vent in the ceiling that will suck up the excess smoke." "No, it's--" "Please, just let me have this cigarette," I begged. Traci raised her palms up in surrender, and I quickly lit a match before she could say anything else. I took a deep drag and immediately began coughing as the acidic taste of melted filter filled my lungs. Pulling the cigarette out from my mouth, I stared at the ruined filter for a few seconds before looking at Traci. Bless her heart; she was fighting hard not to laugh outright at me. "Hey, I tried to warn you," she told me. Embarrassed, I replied, "And I was being a jerk and not listening to you." "Strange, as large as this hotel is, we were stuck with a smoking room," Traci said sarcastically. I explained, "The hotel has 815 rooms, and 96 of them are non-smoking, which is about twelve percent. Rose and Pollyanna have a non-smoking room, which means that twenty-five percent of the rooms we have are non-smoking. Therefore, we should consider ourselves lucky, since we're taking up more than twice the amount of non-smoking rooms available." Math was not Traci's strongest subject, but even she knew what I was spouting was 'horseshit' and told me so. She reminded me to open the window before she went into the bathroom and locked the door. I had to struggle with the latch on the window for a few seconds before I was able to open it to its maximum, approximately ten centimeters. Deciding not to waste the spoiled cigarette, I pinched off the ruined butt and was about to light it again when Traci burst back into the room. "Chad, come here!" Traci said excitedly. Setting the matchbook and cigarette in the ashtray, I walked over to the bathroom that Traci had reentered. When I joined her, she pointed at the toilet and said, "Look at that!" "It's a toilet seat," I enlightened her. "Duh! It's like warm, and those buttons on the side shoot water up... well, it cleans you!" Nodding, I said, "The buttons control a retractable wand that acts like a bidet. It most likely has a deodorizing feature, as well." "I was expecting to squat over a hole," Traci said with a frown. "Public restrooms and some older homes do have toilets like that, but Western toilets are becoming the standard, especially with advanced features. Didn't you see that story on the news about some company developing a toilet that could analyze a person's waste and determine how healthy they were?" Shrugging, Traci answered, "If I did, I forgot about it. Okay, you're dismissed." I arched an eyebrow, so she added, "I didn't finish in here yet." "You're the one who invited me in," I pointed out with a grin. Rolling her eyes, she told me, "Go smoke your cigarette." Before I left the bathroom, I snagged a towel from off the rack and took it with me. Since I was naked, I figured it was only proper to lay it out on the chair that I was going to sit on. Before I took my seat, I paused to open up the drapes and was greeted with a spectacular skyline. I lit up the (now) non-filtered cigarette and took in the view. As pretty as it was, I wished that I were on a lower floor when I spotted an office building below. The alternative for the mile-high club that I had came up with on the plane was for Traci and I have to have sex with the lights on and the drapes open so that we would be visible to anyone who would happen to look our way. The next time we came to Japan, I would make sure to get a room on a lower floor. I snuffed out my cigarette when I finished it and debated on lighting a second one when I realized I needed to take a major piss; cursing at the fact that I had not done so when I was at LAX. I found the bathroom door unlocked, but still knocked and waited for Traci's permission. When she granted it, I quickly entered and begun draining my bladder. "Make sure you're only peeing," Traci warned from behind the shower curtain. "I doubt the deodorizer can handle the smells that you make." I was tempted to flush the toilet when I finished urinating, but realized that it would be futile; the shower and toilet were most likely on two different lines. Instead, I joined Traci in the shower and began assisting her. She in turned and helped me, then when we were both clean, we drew a bath. The hotel's bathtub was much smaller than the one in our master bathroom, but it did have considerable depth. Once we had filled it and settled in, a portion sloshed over the edge, which worried Traci until I pointed out a drain that was next to the tub. "You see, the bathroom is set up so that you can wash yourself outside of the tub and just save the tub for soaking," I explained to her. She asked, "That's why the showerhead is on a hose?" "Yup." My arms were wrapped around Traci's waist, and we soaked in silence for a few minutes before she asked, "When do you think we can actually have anal sex?" "Not until you're about the same size as your mom and sister." Nodding, Traci asked, "So you think maybe in three years, two months, and three weeks?" It took me a moment to figure out what she was referring to, but when I did, I could not help but smile. "I don't know," I replied slowly. "What happens if you stop growing?" Traci did not hesitate when she replied, "I'll get Erin to buy me some butt plugs to stretch me out." It seemed that Traci had put a great deal of thought into the matter, so I gave the nape of her neck a kiss and told her, "I guess my cock won't be going up your ass until our wedding night." Traci craned her neck and beamed at me; seemingly happy that I figured out what she had been talking about. "I don't know if that is the sweetest or crudest thing that anybody has ever said to me." After we exchanged a quick kiss on the lips, I said, "Only problem is that it'll take you at least six years to get through high school." Splashing some water at me, she scolded, "Not funny." "Sorry," I apologized. After a few seconds reflection, I asked, "Do I tease you too much?" It was Traci's turn to take some time and weigh my question. Finally, she replied, "No. Teasing is a sign of affection. Dad would always tease Mom and us. We actually used to tease each other all the time until, well, until Dad died. I mean, we kinda kept doing it, but it wasn't quite the same. Now that I think about it, I think that's what drew us to you. The way that you always tease is just like Dad." "It wasn't my charming personality?" I asked in mock-disbelief. She let out a snort. "And your dumb sense of humor. You and Dad would have gotten along great. Well, he might have had a problem with you bopping his wife and two baby girls." I was unsure what to say, but fortunately the doorbell chimed, followed by a soft knock. I had left the bathroom door open and called out, "Chotto matte kudasai." After untangling myself from Traci, I got out of the tub and grabbed a towel. I began drying myself as I made my way to the doorway. A quick glance through the eyehole told me who it was, and after I rapidly dried myself off, I grabbed one of the yukatas from the closet, quickly donned it, and opened the door for Michelle. "Oh, I'm sorry," Michelle apologized. "No, no. Come in, come in," I told her. "Who is it?" Traci called out from the bathtub. "Housekeeping," I replied. From the confused look on Michelle's face, I quickly deduced that she was not on the other end of the line earlier. "Remember, no tipping." The way that she stressed the last word told me that she was not referring to money. "What's up?" I asked as I walked back into the room towards the table. "Nothing, really. I stopped by to see if you two might want to head on out..." Michelle's voice trailed off as she spotted the way Traci's and my clothes were strewn upon the floor. My earlier cigarette did not do much to mask the scent of the rutting that had taken place, either. Blushing, she said, "Oh! You two are busy. I'll go." "It's okay," I assured her, "You're not interrupting anything. Honest." Michelle had started to turn to leave, but stopped and studied me for a few seconds before nodding. I took out a cigarette and looked to her for permission before lighting up. When she smiled and nodded again, I made sure that the proper end was in my mouth and lit up. After I exhaled a pleasant lungful, Michelle continued with what she had been saying. "I was wanting to go on out, but Mom was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as we got into the room. I was going to see if Pollyanna and Rose wanted to join me, but they sounded, umm, busy." Michelle looked slightly embarrassed and I told her, "I'm sorry that you're stuck in the room next to them." "Oh no!" Michelle quickly replied. "They're not that loud. It's just that I'd thought I'd heard something, and when I'd pressed my ear against the wall, it definitely sounded like they were 'busy'." Nodding my understanding, I told her, "I can't speak for Traci, but I'm game. It'll just take me a minute to get dressed." Michelle picked my pants off the ground and brought them over to me. She quickly turned around and faced the opposite direction when I began to pull them on, only to be greeted by the sight of Traci coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her torso. "Hey, Michelle," Traci greeted her friend. "Hi." I informed Traci, "Michelle wants to go out and take a look around. You interested?" Traci had removed her towel and begun to further dry herself off. Traci's self-confidence of freely being nude in front of her friend reinforced my belief that she was clueless about Michelle's true feelings towards her. Being in a difficult position, Michelle acted unsure which way to face, then seemed visibly relieved when she turned to see that I had my pants on. "Yeah, but I'm really beat. I'm think I'm going to call it a night, but you two should really go," Traci said eagerly. I was mildly surprised by Traci's enthusiastic response, but shrugged it off. Retrieving a tee shirt and sweatshirt from my backpack, I put them on and pulled back my hair in a ponytail. I also took out a wool cap and put it on, since my hair was still wet. After a little soul-searching, I decided that I really should wear socks, too, since I had just gotten out of the bath, so had to get into my laptop case to retrieve them. Once I had finished dressing, I slid my cigarette case into my inner jacket pocket along with the matchbook. "If you can, pick something up for me to eat," Traci told me after I gave her a goodbye kiss. Frowning, I asked, "Won't you be sleeping by the time I get back?" "Yeah, but I can always eat it when I wake up," she answered. Michelle and I left Traci and made our way down to the lobby. When we got off the elevator, I led Michelle away from the way we had come in to the hotel and towards the back exit. I did stop in my tracks when I spotted a particular vending machine and quickly hurried over to it. "You looked like Traci, just then," Michelle observed with a grin, as I salivated over the wide selection of cigarettes on display. I nodded in agreement as I fished out a thousand-yen note from my wallet. Fortunately, the cigarette machine was not equipped with a reader that required an identification card with an integrated circuit chip showing that the bearer was over twenty. I ended up buying packs of Seven Stars, Alphabet Hs, and Cabins. I would have preferred buying another Japanese brand cigarette, but the Cabins came with a free lighter -- an offer that I could not pass up. I opted to try the Alphabet H first, and the novel way that the box slid open instead of having a flip top was neat. I soon discovered that the H stood for 'hard', indeed; it was stronger than my usual Camel Wides. As I savored the wonderful taste, a pack seemed to catch Michelle's eye. "Rose," she said, misreading the label. "Rosé," I corrected her. "Close enough," she replied with a shrug. Since I had already debated buying the pack with the name similar to our friend's, I dug out three hundred yen and purchased it. After retrieving the change and smokes, I handed the cigarettes to Michelle, saying, "Your mom smokes lights, so you can give it to her. It can be her birthday present." Smiling, Michelle slipped the cigarettes into her purse, and we headed outside. As the cold, crisp air enveloped us, I was glad that I had chosen to put on the socks. When we walked down the pathway, Michelle asked, "MOS Burger?" The chain restaurant that was situated across the street from us most likely prompted her question. "Mountain, Ocean, Sky," I explained. The rear entrance to the hotel emptied out onto a four-way intersection, and it seemed that most of the activity was towards Ikebukuro Station, so we went that way. After we crossed the street, Michelle mused, "I still can't figure out how you found out Mom's birthday." "You told me," I said, causing Michelle to glance in me in surprise. "Okay, not exactly. You mentioned that you were born in San Luis Obispo County, so I looked up your birth certificate and it listed your mom's and dad's birthdays." The revelation seemed to shock Michelle, as she came to a halt and just stared at me. "Shit," she muttered, "Mom's going to kill me. She made me swear not to tell you." "'Loose lips sink ships, '" I said with a wink after I came to a stop. "I wouldn't worry about Jean finding out just how I got ahold of the information, since you and I are the only ones who know how, and I know I'm not telling her." Giving me a sad smile, she said, "Perhaps it might have been better if you'd hadn't told me. Mom and I have been sharing a lot of stuff lately, and I would hate to lie to her." "Then don't. If she asks, feel free to tell her. It's not really your fault, anyway. I mean, how many people would actually go out of their way to take a bus up to San Luis and dig through the county records just to find out somebody's birthday?" Grinning, she replied, "At least one." We started walking again, and I added, "And there was no way that you would've known that I was so..." My voice trailed off as I tried to think of a proper term. "Anal?" Michelle supplied. Smiling, I told her, "I guess that works." It was a short walk to the Metropolitan Plaza, and even though it was close to eleven o'clock, we saw clusters of people in business attire, along with others in more casual apparel, leaving through the station's Metropolitan exit. Tobu -- a department store that had only until recently been the world's largest -- was closed, so we continued our journey north to see what we could find. Michelle did not say much as she looked around in wide-eyed wonder at the sensory overload of bright lights, strange sounds, and different odors. A few times, she would nudge me and point to what had caught her attention: a pachinko parlor, a van that had been converted to create and sell crêpes, a woman handing out packs of tissues. As we walked by the woman, we accepted the offered tissues, and Michelle asked me, "What is this?" "An advertisement for a bar," I told her after I read it. After she frowned, I explained, "People are more likely to accept something if it is useful to them. If she had just been handing out flyers, I doubt many people would take them." "But I thought that Japanese didn't blow their noses. Isn't that why we saw some people wearing masks?" Ever since we arrived in Japan, we had occasionally seen people wearing what appeared to be surgical masks. Jean had asked about it, and Rose had told her that people wore them when they were sick, since they could not blow their noses in public. I reminded Michelle about the 'public' aspect of Rose's statement, and added, "Also, toilet paper is not common in restrooms, so it is always good to have some tissues handy." We began walking westward when the north started to turn into more of a residential area. I had just lit up a second Alphabet H when Michelle was drawn to a café's window display. Among the dozen or so plastic replicas of food items, there was a strawberry parfait that Michelle was interested in so we started to enter. Then Michelle spotted their hours of operation. "25:00?" she asked. "One AM," I explained as we stepped inside. A waitress greeted us when we entered and showed us to a table in the smoking section; the cigarette dangling from my mouth cluing her in. After we were seated, she left, only to return shortly later with two English language menus. I politely declined them and ordered Michelle's strawberry parfait and a melon soda float for me in Japanese; I also ordered hot tea for the two of us. The waitress quickly left to fill our orders. An awkward silence fell upon the table as we waited; Michelle seemed nervous about something. While she seemed to work up the courage to say something, I decided to continue the discussion we had been having earlier. "The reason why Japanese wear masks when they are sick is not only to, umm, catch their snot, but to prevent them passing their illness to others. Even when a person is healthy, they will sometimes wear a mask to protect themselves from catching a bug. There is also a different type of mask that people will wear because of allergies. Hay fever is a big problem for some Japanese." Michelle nodded, but did not say anything. When the waitress brought over the tea, we sipped our tea quietly. The tranquility was broken after a couple of minutes when Michelle took a deep breath and asked, "Will you have sex with me?" Despite being in mid sip, I did not choke on my tea; Michelle's behavior had forewarned me. Still, it was amusing that she had chosen that opportune moment to spring her request upon me. Of the numerous things that I had thought she was going to say, that was not one of them. I stared at her blankly for a few seconds before I answered her honestly, "No." Michelle was taken aback and sounded hurt when she asked, "Is it because I'm not pretty?" "Hell, no! You are a very beautiful young lady," I quickly replied. "Then, why?" she asked. "Traci. I think--" "Oh, her!" Michelle said, misunderstanding me. "She gave me permission to have sex with you, on the condition that she is there to watch." Somehow, that did not surprise me. As much as I wanted to clear up what I had been about to tell her, I found her statement intriguing and arched an eyebrow and asked, "Oh, really?" Nodding, Michelle -- who had begun to grow gradually redder as our conversation continued -- told me, "The other week, she and I were talking about sex, and when I asked her what it felt like, she suggested that you could show me." Rolling my eyes, I told her, "My girlfriend's pimping aside, I think it would be a very bad idea for the two of us to have sex when you are in love with Traci." She stared at me dumbfounded and tried to come up with a reply consisting more than just a few monosyllables. The plan had been to wait to have this conversation with Michelle until after the trip, but that had gone out the window due to her proposition. The arrival of our food gave her some additional time to recover, but they remained untouched until she finally asked, "How do you know that I'm in love with Traci?" The fact that she did not try to deny it was a good sign, so I answered, "The way that you look at her is the way that I imagine how I must look. It is more than just being smitten; it is a look of someone who accepts another completely, faults and all." Michelle nodded, but remained quiet. Sensing that she just needed a little prompting, I observed, "The fact that Traci could be so blind is just one of her many endearing traits. If you don't mind me asking, when did you fall for her?" Michelle's mouth turned up into a half-smile as she recollected, "It was when I first met her in junior high. There was something about her that just drew me to her. She was really quiet back then and almost never smiled. I think the reason why I wanted to be such close friends with her was to make her smile. When she would genuinely smile, my heart would actually flutter. I've always known that there was something wrong with me for liking girls, but Traci was..." Michelle's voice trailed off when she saw me raise my hand. As much as I hated to interrupt her, I could not leave what she had just said alone. "I'm sorry, but 'wrong' is the wrong word to use. The only thing wrong would be to deny how you truly feel. I doubt that Rose and Pollyanna would consider their feelings for one another 'wrong'." Giving me a wry grin, Michelle said, "I think I knew how they felt for each other before even they did." Michelle drew quiet for a few seconds before adding, "You sound just like Mom. Not the whole Pollyanna-and-Rose thing, but the denying-feelings part." "Jean is a smart woman," I replied. Nodding, Michelle said, "She told me that, when she was my age, that she was attracted to other girls and that she used to fool around with them until she fell in love with Dad. She said it wasn't just a phase, because lately, she's found herself attracted to--" Michelle suddenly stopped talking as she realized what she was actually saying. Her forehead wrinkled with worry as she quickly added, "You won't tell anybody what we're talking about, would you?" "Of course not," I assured her. "What we talk about is between you and me. I won't tell a soul. Now, go on. Whom is Jean attracted to?" Michelle matched my grin and shook her head. "No way, José. Mom would kill me. It's bad enough that I told you about her messing with other girls." I had been joking when I asked about Jean. I already had a good idea who Jean's target of affection was, and if I was not mistaken, the feeling was mutual. Then, there was also Erin, who seemed to draw everyone's interest. A picture of Jean, Marge, and Erin engaged in some very interesting positions wandered through my mind, and I gave my head a small shake to clear the image. Michelle cocked her head to the side and gave me a funny look, so I told her, "I think that you should tell Traci how you feel about her." "I couldn't do that!" Michelle quickly protested, her eyes growing wide. "Why not?" "Because... because I can't." "What is the worst that could happen?" I asked. "She'd freak out and would never be my friend again," Michelle answered sadly. Frowning, I said, "While I think that she might 'freak out', I cannot believe that she would stop being friends with you. If anything, once she gets over the initial shock, I think she would be touched to know your true feelings towards her." I received a dubious look so I added, "Look, I'm not claiming that it will be an easy thing to do, and it is doubtful that Traci will immediately have the same feelings. Right now, you have an unrequited love, which means that you need to love twice as much. In time, Traci may slowly come to love you and take up some of the burden." "You're not worried that I might steal her away?" Michelle asked with a small smile. Shaking my head, I replied, "She's not mine to steal. Besides, a little over a month ago, I discovered that it was possible for me to love more than one person--" "Lori and Mrs. Caspar?" Michelle interrupted. She blushed and quickly added, "Sorry." Nodding, I said, "It's okay. Yes, Lori and Marge. While my love for all three of them is strong, Traci occupies a special place in my heart. If Traci fell in love with you and wanted to leave me, I would step aside and let her. Don't get me wrong, I might put up a 'small' fight, but her happiness is the most important thing to me." Michelle nodded her head slightly and sat there for a minute, looking thoughtful. Finally, she asked, "Doesn't Traci ever get jealous?" "Of her mom and sister? No, not that I have been able to detect. If anything, all three of them seem to worry that I don't spend enough time with the others. Perhaps because they're family is the reason why jealousy has not become an issue. Are you by chance jealous of me because I'm with Traci?" Shifting her gaze to a corner of the table, Michelle answered, "Kind of. I mean, I know that you're Traci's boyfriend, but I sometimes wish that you that you hadn't moved here. I mean 'there', you know, Central City." I smiled and nodded my head; the conversation distracting enough to forget what country we were in. When it became apparent that Michelle was not going to say anything else, I said, "You wish that I hadn't moved to Central City, so that's why you want to have sex with me?" Michelle's head jerked up, and she stared at me for a few seconds before she realized that I was just teasing her. Letting out a soft chuckle, she said, "Okay, I admit, it does sound kind of twisted. I just thought that, if you and I were to have sex..." "... it might bring you closer to Traci?" I supplied. Shrugging, she replied, "Kind of. I'm also curious to what sex is like, and you're pretty sexy." I reached across the table and put my hand over hers, telling her, "Thank you. I think that you are sexy, too. I also think that you are a very bright girl, but there are some things you need to know when it comes to sexual intercourse." "Fucking, sex, and love. Traci told us about your categories." Michelle spoke a tad louder than before, and I glanced around to make sure that there was nobody in earshot. When we had entered the café, there were a half-dozen other couples seated, but we were well away from any of them. Language barrier aside, there were a few universal English words, and Michelle had used one of them. "When you say 'us', I do hope you mean you, Rose and Pollyanna, and not the entire student body." Rolling her eyes, Michelle replied, "Give Traci some credit. After all, she only knows the numbers for the freshmen and sophomore class." I hung my head low, and Michelle began to giggle. When I looked up, she said, "I'm pretty sure that she only told us three." "Honestly, I would not be too shocked if she did tell as many people as you say she did. Okay, Traci's gift of gab aside, if we do end up having sexual relations, it wouldn't be love; our souls pouring into one another; nor would it be fucking; primal intercourse without feelings; but sex. I do care about you a great deal, and my feelings for you would inevitably come across. That said, you need to do some soul searching. Can you have sex with me, even though you are in love with Traci? Can you have a sexual relationship with Traci, even if she does not love you? Can you handle Traci loving you and me? You'll need to look into your heart of hearts and truly know these answers." "And before you and I can have sex..." "... you'll need to tell Traci your true feelings. I think it is only fair to both you and her. Also, are you taking any birth control?" "No, but I thought that we could use condoms," Michelle answered. "Condoms are a tool of last resort. It would be best that we wait until--" "You get your snip, snip." Michelle cut me off, in more ways than one, as she raised up her free hand made a scissors motion with two of her fingers. My legs reflexively crossed each other, and I blinked my eyes in surprise. In the time that I had known Michelle, she was shy and reserved. That evening, Michelle came across as a different person. Perhaps the candid conversation allowed her to be more open. Though, I was curious to where upon she came across that particular bit of knowledge regarding my upcoming vasectomy. Michelle seemed to read my mind when she told me, "Mom told me. She made me promise not to tell anybody else." I nodded my head. While I had asked Marge not to share my plans for the vasectomy with her youngest daughter, I had not laid any conditions about her informing others. "Cool. I guess we have another little secret that we can share." Michelle frowned slightly and asked, "Traci doesn't know, does she? Aren't you afraid that she might pull a Pollyanna?" I smiled at the comparison of Rose's girlfriend and myself. "I do plan on telling Traci, but I just want to make sure that it is safe to do so." The look of confusion was replaced with sudden understanding as she blurted out, "You think that she might stop taking the pill. You're afraid of becoming a daddy!" "No," I corrected her, "I do not want to put Traci into the position where she would have to make a choice one way or another. It's her body, therefore it is her decision, and I will stand by whatever choice she makes. My concern is that she would make an emotional choice instead of the logical one. After all, her body is still developing, and just becoming pregnant can pose some risks." "Trust me, I know exactly how well Traci is 'developing'," Michelle said with a little wink. "Do you really believe that she might stop taking her birth control if she knew you were going to have a snip, snip?" Michelle seemed to enjoy watching me squirm at her alternative term for vasectomy. "The foundation to love is honesty, and Traci and I truly love one another. That said, no, I do not think that Traci would deliberately stop taking the pill. Subconsciously..." I let my voice trail off and shrugged. Perhaps my fear was speculative; a reflection of the trouble I had adjusting to regular life. It had taken considerable effort to refrain from viewing others as potential targets or looking for multiple points of egress when entering a new room. Those parts of me had been second nature until I left the CYA and had resurfaced when I accepted the 100-yen coin. My words rang hollow in my head; a reminder that everything that Traci knew about my past was a lie. My one solace was that I tried to be completely truthful with Traci when it came to my feelings. By then, most of the ice-cream in my melon soda float had begun to melt, so I released Michelle's hand and picked up the long spoon that the waitress had brought along with the dessert. Smiling, Michelle picked up her spoon and began eating her parfait. After taking a few bites, she held up a strawberry and asked, "Ichigo?" "Hai," I replied with a grin. Michelle seemed proud of herself for remembering the correct Japanese word for strawberry. From there, the topic of conversation turned to trivial matters as we ate our desserts. When we were finished eating, I paid the bill and we left the café. As we stepped out into the cold night air, I noticed Michelle shiver slightly, and I began to remove my leather jacket. "No, Chad, I'm okay," Michelle protested. "Michelle," I said as I took my left arm out of the jacket's sleeve. "Really, I'm fine." "Rose," I said, my voice a tad more firm. For a brief second, Michelle stared at me before she began giggling. Calling her by our hardheaded friend's name seemed to do the trick, and she took the jacket. After she put it on, she accepted my offered hand, and the two of us continued our journey holding hands. I do not know if it was out of concern of my wellbeing, but Michelle suggested that we work our way back to the hotel. We did make a slight detour to a FamilyMart that was a block to the east of the hotel's rear entrance. Upon entering, we released our clasped hands so that we could pick up baskets and do our shopping in the twenty-four-hour chain convenience store. Besides food, I picked up some toiletries that I had neglected to pack, among which was a bottle of mouthwash. Despite Traci's assurance that she had grown accustomed to kissing me after I had smoked a cigarette, I wanted the experience to remain a pleasant one and not just something that she had to put up with. Granted, an easier solution would be for me to give up smoking, but the chances of that were the same as Abbie Hoffman being elected President of the United States. As I loaded up my basket with food, Michelle observed, "You sure are getting a lot." Glancing around, I told her in low voice, "Traci always gets hungry after fucking." Michelle blushed slightly as she giggled. There were ten other people in the store, four of them clerks; none of them heard my comment. When we reached the drink section, I retrieved a couple bottles of Poccari Sweat, in addition to a few other bottles of sports drinks. "Let me guess, Traci gets thirsty after fucking," Michelle said with a grin. Shaking my head, I replied with a wink, "No, I do." I debated on purchasing beer and some other alcoholic drinks, but decided that it would be prudent to have Marge or Jean buy it. I also opted not to buy any hot or cold items, since the mini-fridge back in the room was already stocked with stuff, and it was doubtful that Traci would be awake when I returned. The room did have a hot water heater, so I did buy a few different types of instant ramen -- they put the ones available in America to shame. There was also a wide selection of individually packaged bread, which seemed to excite Michelle. "Pan," she declared, picking up a random one. After I nodded, she told me, "It's the same word that I learned for Spanish class." "Makes sense, since it was the Portuguese who introduced bread to Japan, and their language is closely related to Spanish," I replied, as I picked up a couple packages of curry bread. Since Traci enjoyed chocolate, I added a couple of rolls that contained the sweet substance to my basket. When we finished our shopping, Michelle and I went over to the counter to pay the cashier. It was there that I spotted a variety of lighters, so I picked up two for Marge and Jean. I also asked for an extra plastic bag, which the clerk seemed more than willing to provide. When we left the shop, I had to ask Michelle for my cigarette case and lighter, since they were in my jacket. She further surprised me when she did not do what I asked; instead, she took out a cigarette, put it in her mouth, and lit it. Once it was burning, she handed it to me. "I used to do that for Dad when I was younger," Michelle explained when she saw my look of astonishment. "Mom put an end to it, because she was afraid that I might pick up the habit." That explained why she only drew the smoke into her mouth instead of her lungs. "It is a filthy habit, and you should not start," I hypocritically admonished her, after I had taken a deep inhalation of the seductive carcinogen. "Why do you smoke, when you know that Traci doesn't like you to?" "Because I enjoy it," I answered, truthfully. "And I think that Traci has come to realize that and accept it as one of my numerous character flaws, just as I accept the few ones that she possesses." Grinning, Michelle prodded, "Like what?" "Well, for one -- and I'm only going to tell you one -- I do think that Traci spends an awful lot of time on the telephone. I do try to hold my tongue and not tease her about it, but I occasionally fail. Granted, gabbing on the phone won't lead to an early death like smoking might... unless she talks on the cell phone when she starts driving, and I will definitely put my foot down then." Michelle let out a soft chuckle and replied, "Did you know that she's actually fallen asleep while talking to me on the phone before?" "Wow, you must be quite the bore," I observed, and I received a playful shove, before I added, "I do remember Marge telling me something like that." Upon entering the hotel, I made a beeline to the cigarette machine. I held my breath as I inserted my money and selected a pack, slowly exhaling when it dispensed it. Cigarette vending machines in Japan were supposed to be equipped with a timer that prohibited operations during late hours in order to prevent minors from purchasing cigarettes. It appeared that the timer for the machine that I was using was either malfunctioning or (more likely) the hotel had disabled it so that their guests would not be inconvenienced. As I was buying my seventh pack, Michelle observed, "Wouldn't it be cheaper to have Mom or Mrs. Caspar buy them from a store instead of from the machine?" "Nope," I answered. "The prices of cigarettes are regulated here, so they cost the same wherever you buy them. Besides, I can't ask Jean to buy her own birthday present." Michelle grinned and joined me in choosing different brands of cigarettes for her mother. When I finished, I transferred the unopened packs into the bag I had acquired from the FamilyMart. Michelle commented, "That's more than twice as much as Mom got you." "Well, she is more than twice as old as me," I replied, and then explained the concept of ten cigarettes representing one year as we walked over to the elevator. On the ride up, Michelle agreed to my request to sneak the cigarettes into Jean's purse, though it was decided that she would check to see that her mother was still sleeping. I waited at the entrance to their room as she did that and swapped her the bag of cigarettes for my jacket when she returned. After I bid her goodnight, I walked two doorways down to the room that Traci and I were sharing. The room was dark, so I turned on the light to the entryway. It provided enough illumination for me to make my way across the room to the table. As I made my journey, I noticed a few things, among them; an additional pillow and two towels were sitting on the low luggage table. I paused at the dresser and opened one the drawers to confirm my suspicions, and once satisfied, made it to the table and sat my purchases down. The light at the table had a variable setting, so I turned it on to its lowest setting, lest I disturb my sleeping beauty. Traci was sprawled out on top of the bedcover; her head towards the foot of the bed. The blanket from the other bed was being used to cover her. I sat down and smoked a cigarette, all the while, staring at her angelic face. Reviewing the other traits that I had not shared with Michelle, they were trivial compared to the sheer joy I received just by being in her presence. If I was a stronger man, I would give up smoking for her, but I was not. When I finished my cigarette, I snuffed it out in the ashtray and began sorting out my purchases. Taking the few toiletries that I bought into the bathroom, I found a place for them. I used the toothbrush and paste provided by the hotel to brush my teeth and used the newly acquired mouthwash. I had smoked plenty of cigarettes that day and vowed to hold off until I had given Traci a good morning kiss. My laptop was already set up on the desk with the Ethernet cable plugged in, so I decided to fire off an e-mail to the otakus. However, I found myself quickly pounding the laptop's mute button when Chiyo-chan's voice began to fill the room; the Azumanga Daioh character singing about baking had replaced my Windows Startup sound long ago. It became clear that I was not fast enough silencing the little girl's voice, because I heard a long yawn come from behind me. "Hey," Traci said sleepily when I turned and gave her a look of apology. "Hey, yourself. Sorry about that," I told her. "No biggie. I didn't realize how sleepy I was." "Well, go back to sleep. I'll join you in a moment." Stretching, she said, "No, I think I'm actually more hungry than sleepy." Traci got out of bed and made her way to the table to examine what I had bought. I got up, took the kettle to the bathroom and filled it with water. Unsure if she would choose ramen, I figured that I could always drink some tea if she did not. The hot water maker used induction technology and instantly began heating the water as soon as I placed the kettle on the pad and turned it on. "When did Rose come over?" I asked. Traci gave me a funny face, though it was unclear if that was from my question or her first taste of Poccari Sweat. I figured the latter when she set the bottle down and picked up a different sports drink. "What makes you think Rose came over?" Traci asked, after taking a swig from the other bottle. "For one, our clothes have been unpacked, ironed, and put away." "And what makes you so sure that I didn't do that?" "You know how to iron?" I asked, in mock disbelief. Traci gave me a stern stare for a few moments before she began to giggle. "Okay, wiseass; I didn't do the ironing. How could you be so sure it was Rose and not Mom?" "If I'm not mistaken, that's Rose's shirt," I said, tilting my head back towards the luggage table. "Shit! I forgot to hide that. I was going to surprise you," Traci replied with a grin. "Rose came over with the pillow and towels about a half-hour after you two left, and we chatted while she unpacked and ironed our clothes. When I commented about all of the tee-shirts with Japanese on them that you had brought, she told me that I could borrow one of her tee-shirts and retrieved it from her room." "And it says..." I prompted her, knowing full well what was written upon it. "I love yuri." "And yuri is..." again making sure that she was aware of what she declaring. "Yuri means lily," Traci answered confidently. "I didn't trust her at first, but she went online to a Japanese dictionary site and showed me that it really means lily." "Why would Rose have a shirt saying that she loves lily?" I asked, successfully keeping a straight face. "Oh, that's Rose's pet name for Pollyanna. Pol-ly, Li-ly. Rose said that she is going to try to find a shirt for Pollyanna that says 'I love rose'." I was at a crossroad and was unsure which path to take. On one hand, I considered Rose a close friend, and while I did not suspect that the redhead had premeditated it, the setup was flawless. On the other hand, I loved my girlfriend and did not want to see her embarrassed. More preciously, I was worried about the ramifications that would arise after Traci found out the 'alternative' meaning to the tee-shirt. Love (or fear of losing my smoking privileges) won out, so I suggested, "Perhaps you might want to look up the meaning yourself." Traci frowned slightly as we swapped places. She had decided on ramen, so I prepared the bowl that she had selected. After a few minutes, she said, "All I'm finding is stuff saying that yuri means lily." I was already betraying Rose, but I still wanted to maintain some deniably, so I recommended, "Try yuri and anime." "What?!?" Traci exclaimed softly after a minute later, signaling that she had found a website that explained yuri in more detail. "But, people even name their children Yuri." Shrugging, I replied, "Some people name their children Dick." Traci came over to the table and sat down in the other seat. Peeling off the lid to the instant ramen fully, she muttered, "Oh, I can't wait to payback that little... yuri." Handing her a set of wooden disposable chopsticks, I said, "At least you learned a new word for lesbian." Traci stared at me for a few seconds before smiling and said, "Thanks." Beckoning me with a finger, we leaned in and shared what started off as a brief kiss. It quickly became a probing one, and when we broke our lip lock, she commented, "Minty." "What?" I asked when I saw her smile slowly turn into a frown. "Oh, I was just thinking that I might prefer tasting cigarettes over a clean mouth. That way I can be sure that you aren't trying to hide anything." Rolling my eyes, I said, "Very well. I'll keep that in mind the next time I perform cunnilingus on your mom or sister." Traci had started to take bite of ramen, but paused to stare at me. Her chopsticks hovered midway between the bowl and her mouth as she instructed me, "Now THAT is something you damn well better hide from me. I don't ever want to taste those two on your lips." I quickly reassured her that I would do as I was told, though part of me thought about the words she had used. Freudian slip or not, she only precluded Marge and Lori, leaving the door open for others -- not that I was seeing anybody else. Just whom else did Traci talk to about utilizing my services? ------- Chapter 46 Don't stay long when the husband is not at home. - Japanese Proverb When I awoke Sunday morning, I did so with a smile on my face. Traci had found her way into my arms, despite her assurance that she would try sleeping in the other bed. I had retired for the evening while she was eating and had fallen asleep before she finished. Careful not to disturb Traci's slumber, I slowly untangled myself from her. Unlike my girlfriend, I had no problem leaving the bathroom door open as I attended to my morning ablutions. Despite the blasé attitude I had put on when Traci excitedly showed me the toilet, I was intrigued to test out the bidet feature myself. Finding the experience most enjoyable, I made note to look into replacing all of the household toilet seats when I returned from the trip. I was rinsing out the (extremely small) complimentary disposable razor when I heard a soft knock coming from the room's door. A quick glance through the eyehole informed me who it was, and I opened the door. "Ohayo gozaimasu," I greeted Marge. "And a good morning to you, too," Marge replied as she quickly came into the room and pushed the door close behind her. I figured her haste had something to do with my wardrobe -- or more precisely, my lack thereof -- and reports of a strange nude gaijin would not be the best start to our holiday "What's up?" I inquired. "Speaking of up, is Traci awake?" Marge asked. I took a few steps back and glanced at my sleeping beauty. Turning my attention back to Marge, I shook my head. It seemed as if Marge was debating something in her head for a moment before saying, "Mr. Johnson, we need to talk." Marge's tone of voice did not need to signal me that she had something significant to talk about; referring to me by last name was a strong enough indicator. "Do you want to go for a walk, or do you think it's safe enough to discuss in here?" "Here's fine. In a way, it does kind of concern Traci, though I don't want to include her in the conversation if I don't have to." I gestured to the chairs at the table, and Marge walked over to them. Since she was wearing jeans, I figured that I would do the same and found my pair hanging in the closet. After I slipped them on, I joined Marge in the unoccupied seat. The pack of Seven Stars was on the table, so I took out two cigarettes and offered one to Marge. After she accepted the cigarette, I used a lighter that was also on the table to light her and my coffin nails. She gave me a confused look when I offered her the lighter. "I bought lighters for you, me, and Jean last night." Smiling, Marge said, "Oh, cool. Thanks. I mean, arigatō." "Dō itashi mashite," I replied. For about a minute, the two of us smoked our cigarettes in silence as we both watched Traci sleeping. Marge seemed satisfied that Traci was truly asleep and said, "I think Jean wants to have sex with me." "Think, or did she proposition you directly?" I asked, my thoughts drifting back to the conversation I had with Jean's daughter. "No, she didn't come right out and say anything, but she has been dropping hints." "Do you want to have sex with her?" "That's my dilemma," Marge answered after a moment's pause. "Jean is an attractive woman, and I would be lying if I said that I hadn't fantasized about having sex with her. I think I am mostly curious to see what it would be like to have sex with a woman who was not related to me by blood." We glanced at each other, and Marge gave me a wry grin before our attention shifted back to her slumbering youngest daughter. After she had taken a long drag on her cigarette, Marge continued. "The problem is with Scott. You see, Jean told me awhile back that she lets Scott fool around when he's 'on the road'. She, on the other hand, has remained monogamous, but ever since January, she has been dropping hints that this would be the first time that she would be 'on the road'." It took me a few seconds to realize what she was getting at. "You're afraid that he might have given her a sexually transmitted disease or infection," I observed. "The thought has crossed my mind. Yet, I don't think that Scott is the type who would mess around with whores or escorts. Hell, he might not even be seeing anybody at all. Just because Jean gave him permission to fool around doesn't mean that he has." "Scott is a guy, right?" Marge let out a small snort. "Okay, maybe I'm being naive, but if I do have sex with Jean, it means that it will be a while until I can have sex with you or Lori... Slave!" Marge's clarification of whom she would not be having sex with was a bit loud, and we watched Traci for half a minute for any signs that she was awake. But Traci was still asleep, or she was very good at faking it. "There's always safe sex. I don't remember seeing dental dams at the FamilyMart, but they do have condoms. You could cut one of them and make an impromptu one." "I packed a few dental dams," Marge replied. Glancing at her, I saw her blushing slightly. "As I said, she has been hinting that if we were going to have a fling, it would only be during this trip. It's just that safe sex isn't a hundred percent, and things can always happen that you don't plan. I know how paranoid you can be when it comes to STDs, and I don't blame you." Paranoia was a trait that I knew that I had, but it was not easy hearing others recognizing it. Instead of trying to justify it, I told her, "It sounds like you have given this a lot of thought." "Maybe too much," Marge confessed. "I mean, this could be all for naught. Whenever Jean would hint about being on the road, I dropped a hint of my own about her getting tested. I just wanted to let you know what was going on, just in case..." Marge noticed when I turned my head to look at her, so she did the same. Leaning across the table, we exchanged a tender kiss, before returning to our smoking. Marge did not join me in having a second cigarette, but did try the Poccari Sweat that her daughter had abandoned. She did not find it as repulsive as Traci had and sipped on it while I smoked. Halfway through my second cigarette, the phone began to ring. I tried to reach it before it woke Traci up, but failed. Even the foreign sounding ring was not enough to fool my girlfriend's ears; magically bolting awake and scrambling to answer it. "Mushy mushy," Traci answered the phone. "Moshi moshi," I grumbled and rolled my eyes. Traci ignored my correction and had an unusually brief conversation on the phone. When she finished, she said, "Housekeeping will be here in a few minutes." "Housekeeping?" Marge asked. Marge's question alerted Traci to the presence of another person in the room. Traci started to cover herself with the sheet, but relaxed when she saw it was only her mother. "Morning," Traci greeted her. "Ohio Ginzu knives," Marge replied, and then began chuckling; most likely from the look of disbelief I gave her. "Sorry, Chad, I just couldn't help myself." When I turned my attention back to Traci, she was looking at Marge and me suspiciously. Cautiously, Traci asked, "Where's my morning kiss?" Having a little fun, I told her, "I thought you didn't want to taste your mom on my lips." "Not your lips or any part of your body. I don't want to taste Mom, Lori, Slave, Rose, Michelle, Pollyanna, Mrs. Weller, Mrs. Huntington, Fran, or Vicky." "You forgot Erin," I observed. "Says you," she replied with a grin, before getting out of bed. She gave me a brief kiss on the lips before gathering a few articles of clothing from the dresser and dashing to the bathroom. When the door closed, I turned to see a surprised Marge. "Am I imagining things, or does Traci have the hots for Erin?" she asked. "Who doesn't have the hots for Erin?" I replied. "Honestly, I would say no. I think she is just messing with us, but your daughter has been known to surprise me. But that does remind me; I didn't clear the open invitation I gave to Erin with you gals first. Would you have a problem with Erin crashing at our house or even possibly moving in?" Marge frowned and answered, "Staying over once in a while is fine, but moving in might be tricky. She knows about you and me, but she doesn't know about me and Slave, does she?" "I don't know. I didn't tell her, but she is a very perceptive young woman, and I don't know what all Lori has told her. One time, she did mention knowing somebody who was involved with two siblings, but she wasn't clear if the siblings were having sex with each other. I do not think she would have a problem with the type of relationship you have with Slave, nor do I believe she would mention it to anybody else, but..." "... if she did, I could be in a world of hurt," Marge completed my thought. "It's bad enough that Irene knows and Jean suspects, but to entrust somebody I don't know all that well with my secret... I'm going to have to know Erin better." "I bet you want to know her better," I said, grinning. Marge looked around for something safe to throw at me, but her chance of finding a useful projectile was interrupted by the door chime. As I made my way to the door, I kept glancing back at Marge so that if she threw anything, I would have a good chance of deflecting it. After glancing through the keyhole, I let in whom I had deduced was 'housekeeping'. "Ohayo gozaimasu ketsujin," Rose and Pollyanna greeted me in unison as they stepped through the doorway. At first, I was puzzled why they were calling me an outstanding person, but I soon figured out what they were trying to say. Rose began to frown when I began to chuckle. "Did we mess that up?" Pollyanna asked Rose. "I don't think so. Ketsu means 'ass' and jin means 'person', so ketsujin should mean 'assman'," Rose replied. "Except, ketsu has five other meanings, including 'excellence', and ketsujin already means 'outstanding person'," I explained. Rose asked, "So what's Japanese for 'assman'?" "Oh no," I told her, shaking my head, "I think I like being called an outstanding person." Japanese was a complex language; meanings of words varying depending on the context; translating English terms into it is quite an art. However, the more that I reflected upon it, it did seem that ketsujin would be the correct term for 'assman'. I thought it best not to share that revelation with Rose and Pollyanna, lest it become my new nickname. "Oh, hey, Mrs. Caspar," Pollyanna said when spotted Marge. "Morning girls," Marge replied. "What is all this talk about asses?" Rose grinned and answered, "Nothing really. Just something Pollyanna and I came up with after a phone conversation with Traci." "It must have been quite a while after the phone call, since you two sounded 'occupied' after Traci finished talking to you," I said with a wink. Rose stared at me for a few seconds before saying, "Bullshit." "Consider yourself lucky, Chad. I only had one room between me and them, and the noise they made woke me up from a sound slumber," Marge added. Rose whirled to study Marge before announcing, "You two are lying. There's no way you two heard us last night. We made sure to keep our noise down. Hell, Pollyanna nearly suffocated me with a pillow when I was starting to get loud!" "Why don't you tell them what you used to smother me," Pollyanna suggested, grinning. While Rose began to turn red with embarrassment, Pollyanna, Marge and I, began to chuckle. Traci emerged from the bathroom wearing jeans and her blue sweat jacket; the jacket was already zipped up. "What's so funny?" she asked. "Nothing," I replied, figuring that Rose had been embarrassed enough. "What brings you two over?" I asked Pollyanna and Rose as I maneuvered over to the unoccupied chair by the table. As the two girls sat down on the bed closest to the table, Traci came over and sat down on my lap -- which put a small damper on me lighting up another cigarette. Once everybody seemed settled, Rose asked, "What are the plans for today?" Since she seemed to direct the question towards me, I replied, "I figured that we would let Jean decide, since today's her birthday." Rose nodded, and Pollyanna watched her until it became apparent that she was not going to say anything else. "Do you think she might be willing to go to the Meiji Shrine today?" Pollyanna asked. "Oh no! It's okay. I can go there myself, or there's always next Sunday," Rose quickly protested. It took me a few seconds to work out why Rose was interested in visiting Meiji Shrine, but when I did, I found myself smiling. "I'm sure that Jean would have no problem with us going there today. Besides, I think the only thing we should plan for next Sunday is getting ourselves to the airport." I waited until Rose nodded in agreement before asking Marge, "Is Lori up?" "Yes, she is. She was taking a shower when I came over, so she should be ready by now." I suggested to Traci, "Why don't you call your sister and invite her over?" As soon as Traci jumped out of my lap and headed over to the phone, I reached over and grabbed my cigarettes and lighter. Rose's and Pollyanna's giggles drew Traci's attention, but she just rolled her eyes when she saw me taking out a cigarette. I hesitated before lighting up, silently seeking permission from Pollyanna and Rose, before doing so. When they both nodded, I lit the cancer stick and took a deep lungful of the succulent, seductive smoke. Turning my head back slightly, I exhaled through the corner of my mouth, blowing the smoke towards the open window. I was able to enjoy a few drags on the cigarette before Traci ended the short conversation with her sister. After she hung up the phone, she asked, "Should I see if Michelle and her mom are up?" "Yes, but not by phone. Not everybody enjoys being woken up that way." Blushing, Rose apologized, "I'm sorry. I'd thought you two would be up by now." "No, no, no, you misunderstand me," I quickly told Rose, "I was already up. I was just trying to say that not everybody gets as excited as my Traci to hear the phone ring." "Keep it up, and I won't be 'your' anything," Traci chided me with a grin. Marge volunteered, "Why don't I go and see if they are up? I need to get my purse, anyway." As Marge got up to leave, Traci came over to claim the vacant chair. She did pause to retrieve one of my tee-shirts from the dresser and tossed it in my lap as she passed by. "Finish getting dressed. I'm tired of watching these two lusting after you," Traci instructed, nodding her head towards her friends. I did as I was told, though I did not think the looks I received from Rose and Pollyanna were anywhere near 'lusting' Marge appeared to have spotted Lori in the hall and held the door open for her. As Lori came in, she asked, "Should I use the safety latch to keep the door ajar?" "Sounds good," I replied. After Lori did that, she came over to join us. Taking the chair from the desk, she brought it around so that she could sit in it and face us. "What's up?" she asked. "Not much," Pollyanna replied. "Last night Chad fucked Traci--" "Winter Formal!" Traci interrupted. Pollyanna and Rose looked at Traci in surprise. After a brief moment, Rose announced defiantly, "That's fine. I already told Chad some of the stuff that happened that night." Pollyanna blushed slightly, seemingly less comfortable with others knowing what had gone on at the Winter Formal than her girlfriend. Reaching out, Pollyanna put her hand on Rose's knee and started to say, "I don't think--" "Room 203." That caused both Rose and Pollyanna to blush fervently. "You wouldn't! You swore!" Rose sputtered. Traci gave her friends an innocent smile that was anything but. I thought it best to end the whole charade of what had taken place the previous evening, but part of me was curious to know what Traci was referring to. My curiosity was going to have to remain unfulfilled, however, because Pollyanna turned back to Lori and said, "Not much is up." Lori, as did I, found the whole situation most amusing, but did not pry any further into what had been revealed. Instead, she turned to her sister and asked, "Are you cold?" Lori seemed to be referring to the sweat jacket that Traci had on. Shrugging, Traci replied, "Kind of. Somebody left the window open last night." "I'm sorry, I was unaware that you did not know how to close it," I replied sweetly. "Is that the reason why I found you curled up next to me instead of in your own bed?" When Traci nodded, I added, "This room does have a heater, you know." "Yeah, but it was easier just to snuggle up with you. Besides, you're the one who is always talking about conserving energy and whatnot." "Don't let her fool you, Chad," Rose chimed in. "I bet she can't go to sleep without your arms around her. Word is that she didn't sleep a wink at the slumber party a few weeks ago." That revelation did not surprise me; Traci's behavior from when she had returned from the slumber party had made me suspicious. Traci had agreed to attend one of the cheerleader sleepovers, but when she had returned home the following day, she had consumed a large quantity of soda (primarily Mountain Dew Code Red) and was wired. When she did go to sleep that night, she slept hard for fourteen hours. Instead of protesting or defending herself, Traci suddenly jumped up and maneuvered herself to look at the clock that was between the two beds. After counting on her fingers, she turned back to me and asked, "Almost three in the afternoon, yesterday?" I had only begun to nod my head when she turned back around, went over to the small table that was between the two beds, and picked up her cell phone. We all watched Traci as she made her way to the cell phone, and Rose commented, "She's going to put you in the poor house, Chad." Smiling, I waited until the redhead had turned back towards me, before lifting my cigarette and saying, "It is worth it." Traci was on the cell phone for less than a minute when the room's telephone began to ring. It only rung once before Traci answered it with her other hand and brought the handset to her unoccupied ear. Her conversation only lasted a few seconds before she tossed the receiver on the bed that Rose and Pollyanna were sitting on and told me, "Mom wants to talk to you." My cigarette was practically down to the filter, so I snuffed it out in the ashtray, got up, walked around the bed, and picked up the discarded handset. "Moshi moshi," I said, using the Japanese for 'hello' on the telephone. "She's on the cell phone, isn't she," Marge's amused voice greeted me. After I gave an affirmative grunt, Marge continued, "Jean and Michelle are up, and I'm in their room. Should we head back over there, or do you have an idea on what we'll be doing this morning?" "There's a Japanese restaurant on the second floor that serves breakfast. How about we treat Jean to a traditional Japanese breakfast?" Marge seemed to confer with the other two ladies before saying, "Change that 'we' to an 'I', and that sounds like a plan." "Okay, 'I' will treat." "Ack! I mean 'you'." "Well, if you insist, I will." "Baka," Marge replied, using her limited Japanese vocabulary wisely. "Meet at the elevator in five?" "I think ten would be more realistic." "Okay, I'll pass the word in here then. Love you." There was a slight hesitation before Marge muttered, "I love you, too." The line went quickly dead, and I could almost visualize the ribbing that Jean was most likely giving Marge over her parting words. I was still grinning when I turned my attention back towards Lori, Pollyanna, and Rose. Rose and Pollyanna were already getting to their feet. "We heard," Rose explained, "At the elevator in five minutes." "Ten," I corrected her. "Also, there will be plenty of time afterwards for you to change or retrieve anything you might need." Rose beamed a smile, came over to me, and gave me a warm hug. When we broke our embrace, she reached up, tilted my head down, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks," she told me. As her two friends left, Traci gave me a bemused look, while she continued her conversation on the cell phone. It came to no surprise that it took more than fifteen minutes for our entire entourage to assemble at the elevators. Since there was an ashtray next to one of the banks of elevators, I was able to smoke a cigarette, which seemed to ease any annoyance that I might usually have had. "Nice tee-shirt," a smiling Pollyanna commented to Traci, drawing a slight nudge from Rose. Traci had unzipped her sweat jacket, and the 'I love yuri' was clearly visible. I had thought that her claim of being cold had been a ruse; wanting to keep the shirt hidden was a more likely theory. Shrugging, Traci explained, "Rose loaned it to me last night." Marge and Lori were the last to arrive, and the eight of us easily fit into the elevator car. I was holding hands with Traci, and she practically dragged me to the back of car. She had a mischievous grin on her face and, while wary, I was curious to see what she was up to. I soon found out when she stealthily maneuvered herself behind Rose. "What the fuck!" Rose exclaimed as Traci snaked her left hand around the redhead's waist, her right hand reached around and began fondling Rose's right breast, her lips began nibbling on Rose's neck. Everyone seemed to be stunned speechless as we watched Rose struggle against Traci's tight grip. "Oh, hush now," Traci admonished seductively. "You didn't complain when I did this to you last night." It was clear to everyone that Traci was just joking, but Rose and Pollyanna did not seem to share in our amusement. Actually, from Pollyanna's mixed expression, it seemed that she was struggling between finding the situation funny and feeling jealousy and outrage that somebody was treating her girlfriend that way. Rose had just about freed herself from Traci's clutches when the elevator slowed to a stop at the seventh floor. Traci quickly released her grip and took a step back. Rose whirled around and was about to say something when the doors opened to let on some additional people. I felt sorry for the two businessmen and family of three that had to join us for the rest of the elevator ride. When the elevator doors opened for them, they were greeted by an interesting sight: eight gaigin (foreigners), five of them struggling to control their laughter, one whose look of innocence was overblown, and two whom were red with anger/embarrassment, though it must be a unique treat to see a natural redhead whose skin color and hair matched. The elevator stopped again on the fifth floor, and we had to squeeze together to let on the additional people. Traci gave me a nudge and signaled with her eyes towards Rose's backside. Traci's hand was caressing Rose's ass, though it was difficult for her to keep it there as Rose tried to evade it without drawing undue attention to herself. Rose was even using her right hand to reach back and attempted to swat away the unwanted hand. Traci attempted to use her left hand to guide my right to Rose's butt, but I resisted her strongly. Witnessing Rose's wrath on numerous occasions, I knew it was best not to have it focused upon me. When the elevator finally arrived at the second floor, my party and I made a hasty exit. We were the only ones to get off on that floor, and when the elevator doors closed, Marge, Jean, Lori, Michelle, and I began to laugh. Pollyanna was biting her bottom lip, a seemingly desperate attempt to withhold her laughter. Rose, on the other hand, was furious. "What the hell has gotten into you?!?" she confronted Traci. Traci calmly replied, "I don't know. It must be this tee-shirt. It makes me feel all... yuri." Rose's eyes grew wide, and she quickly looked at me. "You told her?" Rose asked accusingly. Coming to my (unnecessary) defense, Traci stated, "He did not! I looked it up myself. You think I'm dumb enough to believe what you told me?" Blinking in surprise, Rose sounded honest when she said, "Well, yeah. I mean, you did believe me when I told you that the red M&Ms caused cancer." It was as if the tables were instantly turned, as Traci became the one who was embarrassed and angry and Rose became the one in control. At that point, Pollyanna must have felt that it was okay for her to laugh, because she did. Rose's revelation also explained why during Christmas, Traci only ate the green M&Ms. Sputtering, Traci protested, "I-I know that they don't cause cancer! I just, I just don't like their taste, that's all." "Is it because of the taste that you stopped eating Pop Rocks, or did you believe me when I told you what happens when you eat a bunch and drink soda?" Rose asked. Traci started to reply when she turned to me and asked, "Why are you just standing there? You should be defending me." Again, I was put into an awkward position: my friendship with Rose versus my loyalty to the one I loved most. I decided to do what I often found useful: put up a diversion. "There's lead in chocolate," I proclaimed. As the laughter paused and I received more than one blank stare, I explained, "I don't eat chocolate because it has lead, and too much lead can lead to lead poisoning." I received more than one look of disbelief, before Traci turned to her mom and demanded, "Is that true!?!" Shrugging one shoulder, Marge answered, "I've heard that before, something about it being grown in third world countries which don't have strict environmental policies, but you have to eat a lot of chocolate, like every day, for that to be of any concern." "I like to watch what I put into my body," I defended. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I was wide open for attack. Traci did not hesitate a heartbeat to reply, "Oh, that's rich coming from 'Mr.-I'm-going-to-smoke-two-packs-a-day-when-I'm-in-Japan'." As far as nicknames went, that was one that I would not mind trying to live up to. However, I knew better than to embrace it -- at least in front of Traci. It appeared that distraction was no longer needed, as Traci's attention was solely focused on me; questioning what she considered a major cornerstone in her food pyramid did the trick. I decided to take the next logical step: retreat. "I don't know about everybody else, but I'm hungry," I announced. When I turned away, a few of the ladies chuckled, but I could feel Traci's stare burning into my back. It was only a short walk to the hotel's Japanese restaurant, Hanamusashi. Being first to arrive, I opened the door and held it open for everybody else. When Traci passed by, she glared at me, but I also noticed that she was fighting hard to suppress a smile. I quickly recognized her diametric reactions from previous occasions -- she was 'busting my balls'. Her anger at me for insulting her favorite confection was being overblown so that she could watch me squirm. I was formulating a way to respond to Traci's faux outrange when I joined the ladies inside the restaurant, and I overheard Traci request, "Three smoking and five non-smoking." Marge quickly corrected, "Eight non-smoking, please." As we were lead to a table that would accommodate all of us, Marge admonished Traci, "Today is Jean's birthday. The least we can do is to have our meals together." "Oh, don't drag me into it," joked Jean. "It might be safer having Chad and Traci at separate tables." After I sat down next to Traci, I took ahold of her left hand and told her, "Buttercup, I was only joking about chocolate. It is perfectly fine, so you eat as much of it as you want. Besides, if I ever need to write something down and I don't have a pencil, I can always rub my finger across your forehead and use that." Traci let out a small snort before replying, "Oh, don't worry, I will. I figure that your second-hand smoke will kill me long before I die from lead poisoning." "I wouldn't be too sure about that, since I plan to quit smoking in three years, two months, two weeks, and six days." Traci beamed, while the time reference was lost on everybody else at the table. Marge was the first to decipher our cryptic conversation when she said, "Ahhh. So, that's going to be your wedding present, eh Chad?" I was surprised that Marge had quickly deduced what Traci and I had been alluding to one another, but had not yet come out and actually said. My astonishment must have showed, because Marge explained, "Come, now! You've told Traci before that you wouldn't marry her until she finished high school, so it is pretty easy to guess that she has been planning on the two of you getting married the day after, if not the very same day." Rose and Pollyanna nodded in agreement with Marge's assessment. With mocking exasperation, I said, "Well, if Traci's planned it, I guess I have no say in the matter." After a moment's pause, I glanced across the table at Lori and added, "Though there is 'someone' who is graduating before Traci." I was still holding hands with Traci, and I received a not-so-gentle squeeze for my comment. "I can guarantee that 'someone' will not graduate from high school if I passed around some pictures of her blindfolded and bound to the coffee table." Lori had blushed slightly when I had directed my remark towards her, but that quickly faded and she turned ashen at Traci's words. Quickly turning to Traci, I chided, "Line. Too far." Using my free left hand, I illustrated my point by drawing a line in the air and then gesturing how far out of bounds her side had been. Traci gave me a chagrined look, and I turned back to Lori and reassured her, "There're no such pictures." "Oh, I know she was just kidding, Chad. It was just... for a split-second, I imagined what would happen if everyone at school found out about me. I'm okay, really. It's no big deal. Honest." "I wouldn't worry about what people think about you at school, Lori," Pollyanna said, "They'll already be shocked from hearing about how Traci mauled my girlfriend." Before an outright verbal brawl broke out, a waiter came over with some hot green tea. Since we had already planned on having the traditional Japanese breakfast set, the only choice we had to make was either plain rice or porridge. Since Jean and Michelle had never had rice porridge before, they opted for that while the rest of us decided on plain. Once the waiter was out of earshot, Jean asked, "What the heck is porridge?" Rose explained, "Think of regular rice, but wetter and mushier. We have an electric rice cooker at home that makes it easy to make." I felt what I imagined what Marge had experienced when she had overhead Rose refer to her as a 'better mother', though on a much smaller scale, when Rose referred to the house as 'home'. Ever since her first night there, I had tried to reiterate 'Mi casa es su casa', but it had always appeared as if she considered herself as just a guest. Over time, she gradually seemed to accept the house as a home, but it was always welcome to hear her say that. Small conversations began to break out around the table, so I took that opportunity to lean over and give Traci a quick peck on the cheek. Keeping my head close to hers, I told her in a low voice that only she could hear, "You will be the first one I'll marry." Traci pulled back slightly so I could see her arch an eyebrow. When she leaned back in, I explained, "I figure then we'll have to move to Utah so I can marry wives Two and Three." Snickering softly, Traci reminded me, "If Two and Three are Mom and Lori, then it's the Ozarks that we'll have to move to." The traditional Japanese breakfast was extremely delicious. Besides rice and miso soup, the breakfast came with five other side dishes. Rose had actually prepared three of the side dishes before and was extremely interested in the two that she had not. Michelle ate the porridge as it came, but Jean added some shōyu (soy sauce) to hers. We were just about finished eating when Jean let out a gasp of surprise. Jean blushed slightly when she realized that she had drawn the table's attention. It appeared that she was holding something in her lap and out of our line of sight. Looking me straight in the eyes, she told me, "Thank you." I grinned and nodded. Michelle, whom was sitting next to her mother, shared my grin. Marge was sitting on the other side of Jean, and she looked down to see what Jean was holding. Marge then playfully slapped Jean's wrist, telling her, "Put that away, I'm paying." It was a likely assumption that Jean had been stealthily trying to retrieve her wallet from her purse when she discovered the birthday present. She started to protest, but Marge cut her off, saying, "You can buy me breakfast on my birthday." "May 12th," I volunteered. Shaking her head, Marge voiced, "I swear, how in the world does he remember stuff like that?" A small snort came from the right of me and added, "Yeah, but he always forgets to lower the lid of the toilet." My 'absentmindedness' when it came to the toilet lid, was a running joke, as were most good ones. Ignoring my girlfriend's comment, I decided to fire off one of my own. "I'm just very good at guessing. Just like I would guess that Jean weighs fif--" "What's the plan for today?" Jean quickly interrupted me. As the rest of the ladies at the table laughed, Traci gave me a small nudge with her elbow. When I leaned my head towards her, she whispered into my ear, "There's no way she can weigh fifty-something." I was about to whisper my reply to her when Jean cleared her throat and demanded, "What are you two whispering about? You'd better not be discussing how much I weigh." "Actually, we were. I was going to explain to Traci that I was going to give my answer in kilograms since we're in Japan and its better to think in metric while we are here." "Wow! So that means that we weigh less!" Traci said excitedly. Jean, whom had not had much experience of Traci's knack of playing innocent, stared at her in disbelief. Rose, on the other hand, had. She nodded slowly and added, "You're right. It also makes things longer. You had twenty-one centimeters of Chad's cock shoved--" "203!" In Traci's haste, she dropped even saying 'room', and relied on just the number to silence her friends. Pollyanna and Rose did turn a little pink, but they did not blush anywhere near as much as they had before. The two girls looked at each other for a few seconds before Rose said to Pollyanna, "You know, I'm kinda getting tired of Traci blackmailing us. Maybe we should tell everybody what happened in Room 203." Michelle turned her head slightly down, which signaled to me that she had also been privy to whatever had happened in Room 203. Marge, Jean, and Lori seemed interested in hearing the (apparently) juicy details. I also found myself curious, but thought that the hotel's restaurant was not the proper forum. There were a few other gaijin seated nearby, and Rose's comment had made me nervous enough as it was -- though she could have been talking about my pet rooster. Before Pollyanna could give Rose an answer, I found myself answering Jean's previous question. "Since today is your day, we thought we would leave the details up to you. That said, it would be very cool if we could swing by Harajuku, first." Rose's head swiveled to address Jean, "But if you don't want to, we don't have to." "I would like it if we were to go there," I clarified. "What is there to see there?" Jean asked, curious. "There's the Meiji Shrine, plus a few other things," I replied vaguely, giving Rose a little wink. Jean noticed the wink as well as Rose's look of chagrin, which appeared to pique her interest. "Okay, let's do that. We can play it by ear once we get there." Traci suggested, "We can always go to Ginza afterwards." Frowning, Marge gave her youngest daughter a cold stare and inquired, "Why?" "It's Mrs. Weller's birthday. We have to buy her a birthday present." "Oh, heavens no! You girls don't have to get me anything!" Jean protested. "Methinks this has less to do with you, Jean, and more to do with somebody's birthday next month," Marge said. This time, Traci's look of innocence was not lost on anybody at the table. She still attempted a meager defense. "That's right! Pollyanna's birthday is in a few more weeks." "Oh don't you dare drag me into this," Pollyanna warned Traci. "When have you ever known me to give a rat's ass about jewelry?" "Two, or would it be three days ago, when you commented about feeling Erin's nipple rings," Michelle observed matter-of-factly. While Traci had the 'Miss Innocent' routine down pat, Michelle always seemed to know the best time to make a comment. After everybody had a good chuckle at Pollyanna's expense, Traci seemed to think she was left off the hook. I thought she deserved at least one more barb. "It is such a shame that the plane tickets counted for all of the other gifts of the year, at least, to those I gave the tickets to." Traci unabashedly said two words: "Engagement ring." Scoffing, I said, "I might be able to find a ring for you there, but I hope you don't think that I'll be buying you a diamond ring. The sheer amount of 'blood diamonds' that are in the marketplace and the lack of a standard in certification make buying one a risky business. I do not think I could cope knowing that part of my money went to financing armed conflicts or slave labor." I had always considered myself lucky that my friends shared similar political beliefs. However, Traci was not the only one looking at me in disbelief. It appeared that the progressive cause received the short end of the stick when it came to a 'girl's best friend'. Jean, Pollyanna, and Rose needed to head back to their rooms after breakfast, so the rest of us went down to the lobby to wait for them. We found six empty chairs surrounding a low table, so we decided to rest there. More importantly, there was an ashtray on the table, so while we were waiting; I chose to have a cigarette. I was taking my third drag on the cancer stick when I noticed Marge watching me with a hungry look in her eye. I was not the only one to notice it. Traci sarcastically told her mother, "You know that I know that you're smoking again, so why don't you light up and slowly kill yourself like Chad is." Looking slightly guiltily, Marge replied, "I've already had my morning cigarette. I usually limit myself to three a day." "I bet my boyfriend can't limit himself to three an hour," Traci stated. "I can too," I mockingly protested. "I don't smoke when I'm asleep, and I haven't resorted to smoking during sex." Marge let out a cough that sounded like 'coughkah', which caused me to add, "I have not resorted to smoking during sex with Traci." Traci rolled her eyes, while the rest of her family chuckled. Michelle smiled, but I noticed that she studied Lori and Marge, most likely trying to gauge whom I had been referring to. Since it had been Marge who had prompted me, I thought it was pretty easy to figure out. Jean was only gone for about five minutes before she joined us in the lobby. When she sat down in the unoccupied chair, she confessed, "I didn't want to have Chad's gift occupying my purse all day. Still, I'm kind of curious how he was able to sneak it into my purse." "I have my ways," I explained, giving Michelle a sly wink. Not catching the wink I gave her daughter, Jean told me, "Shoot. If you were in my room last night, you could've had 'your ways' with me, instead. That would've been a better birthday present." There was no need to pretend Jean's flirting made me embarrassed. While Marge and Jean took some delight in Jean's words, it was Michelle's turn to roll her eyes. I wondered how much Michelle knew about her parents' sex life. Jean's openness with her daughter aside, it was doubtful that she would have told her about her plans while being 'on the road'. It was more likely that it was something that she might have picked up. As Lori and Traci had demonstrated the other day, children often knew more than what their parents thought they knew. Traci ignored Jean's flirting with me and asked her, "What did you get?" Michelle answered for her, "Nonya." I had no idea what 'nonya' meant, but it appeared that Traci did. Ignoring her raven-haired friend, she asked again, "What did you get?" "Nonya-damn-business," Jean told her, grinning widely. I found myself laughing with everybody at Jean's joke. When the laughter died down, Traci asked me sweetly, "Chad, what did you get Mrs. Weller?" I was tempted to reply with my newly expanded vocabulary, but I wanted to stay on Traci's good side. I was able to delay answering by digging out another cigarette and lighting up. I could not help but notice Traci's intense gaze as she watched me take my initial drag. I was bringing up my hand again to take a second one when Traci reached out and placed her hand atop my forearm. Raising an eyebrow, she signaled to me that I was trying her patience and I needed to answer her question, one way or another. "Weeell," I stalled, still debating if honestly was the best recourse or if a lie was in order, "what I gave to Mrs. Weller was -- Oh! I think I see Pollyanna and Rose." Traci rolled eyes, most likely thinking that she was too smart to fall for such an obvious trick. It was not until the other ladies got to their feet to get a better view that she broke her stare with me and looked over towards the banks of elevators. Frowning, she said, "I see Pollyanna but-- Oh-my-Goddess!" At first, I was taken aback at Traci being able to figure out whom Rose was dressed up as faster than me. I then realized that it was more likely she was using 'Goddess' instead of 'God' since I sometimes used it. All of us got to our feet and met the two girls halfway. "Ohayo gozaimasu Chikane-sama," I greeted Rose, who grinned widely at my recognition of the character she was dressed up as. Rose was dressed up as Himemiya Chikane, one of the characters from her favorite bittersweet anime, Kannazuki no Miko. Even with a near-photographic memory, it took me a few seconds to place where I had seen the school uniform that Rose was wearing. That outfit, combined with the long black wig that Rose was wearing, had caused Traci trouble initially identifying her friend. After everybody had complimented Rose, Traci voiced, "Maybe I should go change shirts, after all." After breakfast had finished, Traci had surprised us by saying she was not going to change her shirt before we left the hotel. Instead, she had explained that only otakus would know the actual meaning and that she could handle a small number of people thinking that she loved lesbianism. Rose's new outfit clued Traci that she might be exposed to more otakus than she had initially planned for. "You can just zip up your sweat jacket," Pollyanna pointed out. Unlike Rose, Pollyanna had not changed clothes, but she did have Rose's backpack slung on her shoulder. When we stepped outside, the crisp morning air was not the only thing to greet us. Strong gusts of wind were blowing, amplified by the tall buildings that surrounded us. It made smoking extremely difficult, but not impossible. Another thing that was extremely difficult for Rose was to keep her skirt down -- a point that I emphasized with a low wolf-whistle. I do not know if that was a contributing factor, but Traci came to her friend's rescue by stripping off her sweat jacket and offering it to wrap it around her waist. I finished my cigarette before we reached the entrance to the station and tossed the dead butt into a receptacle that was already full of cigarettes. When I stepped on the escalator, Traci stood beside me, which prompted me to take a step back and guide her in front of me. No sooner had I done this than a man in a business suit briskly walked passed us. "If you are going to stand on an escalator, you need to do so on the left-hand side so that others can pass," I explained to her. Ikebukuro Station was the third busiest in Tokyo, and even on a Sunday, it was easy to see why. We had already decided to activate the seven-day rail passes and made our way to station's office to do so. It did take about ten minutes for us to exchange the vouchers that we had for actual passes, after they had compared the vouchers with our passports. Harajuku was only six stops away on the Yamanote line, so after we received the passes, we just needed to show them to the person manning the manual gate at the Japan Rail paid-fare zone. He did not even bother examining them and waved us through when he saw us holding them. All of the train lines were well-marked in English, and we easily navigated our way to the platform. It was less than a minute before the train that we needed pulled up to the platform. About a dozen people got off the car that we boarded, yet despite that, there were no vacant seats since those who had been standing had quickly taken the empty seats. Still, it was not terribly crowded, and we able to stand altogether comfortably. "During the rest of our stay, we'll either want to travel before seven or after nine so that we can avoid the morning rush-hour. Then again, some of the subway lines offer 'women-only' cars during rush-hour," I expressed my concern. "Women-only? Why do they have that?" asked Marge. Instead of answering her verbally, I maneuvered myself behind her and began to do to her what Traci had done to Rose in the elevator. Unlike Rose, Marge did not try to escape from my grasp, but I only fondled her for a few seconds. Being mostly obscured by the rest of our traveling party, I did not think that my actions were noticed by the other passengers. "Is that a big problem?" Marge asked. "I guess so. The thing is that sometimes the cars get packed tighter than a can of sardines, so unintentional caresses do occur. The trouble is that some chikans, gropers, like to take advantage of the crowded situation." "Note to self: take subway during rush-hour." A couple of us chuckled, but Michelle rolled her eyes at her mom's remark. Glancing at Traci, I saw her watching the Liquid Crystal Display above the train car's doors in rapt fascination. Not only did the LCD show where the train was along the route in both Japanese and English, it listed how much time was between each stop and which side of the car the doors opened before arriving at each station. It would also have an occasional commercial, though it did not have any sound accompanying it. At Shinjuku, close to two dozen people got off the train. Since Harajuku was only two more stops along the way, it seemed rather pointless to sit down for only four minutes, so we remained standing and allowed those who boarded to scramble for any empty seats. One passenger who did board at Shinjuku stood out, as a girl dressed up as a Gothic maid tended to. Rose's and the girl's eyes met, and they nodded their heads to one another in recognition. "Did you buy that outfit or make it yourself?" Jean asked Rose. "Made it," answered Rose. "I worked on it whenever I went over to Polly's house. Her mom helped me a lot." Pollyanna added, "Rose is being modest. She did just about all of the work herself and would only let Mom help her whenever she got stuck." Jean nodded in understanding, having witnessed Irene's seamstress abilities firsthand with her own daughter's Halloween costume. Smiling, she pondered aloud, "I have a feeling that we will be seeing quite a few people dressed up." Jean was correct. No sooner had we exited the train at Harajuku than we saw a half-dozen other CosPlayers milling around on the platform. Besides the Goth Maid, a score of others who were in different cars also disembarked from the train. Rose appeared positively giddy, a condition that we all took delight in. We had to hurry to keep up with her as she forged her way to the station's exit. "I'm surprised she didn't talk you into dressing up as Himeko," I mentioned to Pollyanna, referring to the girl that Rose's character adored. Letting out a small snort, she replied, "Oh jeeze, don't think she didn't try! We might both have blonde hair, but that's where the comparison ends. Himeko was totally clueless about Chikane's true affections. Now, Traci is suited for Himeko." "Huh?" asked a distracted Traci. Even though she was on the other side of me, Traci had been taking pictures with her cell phone and had not heard the gist of the conversation that Pollyanna and I had been having. Pollyanna just grinned, seemingly smug at being able to get a barb in under the radar. She also added, "Anyhow, if I was CosPlaying, I couldn't be Rose's yojimbo." I doubted that Rose would have need for a 'bodyguard', but held my tongue. When we left the station, we found it was far less windy than what we had experienced in Ikebukuro. However, even if it was windy, I think Rose would have put up with it instead of hiding her costume, as she quickly removed Traci's sweat jacket from around her waist and returned it. Traci quickly donned the sweat jacket and zipped it up fully. She had already received more than one lascivious wink directed at her. A short distance from the station, a throng of people had already begun to gather at the entrance to Yoyogi Park. Amongst the (vast majority female) CosPlayers were sightseers -- foreign and native -- who were admiring them. After Rose had found an empty spot, Pollyanna unslung the backpack and began setting up. I should have been surprised that they had the foresight to bring a small plastic tarp to lie upon the ground, but Rose's foresight had always been spot on. In addition to the tarp, they had a handmade sign that caused me to grin broadly: it was a pictograph of a camera and a circle with an equal sign between, signaling that it was okay to take pictures. While the Japanese would understand that the circle meant 'good', they had also written 'OK' inside of it. Placing the backpack on the spread-out tarp, they propped the sign up against it. "I guess it was good timing that we were here when they're holding this event," Jean observed. I told her, "It's like this every Sunday, unless it rains. Actually, I think they'll still show up even then; they'll just have umbrellas." A small crowd had begun to gather around us and take pictures of Rose. Michelle also had a camera out and was taking pictures, as well. Rose told us, "You guys don't have to hang out with us. Go and explore the area." "You sure? I don't mind staying," Marge told her. "It's okay. Just go. Polly and I will be fine, and one of us will always be right here," Rose assured her. Marge remained doubtful until Lori maneuvered herself to Rose and whispered something into her ear. A grin appeared on Rose's face, and she instructed Marge, "Buzz off, Mom." Everybody chuckled, including Marge, and we took our leave from Rose and Pollyanna. As we began to walk away, we watched as Rose, finally free from us, began to alternate between looking stoic, like the character she was portraying, and grinning broadly, flashing the V sign. We came to a stop approximately fifteen meters away and watched the spectacle. After a minute, one brave soul worked up the courage to ask if he could pose with Rose, though it appeared that he had to communicate via gestures. Rose nodded, and after his companion took the picture, Michelle used the same technique to signal to him that she could take a picture of the three of them. After taking the picture, she had them hold the pose so she could take a picture with her camera, as well. After that, it was as if the floodgates opened as others clamored to have their pictures taken with Rose, including other CosPlayers. When we renewed our trek to Meiji Shrine, we passed many more CosPlayers, and it soon became apparent that Rose was most likely the only non-Japanese doing CosPlay. Traci swapped her cell phone with an actual camera and began taking pictures of other CosPlayers. She then asked her mother why she was not using her video camera. "Shit!" Marge exclaimed, "I forgot that I had it!" Marge frantically dug into her purse and retrieved the small video camera. Once out, she paused and looked back to where we had came from. Because of the crowd, Rose and Pollyanna were no longer in sight. Jean was able to read Marge's expression. "You can film them when we come back," Jean told her. Letting out a long sigh, Marge nodded. "Remind me," she instructed Jean. Marge kept the video camera out and began to film as we walked along the path to the shrine's entrance. When we passed through the first torii, 'gate', there was a Temizushawe, a fountain to purify oneself. I stopped and used a bamboo scooper that was there to rinse my hands and mouth, which seemed to bemuse my friends. After passing through the second torii, one of the largest in Japan, we were surrounded by tall evergreen trees. It was a stark contrast to the busy cityscape that we had just been in. Along the way, we did pause to take in a large wall of sake barrels that had been donated to the shrine from various parts of the country. From there, it was less than a five-minute walk to the shrine buildings. When we arrived before the Main Shrine building, I stopped, bowed twice, clapped my hands twice, and then bowed one more time. Marge was the first to comment about my actions. "That's odd. I never would have imagined you behaving like that. You're still an atheist and didn't become Buddhist, did you?" "Shinto," I found myself correcting her, "and yes, I am still an atheist, but that does not mean that I do not respect other religions." Quick as a whip, Marge stated, "Ah, so it was respect that you were showing when you and Eve--" "Iiiiii'mmm never going to live that down, am I?" I cut off Marge, causing the others (save Lori) to chuckle. Lori blushed slightly, but she gave me a demure smile. "I still contend that I was not being disrespectful to the church itself, but I should have known that Rose might take offense." We entered a large courtyard where there were already a lot of people milling around. When we came up to the Haiden, the Worshipers Hall, I clapped my hands again, brought my palms together in front of my chin, and said a short silent prayer asking that my friends always be protected. While Marge had correctly pointed out that I was an atheist, I figured that praying could not hurt. When I finished, I dug into my pants pocket and tossed in a few hundred yen into the large collection box that was in front of me. Traci was at my side and mimicked my actions, though I had no knowledge of what the content of her prayer was. When we turned around, we were greeted by an interesting sight. A wedding procession had entered the courtyard from one side and was crossing over to the other. It was lead by a Shinto priest, with the bride and groom dressed in their wedding kimonos. A few steps back were the rest of the wedding party dressed in a mixture of formal kimonos and formal western-style dress, as well as some other Shinto attendants. Traci took a few pictures before letting out a long sigh. "Three years really isn't such a long time, unless you start counting the days," I told her, taking a stab at what caused the sigh. Traci looked at me and smiled. We then spent the next half-hour looking around the Main Shrine building; the majority of the time seemed to be taken up by looking at the different souvenirs they offered. It was a sunny day and began to get warm, to the point where Traci unzipped her sweat jacket, but she still kept it on. When we made our way back to where the CosPlayers were, I amusedly noticed that her sweat jacket had returned to its prior state. Rose's attraction was still drawing a crowd, but it was considerably less than before. Rose was first to notice us and waved, which alerted Michelle as well. Jean did not need to remind Marge about videotaping because she was already filming. Despite posing for hundreds of pictures, Rose seemed self-conscious when she noticed that, so Marge only videotaped her for a few minutes. "Man, I didn't realize how exhausting this could be," Rose told us when we came up to her. Despite her words, she still had excitement in her voice. "Did you want to take a break, Love?" Pollyanna asked her. Rose gave a small nod, and Pollyanna went to the sign and flipped it over. It was identical to the front side, except instead of the circle with the 'OK' in it, it had a large 'X' with 'NO' written underneath. Again, I could not help but grin broadly at the preparations that they had taken. "Have you had a chance to look around?" Marge asked them. Shaking her head, Rose replied, "No, we haven't. We've been busy ever since you left." "I can understand why," I told her, "Who wouldn't want to take a picture of such a beautiful girl?" While Rose smiled at my compliment, Traci observed, "I bet you would have drawn more attention if you dressed up as that girl from Grenadier." Traci was referring to Tendo Rushuna, the heroine of Grenaider. She was a very well-endowed character, a point emphasized when she reloaded her revolver by heaving her breasts and catching the ammo in midair as it was projected from her cleavage. Rose started to reply to Traci, but changed her mind at the last second and asked, "Where's Lori?" Rose's question made us all realize that Lori was not present. Before any panic could set in, Lori appeared, carrying a couple drinks. Handing them to Pollyanna and Rose, she explained, "I thought you two might be thirsty, so I stopped off at a vending machine." The two girls thanked her, and I reached down with my right hand and took ahold of her left. "You shouldn't wander off like that, you scared us." "Sorry," Lori apologized, blushing slightly. Traci gave me a subtle wink as I continued to hold Lori's hand. Before we left for Japan, I had discussed with Traci that I wanted to show affection to her mother and sister in public; something that was forbidden to me around Central City. "Tell you what," announced Marge, "Why don't I stay here with the girls' stuff so that they can look around, and the rest of you can go shop. We'll meet back here in another hour." "I'll stay, too," Traci replied. Rose started to protest that she had spent enough time there, but Marge's stern look cut her off. Giving in, Rose smiled and thanked Marge. Traci, Pollyanna, and Rose went off to explore the other CosPlayers while Marge stood guard over their stuff. Jean, Michelle, Lori, and I began our journey eastward, away from Yoyogi Park and into Omotesando, the area's name. Etiquette dictated that I be on the side closest to the street, so I let go of Lori's hand, maneuvered to her right side, and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. Lori hesitated for a few seconds before she brought up her right arm and wrapped it around my waist. When I glanced at her, she gave me a soft smile. We remained so coupled as we walked along the street, pausing at different shops to look at their wares through the windows. We had gone about a quarter of a kilometer when we came upon Laforet, a large building that housed about a hundred small boutiques. All three ladies were interested in checking it out, but I hesitated for a second when something else caught my eye. Lori noticed it too, and grinned as she released her hold around my waist. "Go. You can meet up with us inside," she told me, giving a playful push towards the cigarette receptacle that was a few meters away. Instead of making a sudden departure, I wrapped both arms around her waist and gave her a tender, lingering kiss. Lori blushed slightly, her embarrassment accented by Jean's catcall. "Love you," I told her after breaking the kiss, and I watched the three of them enter the building before walking over to the smoking area to light up. Some wards in Tokyo prohibited smoking along the streets, but Omotesando was not one of them. The reason why I held off smoking (besides the close proximity to Lori) was because I had not yet acquired a portable ashtray. I did see a few for sale at kiosks in the train stations, but I had not wanted to delay our party. As I chain-smoked my second cigarette, I made a mental note to buy one before the day was up. With a fresh dose of nicotine rushing through my veins, I made my way into Laforet. It only took me a few minutes to find them and I took great delight in watching Jean try on outfits that were more geared to her daughter. Michelle seemed slightly mortified when her mother decided to buy an outfit that exposed a great portion of her midriff and other parts of her anatomy. She grew even more so when Jean chose to wear the outfit out the door. "I can't believe you are going to wear that in public!" Michelle told her mother. Frowning slightly, she asked, "Why not? I like it." Turning to me, she asked "What do you think?" "I think you look very hot and sexy, Mrs. Weller," I told her, making sure to use her married name. "Then again, you're always hot and sexy, but that outfit makes you doubly so." Smiling broadly, Jean thanked me, while Michelle rolled her eyes behind Jean's back. Michelle also noticed something while she was standing behind her mother. "Oh my God! You're not wearing underwear!" exclaimed Michelle. "Gee, Honey, I think there are some people in Tibet that didn't hear you. Would you rather have me showing off my panties and bra wearing this?" Muttering something under her breath about 'acting your age', Michelle took the bag that contained Jean's prior ensemble from her mother, and carried it for her. It was getting close to the time to be heading back, so we left Laforet. Once on the street, Michelle appeared to be still embarrassed and insisted on walking a few paces ahead of Mrs. Weller. Jean laughed it off as she walked alongside Lori and me, my arm finding its way back to where it had been. "So, Chad, you think I'm very hot and sexy, eh?" "Yes. I also think you're very much married, and my life is complicated enough as it is." "Complicated?" Lori teased. "Is that what you think of Mom and me?" The two ladies laughed as I hung my head in shame. The wisest move on my part was to remain silent, lest I dig a bigger hole than I was already in. As with the church incident, I had a strong suspicion that my words would be brought up again. And again. And again. ------- Chapter 47 I want to say one word to you. Just one word. - Mr. McGuire Jean, Lori, and I found Marge alone where we had agreed to meet. She told us that Rose had gone off to change into her normal clothes and that Pollyanna and Traci had accompanied her. It took a minute to get that information from Marge, as Jean's new outfit seemed to dumbfound her. "Hubba-hubba," Rose said, announcing the girls' return. Grinning, she told Jean, "You look awesome! I can't place the character, but I'm guessing it's from one of Chad's hentai videos." I quickly protested, "Hey! I might download them, but I don't actually watch them. If I remember the logs right, the person who watches the most hentai is--" "--not important." Marge said, cutting me off. She had a slight blush, but she was not the only one of my housemates who had one. I would occasionally review the server logs to make sure that security had not been compromised, and it was always interesting to see who had been watching what. It was actually a toss-up (-off) of who viewed the most hentai and porn, but I thought it best to keep that information to myself. "Where to now?" Rose asked as she slung her backpack. "From the way Jean's dressed, I guessing the wharf," Marge commented. Traci and Pollyanna frowned, not understanding the reference, but the target of Marge's observation did. "Hey, I'm not dressed up like some cheap whore," Jean protested. "No, an expensive one. I don't know if you'll get much, showing off your cellulite and stretch marks." Jean subconsciously glanced down at her exposed stomach before looking Marge square in the eyes and said, "Bitch." However, Jean's smile seemed genuine and it did not appear that she was too offended by Marge's joke. After a few of us had stopped laughing, Jean added, "One thing that I wanted to do when I came to Japan was to go to a bathhouse, but I guess it is rather early to take a bath." "Nonsense," I told her. "Today's your day and if you want to take a bath, we'll take a bath." Jean arched an eyebrow, so I quickly clarified, "I mean, we will all go and take a bath." Raising her left arm up, Rose sniffed her armpit before she asked me, "You think I'm stinky and need a bath?" It was going to be a very long holiday indeed if I was going to defend everything I said, so I chose to ignore Rose's question. From the numerous occasions I had seen Jean in a bikini, in addition to her current state of (un)dress, I was fairly certain of the answer, but I still needed to ask. "Do you have any tattoos?" A wicked grin appeared on Jean's face, and I was fearful of her reply, but she seemed to change her mind at the last second and just shook her head. I knew practically every inch of the Caspars' skins' surfaces, so there was no need to ask them, and Rose, Pollyanna, and Michelle were all too young to have any tattoos. "Okay, I think I know where we should go, then. It should take about forty minutes to get there, but it should be well worth it," I announced. Smiling, Jean told me, "Lead the way." Nodding, I guided the party back to the train station, boarded a train, and we continued our counter-clockwise journey on the loop line. The Yamanote line was extremely useful, in that it circled central Tokyo and most of the stations on the loop connected to other JR lines or the Metro. During the twenty minutes it took us to reach Shinbashi station, I reviewed if the choice I had made was a good one or not. While Jean had asked to go to a sentō, a bathhouse, I was leading them to an onsen, or hot spring. Almost every neighborhood in Tokyo had a sentō, and the price was regulated by the city to 400 yen. Onsens were less common, and they could charge as much as they wanted. There were two 'theme park' onsens in Tokyo: LaQua and Oedo Onsen Monogatari. LaQua was part of Tokyo Dome City and was not too far from Ikebukuro, but I thought that Jean and the rest would find Oedo Onsen Monogatari more enjoyable. At Shinbashi, it was a short walk from the JR line to the Yurikamone line. While we were walking, I explained, "We have a couple of choices. We could either get a round-trip ticket for the station we need, or we could get a day pass that would allow unlimited use of the Yurikamone line." "Is there much to see?" Marge asked. Rose, who had retrieved her guidebook from her backpack while on the train and read up on Odaiba, said, "There's Fuji TV and Tokyo Big Sight. It would be kinda cool to check them out, but..." Rose's voice trailed off as she noticed a few surprised looks. It was rare for Rose to be assertive, so I hoped that the reaction she received would not persuade her otherwise. It seemed like Marge was thinking along the same lines, because she quickly declared, "We'll get the day passes." After we purchased the passes, we proceeded through the automated ticket gate and took an escalator up to the platform. We just missed a train and had to wait five minutes for another. This turned out to be a good thing, because it allowed us to line up for the first car -- something that confused my traveling companions when I insisted upon it. Since Shimbashi was the start of the line, the train emptied out when it pulled in; we boarded a completely empty car. "Where's the driver?" Traci asked, being the first to ask what everybody else seemed to be thinking. "It is fully automated," I explained. "There is no need for a driver." Traci was not the only one to give me a skeptical look, but she seemed to enjoy sitting at the very front of the car. The train did have a control panel for manual operation, but it was covered and locked. Still, some of the gauges were visible and we were able to watch the speedometer climb as we got underway. While it appeared that the train was a monorail because it was guided along a central rail, it was actually propelled by rows of rubber wheels on both sides. As the elevated concrete track began to rise up, we were granted a spectacular view of both the Tokyo cityscape and Odaiba, the manmade island created in Tokyo bay. The track made a 270-degree turn as it went up to the Rainbow Bridge, and we rode underneath the regular trains and cars. It took approximately twenty minutes to reach Telecom Center Station, the stop closest to Oedo Onsen Monogatari. Close to thirty other passengers got off the train when we did, but most dispersed after exiting through the ticket gates. There were a couple of families and individuals who headed towards the onsen, and we followed behind them at a respectable distance. When I took Marge's hand, she glanced at me before looking towards her youngest daughter. Traci was in a conversation with Michelle, but when she noticed Marge and me holding hands, she smiled and continued talking. Marge weakly protested, "I don't think this is such a good idea." "I do. It really sucks that I can't show my affection towards you and Lori in public, back in Central City. At least we don't have to worry about people seeing us together while we are in Japan," I explained. "Thanks Chad, but it really isn't necessary. Knowing how you feel is good enough for me," Marge replied. Despite her words, however, we continued to hold hands until we reached the onsen. While the onsen was only constructed a few years ago, the façade made it appear as if it was from the Edo period. It was composed of two buildings: a large main one and a smaller one to the side. There was a sign on the smaller one that caught Jean's attention, and she began to laugh. "Jeeze! I know I called Marge a 'bitch' earlier, but do we really need to take her here?" Jean asked. Before I had a chance to explain the concept of the pet onsen, Marge replied, "Perhaps Chad thought that since they accepted pets, they would allow women dressed up as skanks in." "I am not a skank, Mrs. Robinson. Harlot? Maybe, but not a skank." Upon being called 'Mrs. Robinson', Marge quickly let go of my hand. Before another round of barbs and jabs could be unleashed, Michelle rolled her eyes and tsked. "Children." Traci agreed, and the two of them began walking towards the main building's entrance; the rest of us followed in their footsteps after recovering from our laughter. "Irasshaimase," a smiling young woman dressed in a formal kimono greeted us as we entered the onsen. She then gestured to a ramp that led from the genkan (entryway) to a section that had rows of shoe lockers, saying, "Dōzo oagari kudasai." "Ojamashimasu," I replied to her welcome and following invitation to 'come up' to the raised floor that she standing on. Since the floor was less than a half a meter from the genkan, the ramp was primarily for those with physical disabilities. One of the things that I had noticed in Japan was a lack of handicap accessibility. Perhaps now that Japan was becoming an aging society, ramps and other aids would become more common. The ramp led up to a series of wooden risers that was laid out between the shoe lockers. We walked on them until we found a bank of lockers that was unoccupied. As I slipped off my Birkenstocks, I transferred my bare foot off of the riser down to the actual floor, noting that my companions were doing the same. The shoe locker was large enough to hold other items as well, and I noticed Rose stowing her backpack inside her locker. We went from the shoe lockers to the entrance hall, where there was already a short line of people. When we joined the queue, Jean started to open her purse, but Lori stopped her. "I'm going to pay your way. This will be my birthday present to you." "You don't have to give me anything," Jean protested. Instead of countering verbally, Lori reached under the neckline of her shirt and pulled out a necklace that she was wearing. Hanging next to the BDSM pendant that Erin had given to her was a silver 'L'. When Lori had received the necklace that the 'L' had hung from, Michelle had explained that she had bought the silver chain, but her mom had bought the pendant. Upon seeing the visible evidence on why Lori should be allowed to give Jean a present, the older women let out a loud sigh and nodded in defeat. Fortunately, Jean did not see the large grin that was plastered across my face. I knew that Lori, almost without fail, wore the necklace with the BDSM pendant, usually underneath her clothes. She would sometimes wear the gift she had received from Michelle and Jean on the outside of her clothes, but this was the first time that I had seen the particular combination that she had just produced. I could not help but think that Lori was as devious as myself, having the foresight to wear Jean's present and produce it as proof as to why she should be allowed to return the favor. "Junior High?" Rose asked me, interrupting my thoughts. It took me a few seconds to figure out what she was asking me, until I spotted a price board that she had obviously seen. Rose seemed satisfied by my nod, but Traci asked why. "Technically, you girls would still be in Junior High, by local standards. Japan has three years of junior and senior high school," I explained. Traci started to frown, but suddenly perked up. "Doesn't their school year begin around now?" Slowly nodding, I answered, "Yes, at the start of April." I could almost see the internal struggle that was going on inside of Traci, and I had a strong suspicion to what it was about. Unlike her previous joking about things weighing less or being longer by referring to them by metric, the idea of still being in Junior High seemed to be a real blow. However, there was a considerable price jump between the children's price and adults'. My weakness with regards to feminine logic was once again shown when I was surprised by Traci's assertion of being in Junior High when it came to her turn to pay the attendant. Everyone, save Jean, paid for themself, and we each received a badge that hung on a long neck strap. The badges contained a barcode with a corresponding ten-digit number printed underneath. Besides our money, the clerk also collected the keys to our shoe lockers; a subtle way to ensure that we would return to settle our bill afterwards. Before going into the changing rooms, we needed to select a yukata. While I would have preferred a subdued one, similar to the one I owned, everyone else insisted that I pick the one with the picture of a sumo rikishi (wrestler) on it. Not wanting to disappoint, I did as I was told. Everyone else but Rose and Pollyanna selected different colorful yukatas, primarily with floral print designs. The two girls decided upon subtle white ones that were decorated with blue kanji so that they could wear matching outfits. I went into the men's changing room and found an unoccupied locker. Stripping naked, I placed my clothes inside before donning the yukata. The key to the locker had a handy wrist strap, which I put around my left wrist. Being somewhat ambidextrous, I nevertheless primarily used my right hand, and my training had taught me to keep it unencumbered. Kuso! While putting the key on my left wrist had been unconscious act, it did remind me that I was on a mission and that I had the hundred-yen coin to worry about. Even though I was almost convinced that it was an ordinary coin and that the whole 'mission' was more of an act to make me jump through a bunch of hoops, I could not help but feel compelled to treat it as if it were legit. As such, I could not let the coin leave my possession. I sat down on the bench that was in front of the lockers and began to run different scenarios through my mind. It took about a half a minute, but I came up with a plan that appeared to be pretty sound. While the yukata did not have any pockets, I did have a small string pouch that I had received when I paid the entrance fee. Oedo Onsen Monogatari had a membership program where you paid 250 yen to join and then you would receive 500 yen off the entrance price as well as some other small perks. I was the only one in our group to sign up for it -- even the ever-frugal Rose had been intimated by the form. When I joined, I was given a couple of pamphlets that were tucked into the small string pouch. The material that made up the pouch was rather lightweight, but it appeared to suit my needs. I emptied the pouch and then transferred my wallet, cigarettes, and lighter, into it. Drawing the pouch closed, I tied it to my yukata's obi (belt). I then locked the locker and left the changing room. Even with the internal conflict that I had gone through, I found myself the first one out from the changing rooms. There were a few other men who were also waiting for their significant others to come out from the women's changing room. I was only waiting for a few minutes until my party came out, almost as one. I was smiling until I spotted how Traci was wearing her yukata. I then found myself frowning slightly, cocking my head to the side and raising an eyebrow. "Ha!" Rose exclaimed, seeing my reaction. Turning to my youngest girlfriend, she told her, "You owe me five hundred yen." Rolling her eyes, Traci did not otherwise respond to her friend. Instead, she gave a small pout, turned around, and headed back into the changing room. Marge and a couple of the girls began to chuckle, while Rose explained to me, "I tried to tell her that she was wearing it wrong, but she didn't think it was a big deal, so I made a bet with her that you would notice and say something." "Actually, I didn't anything," I pointed out. "Like hell you didn't," Marge interjected. "We've been around you long enough to read your looks. The look you gave her was, 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'." Marge was pretty close in her assessment, but instead of confirming it with her, I teased, "Oh? What is the look I'm giving you now?" Marge studied me for a few seconds before letting out a mock gasp. "Really, Chad! There are children present! Besides, I wouldn't have any idea where to find a double-headed dildo." "You could bor-" Pollyanna was cut off by a quick elbow from Rose. The giggling that Marge's comment brought was amplified by the two girls' actions. By the time we had settled down, Traci came back out from the changing room. Walking up to Rose, Traci proclaimed, "I don't owe you squat since he didn't say anything." Traci stood dumbfounded as we all began to laugh. Lori was one of the first to recover and filled her sister in on the conversation that she had just missed. After receiving the information, Traci said, "I still don't see what the big deal was with how I was wearing it." I did not want Traci to think that we were picking on her, so I went close to her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. "Love, I pray that I never have to see you dressed like that." When Traci gave me a confused look, I added, "The only time when you put the right over the left is when you dress a corpse for burial." Traci's eyes widened slightly at the realization that there was significance in the way that the yukata was worn, and not just a simple fashion statement. When she began to wear them at home, I would point out that she should wrap the right side of the yukata over the body, then overlap it with the left. After a few times of trying to correct her with the proper etiquette, I had decided to let the matter go, strongly suspecting that she had begun to play with me. Now that we were actually out in public, especially in a country that knew the actual connotation, it seemed that she was more respectful of how she wore it. It was a short walk from the changing rooms to the large main hall and when we entered it, there were a few gasps of surprise. The interior was set up to appear like an Edo-style street with faux storefronts for the numerous shops that were selling sweets and souvenirs, as well as traditional game stalls, pubs, and small eateries. On the side opposite of the bath entrances, there was a significantly sized food court with several different types of restaurants sharing a common eating area. "I don't know about you, but right now, I'm in the mood for a bath. How about meeting back here in, say, an hour?" I suggested. "That sounds good," Jean replied, and Marge nodded in agreement. Rose and Pollyanna wanted to do a quick reconnaissance before heading into the baths, so the rest of us proceeded to the bath entrances. Before we separated into the appropriate genders' baths, I paused to exchange what began as a chaste kiss on the lips with Traci. However, when her tongue sought entrance past my lips, I easily surrendered and granted it entry. I did keep the kiss somewhat brief; public affection being frowned upon aside, the prospect of spouting an erection while being surrounded by numerous naked males was something that I did not want to deal with. Upon entering the males' bath entrance, an attendant handed me a towel and a washcloth. Thanking him, I bypassed the changing area and headed towards the toilets. I found an unoccupied stall and hung my towel and washcloth upon the hook inside the door. After making sure that the door was secured, I quickly untied the pouch from the obi and removed my wallet. I retrieved the troublesome coin and a condom; the latter being somewhat troublesome itself. I had received considerable grief from Traci when she discovered I carried one in my wallet a few months prior. Fortunately, it occurred during the window of time that I had begun sexual relations with Marge but before she was fully on the pill. Using that as an excuse, while I do not think I had been able to fully convince Traci, she did let the matter drop after a week or so. Had Traci paid closer attention, she would had noticed that the condom that I carried in my wallet was different than the ones that we kept in the house -- lubricated with spermicide was the last thing that I wanted my 'utility' condom to have. It went against my eco-conscious nature to toss the condom wrapper into the toilet, but sometimes necessity outweighs social morals. I placed the hundred-yen coin in the condom as I unrolled it. Squeezing the air out from around the coin, I tied a knot in the condom as close as I could to the coin. I had made sure to bring my lighter to burn off the excess, but the smell of burning latex would be rather difficult to mask (perhaps not if I had eaten curry rice the previous evening). I had to settle for using my teeth, since another of my 'utility' items that I kept in my wallet had to remain at home. The razorblade, while easily concealable within the folds of my wallet, would have stuck out like a sore thumb at airport security. The remainder of the condom joined the wrapper in the toilet as I slipped the latex-enclosed coin into my mouth. My time away from the Compound was evident, as a part of me felt foolish for the ridiculous steps that I was taking. If (and it was a mighty large 'if') the coin was a container, then whatever it encompassed was something that could be susceptible to excess moisture. The condom would keep the coin dry while I was able to fully partake of the baths. If worst came to worst, and I had to swallow the coin to avoid discovery, then there was enough time for me to retrieve it before the drop. Acting silly and possibly having to dig through my own excrement was a minuscule price to pay for what I received for the mission. After all, with as much shit as Rose had had to go through, I could go through some of my own. ------- I enjoyed myself fully as I sampled the assortment of baths that the onsen offered -- my favorite being the outside one. Granted, the view from the outside bath was hampered by a bamboo privacy fence; a cool breeze carrying the scent of the ocean outweighed that little inconvenience. While the temperatures did vary depending on the type of bath, none of them were extremely hot. However, the sauna made up for it by being close to the point of scorching. It felt wonderful to sweat out the toxins (notably nicotine) that had built up in my system. Time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, an hour was almost up. Unlike my companions, I was anal when it came to punctuality; being off by a few seconds could make the difference between life and death in my previous life. As I made my way back to the changing area, I garnered a few awkward glances -- a repeated occurrence while I was in my nude state. A boy no older than four actually pointed at me before his father slapped his hand down. It did not surprise me that the little boy had been curious; I was as bald as him in the pubic hair department. I had stopped shaving my pubic hair when I initially came up with the plan to go to Japan. While I was comfortable with being fully shaved, I thought I would be considerate to those who would have to see me naked. The preparation had been thwarted when Traci insisted that I be completely bare for Lori's birthday present -- the oldest Caspar daughter's enjoyment was far more important than the possible embarrassment that I might bring to strangers. One of the reasons why I had prohibited Lori from shaving her pubic mound was because I had thought that there was a very good chance that we would be visiting an onsen and/or sento. As I changed back into the yukata, I faked a cough and palmed the prophylactic-encased coin. I did not have a comb, so after I towel dried my hair, I exchanged the coin with a hair band that I kept in my wallet's pocket -- the task of removing the coin from the condom could wait until I returned to the hotel. Once I was fully dressed and my hair tied back, I left the changing area and returned to the hall, pausing only to drop off the towel and washcloth. Michelle, Traci, and Lori were already where we had agreed to meet, and when I came up to them, I started to take ahold of Traci's hand. A subtle nod from Traci caused me to alter my hand's course, and I ended up holding hands with her sister. Lori did not appear to have noticed Traci's silent communication and was slightly startled, but she quickly relaxed when she saw that Traci had an approving look on her face. Traci was describing her experience with the different types of baths when the girls' mothers joined us, followed shortly by Rose and Pollyanna. Once we had fully assembled, it was agreed upon that food was in order, so we proceeded towards the food court. Once there, we found an empty table large enough to accommodate all of us, and Michelle volunteered to watch over it while we got our food; her mother promised to bring back something that she would enjoy. As the group began to separate, I found myself standing still next to Lori, our hands still holding one another. I felt Lori tense slightly when she realized that I was not releasing my grip nor leading her off to one of the eateries. A few seconds passed by before Lori uncomfortably asked, "What do you want to eat?" I gave her a lecherous grin, which drew a chuckle from her and relaxed her slightly. "Let me rephrase that: Do you have a preference in your cuisine?" "From what I hear, Chad isn't a picky eater," Michelle observed from her seat. The tips of Lori's ears began to turn pink and she started to give the raven-haired girl a retort, but at the last second, she seemed to think better of it and held her tongue. One of my many fears was that Lori would one day become too dependent upon my control or wanting to please me. "Tell you what, I'll have whatever you want to eat." "Mar--" Michelle commented before she realized what she actually was saying and quickly censored herself, her hand speedily covering her mouth as she began to blush feverishly. The incestuous relationship between Lori and Marge was a guarded secret, though like Irene, Michelle seemed to have picked up on it. In fact, I would not be surprised if all of the girls suspected how intimate the relationship was between mother and daughter. Unlike Marge when she had been confronted, Lori was able to adopt a mask of confusion that mirrored mine when we heard Michelle start to say Marge's name. Ignoring Michelle's aborted comment, Lori released my hand and told me, "Okay. I'll go get us some food, and you can keep Michelle company." I started to give her a small pout until she gestured to an ashtray that was on the table. I tried to maintain the look of disappointment at the loss of affection, but failed. I started to remove my lanyard so that Lori could use my badge to pay for the food, but she waved me off, saying, "It's my treat." I sat down across from Michelle as Lori walked away. I looked to Michelle for approval, and when she granted it, I retrieved my cigarettes and lighter. I quickly lit up so that I could have at least one cigarette before anybody returned with their food. When I exhaled my first lungful of smoke, I did so while blowing up and away, mindful of the young girl in front of me. Michelle smiled in appreciation, but she had a slightly troubled look upon her face. I raised an eyebrow, and like Lori had just done, Michelle waved me off. "I forgot to give Mom my badge so she could pay for my food. I guess it isn't that big of a deal since I get my money from her anyway," Michelle explained somewhat disheartened. Taking another drag off the cigarette, I nodded in simulated sympathy. My legend was that I too received money from my parents, instead of having earned it. Granted, collecting a salary starting at one year of age was rather odd, but I figured that it was a small price for the government to pay for robbing the CYA agent's childhood. I had spent a few sleepless nights wondering how I might have turned out if I had not been 'adopted' by the CYA. Any ill will that I would begin to fester inside of me would quickly dissipate when I would remind myself that if my life had taken a different path, then I would most likely never have met Traci. Michelle allowed me to smoke my cigarette in peace while we waited for the others to return. I ended up chain-smoking two cigarettes, not so much for the nicotine, but to cover up the latex aftertaste. Breath mints moved up to the top of my list of items that I needed to acquire. I was snuffing out the second cigarette when Jean returned with food for her and her daughter. While the Caspars had each gone to a different eatery, they returned pretty much in unison. Lori had selected a curried lamb dish for me, and I showed her my approval by giving her a kiss on the temple after she had sat down next to me. Traci, who took the seat on the other side of me, flashed Lori a smile when she saw me being affectionate with her sister. In the past, Traci would sometimes get unreasonably jealous when it came to me and other women -- notably Fran. However, I could not recall a time when Traci ever was seriously envious of her mother's and sister's relationships with me. The food was as wonderful as the company that I ate it with, and it took close to twenty minutes to finish lunch since conversations occurred throughout. By the time that everybody had completed the meal, Marge had talked Jean into getting a massage for her birthday. Traci volunteered my services as a masseur, but I quickly nixed that idea, pointing out that both the onsen and the hotel had people far more talented than I in that department. One of the conditions that Jean placed on getting a massage was that Marge joined her, so the two of them went off to do that while the rest of us explored the main hall. Since Rose and Pollyanna had done a quick recon, they took the role as guides and led Michelle, Lori, Traci, and me around. We paused at a few of the stalls to try our luck at Edo-period games as well as modern ones. Pollyanna wanted to try her hand at kingyo-sukui, goldfish scooping, to Rose's repeated objections. "And just how the hell are we going to take care of them when we return to the hotel?" Rose pointedly asked. "We can use the sink," Pollyanna answered as she held out her badge for the game's operator to scan with a handheld barcode reader. After he did that, he handed Pollyanna a bowl and a plastic loop that was covered with rice paper. Pollyanna then squatted down next to the pool that contained the goldfish, and we watched amazedly as she scooped three goldfish into her bowl before the rice paper broke. The operator offered, in rather broken English, for Pollyanna to trade the goldfishes for a prize. Pollyanna hesitated for a few seconds before taking him up on the offer, and I could not help but think that she had considered keeping the goldfishes simply to spite her girlfriend. In the end, however, Pollyanna seemed to see the logic that traveling with a keychain with a small plush goldfish doll made more sense than lugging around a few actual fish. In addition, she seemed to score a few points with Rose by giving the keychain to her. Much to my chagrin, Traci wanted me to win her something as well. An opportunity arose to do so when we came across the next game stall. The two operators who were running the game were dressed up as shinobi, ninjas, and were handing out shuriken, throwing stars, to the customers. Two hundred yen bought three shuriken, so after I showed one of them my badge to scan, I received the throwing stars. Taking a moment to feel the weight of each one, I scanned the targets they offered. They varied in size and distance, so I concentrated on the smallest one on the back wall. Once I zeroed in on the target, I let the shuriken fly in rapid succession. Two struck dead center, while the third straddled the line between the bull's-eye and the first ring. It was my turn to receive dumbfounded looks when I turned to see the girls' reactions. Perhaps it would have been wiser to hold back, but I was interested in seeing how I would do, since it had been a few years since I had practiced with shuriken. Ninja movies aside, shuriken were ineffective weapons when it came to lethality. One way to make them deadly was to coat them with a toxin beforehand, but then that posed a risk to the wielder. However, throwing knives were a successful weapon to have in one's arsenal, and during my training, I had been able to get in some practice with shuriken. Since the prize that I won was going to Traci, I opted for a cute plush doll from Naruto, a popular anime about ninjas. When I handed her the doll, she smiled and thanked me, but the look in her eyes told me that she was debating asking me something or not. Taking the easy way out, I suggested that we take a look at the souvenirs that they were selling a few stalls away. There was a chorus of agreement, so we headed to the store. Seeing as we were to meet up with Jean and Marge in the footbath area -- one of the few bathing areas that both genders were able to commingle -- we did not spend a terribly long time in the store. Even so, I was slightly surprised at how many items that the girls were able to buy in such a short amount of time. A quick side trip to the lockers in the changing room was necessary for them to stash their purchases (and the prizes for Rose and Traci) before we went to the footbaths. The extremely relaxed pair, Jean and Marge, awaited our arrival, so we joined them, soaking our feet as we exchanged our experiences during the short time we were apart. "So are you going to win a prize for all of your girlfriends?" Jean asked me when the girls (actually, mostly Traci) finished explaining what had gone on. "Gee, I don't know. I mean there's Stacy, Vicky, Jenny, Susan, Salimah," I started to tick off on one hand, but before I could start on the other, Traci leaned forward and splashed some water up at me. Knowing my number one girlfriend as well as I did, I had half-expected her to respond that way, so I was able to dodge a majority of the water. Unfortunately, Traci's actions caught Lori, who was sitting on the other side of me, by surprise, and she ended up catching the brunt of the attack. Marge started to chastise her youngest daughter, but Lori waved her off. "It's okay, Mom. Traci can't help it if she can't act her age, and not her shoe size." I was tempted to point out that if Traci acted her shoe size in Japanese units, then she would actually be older than Lori, but a wiseass comment at that point was unnecessary. Traci was blushing and began apologizing profusely to her sister. Again, Lori brushed it aside. "No worries, Sis. I'll just pay you back, that's all," Lori calmly explained to Traci. Trepidation fell across Traci's face, most likely fueled by the large grin that Lori gave her, as the rest of us began to chuckle at the two girls' antics. ------- When we left the onsen, we decided to split our party up. Marge and Jean were interested in checking out the National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation, which was a short walk from the onsen. I, too, wanted to check out the museum, since they offered a demonstration of ASIMO, a bipedal humanoid robot that was created by Honda. Traci was about to join us when Lori voiced her choice for the museum, too. Traci seemed wary of her sister; a point demonstrated when Marge raised her concern about the four younger girls traveling unescorted. "If you want, I can go with them," Lori told her mom with an evil grin on her face, a very rare sight indeed. "No, no!" Traci quickly protested, "We'll be fine. We will go straight to that big thing that Rose wants to see, and then to the Ferris wheel." Marge was successful in keeping a straight face while we agreed to gather at Daiba Station in two hours. It was the stop that was closest to Fuji Television, and we would go on the tour of the station then. We watched as the girls began walking back to the Telecom Center Station; as soon as they were safely out of earshot, Marge began to laugh. "Damn, you are just evil," Marge told Lori. "Watashi?" Lori asked in mock innocence. We began walking towards the museum, my hand finding Marge's along the way, and she filled Jean and me in. "I think I've told you two that John was a pushover when it came to punishing the kids -- not that Lori needed much discipline," Marge explained. "Says you," Lori said coyly, invoking laughter from the three of us. "Anyway," Marge continued after we had stopped laughing, "there were times that Traci could be outright bratty--" "No!" This time, it was me who interjected. Jean and Lori chuckled, but Marge grew slightly perturbed. "Hey! If you don't want to hear this, fine by me." It was difficult to tell if Marge was seriously upset, or just putting on an act; I suspected the latter since she did not grip my hand any tighter. We walked in silence for a few meters before Marge continued. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, there were times that Traci could be quite a handful." Marge paused and shot me a cold stare, almost daring me to make a flippant remark. Discretion being the better part of valor, I held my tongue, so Marge continued on. "I believe it was just after Lori started sixth grade, she would stop me from punishing Traci whenever Traci wronged her. Lori would say that she would pay back Traci, though no more than she deserved. Well, I was wary at first, but I decided to give Lori a chance, and sure enough, whatever she would do seemed to work as Traci would never come crying to me about it. Actually, from what I could gather, I think four times out of five, Lori wouldn't do anything. Just the threat of her 'getting even' would cause Traci to toe the line." Lori let out a small snort and corrected her mother. "More like nine out of ten times I would let it slide. The trick was to constantly remind her that payback was due." "Remind? I think 'torment' is a more accurate word. You know, it was long after you started having a hand in disciplining her that she started coming to your dad and me, begging us to punish her instead." "Oh? I thought I had made it clear with her that what went on between the two of us, stayed with the two of us." "Traci never complained about the punishments themselves, just the fact that you would constantly hold it over her head. I think she realized that she never got more than she deserved. It was waiting for the other shoe to drop that would drive her to wit's end. You do know, I think you went a tad overboard a couple years ago." Lori seemed to instantly know what her mother was alluding to and bristled slightly. There was a slight edge to her voice when she responded. "Traci knew damn well that Dad gave me that Barbie doll when I was ten and how much it meant to me. If she thought it looked better with shorter hair, then it was only fitting that she should have a matching hairstyle." We were approximately fifteen meters from the museum entrance when Lori's revelation caused Jean to stop dead in her tracks. We stopped and saw that she was staring at Lori with openmouthed disbelief. After a few seconds, she exclaimed, "Oh my God! You... I... Tha--" Jean sputtered a few more incoherent syllables before stopping herself. After taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she composed herself and tried again. "That explains a lot." While I had a strong idea of what might have transpired, I kept a mask of confusion upon my face. Jean noticed my look and decided to enlighten me. "When Michelle first invited Traci over to our house, her braided hair was practically down to the small of her back. I had even commented on how lovely it was, and she had practically beamed with pride over it. The next time I saw her, though, her hair barely covered her neck. When I asked her about it, she just shrugged and said that it had been time for a change, that it had been getting too troublesome to take care of. I knew there was something more to it, but I could never find out what." "Don't kick yourself too much, Jean," Marge said with a sigh. "Even I couldn't get to the bottom of it, and I'm their mother. I knew that Lori had cut Traci's hair as retribution for something, but neither one would tell me why. I did figure out that it must have had occurred while Traci had been sleeping, because for a month afterwards, she insisted on sleeping with me." "So desu ne," I said slowly. "That goes a long way towards explaining Traci's particular slumber habits. Here I thought that she was just lonely, when in fact it is because she was psychologically scarred." While Lori rolled her eyes at my bogus diagnosis, Marge asked her eldest daughter, "Let me get this straight. The reason why you cut your sister's hair was over some silly doll?" Instead of answering immediately, Lori turned and began walking towards the entrance. We hurried after her, and when we drew alongside her again, she patiently pointed out, "It was not a silly doll, but something Dad had given to me." I was still holding Marge's hand, so I felt her grip tighten when she realized her oversight. While it might have seemed that Lori had gone a bit far with her retaliation, the fact that it had been a gift from her father who had died shortly afterwards did explain a lot. While not entirely excusable, it could easily be overlooked for a girl who had to mature into a responsible young woman quickly. When we entered the museum, Lori was first to the ticket vending machine. She had inserted a thousand-yen note and selected two admission tickets when the birthday girl stopped her. "Oh no you don't! Not only did you pay for my entrance to the hot spring, but you also paid for the charges I accrued in there -- including Michelle's meal! I can pay my own way, thank you very much." Jean stared at Lori until the eighteen-year-old let out a sigh of resignation. Then, in mock fear, Jean quickly brought her hands to the top of her head and added, "That is, unless you're going to scalp me when I'm sleeping." While Lori rolled her eyes, Marge and I were struck with uncontrollable laughter. Jean's joke was not really that funny, but after the reaction everyone had to the reminder of John's death, it seemed to transform it into an absolute gem. Life was meant to be lived -- and laughed at. ------- Chapter 48 "La la la, he he hee." Since it was a Sunday, we decided to risk going back to the hotel during rush hour. While the train cars were not packed like sardine cans, all of the seats were occupied, and it was slightly cramped. The situation changed when the train pulled into Tokyo Station and a majority of the riders in the car got off. Traci, Michelle, Pollyanna and some of the other standing riders scrambled to claim the newly vacant seats before those waiting on the platform could board. Around a dozen people came on to replenish the three dozen that exited, so even those of us who remained standing felt the additional breathing room. When they announced that the next stop would be Akihabara, I felt the urge to abandon my friends and jump off the train when it arrived. The allure of the electronics and untold anime bounty was tempting enough to actually make me debate how much hot water I would be in with everybody if I did that. Rose, who had migrated from standing in the aisle to sitting upon her girlfriend's lap during the train ride, began to grin when she saw the turmoil I was going through. I was fairly certain that she would not have a problem with me making a solo side-trek, but the six other ladies might. Rose chuckled when I let out an exaggerated sigh of resignation, a sign that I was going to stay put. However, when the train did pull in to Akihabara, I tilted my head towards the train's doors, signaling Rose that she and I should jump off. Rose pretended she was going to stand up, only to find Pollyanna's arms tighten around her waist. While not fully understanding the silent conversation that Rose and I had been having, Pollyanna seemed to have gathered the gist of it, and kept a firm hold on her girlfriend. The look of confusion on Rose's face was priceless, and I began to laugh, drawing confused looks from my friends and other travelers. The role of pack mule had once again befallen me, and I had been amazed at the amount of purchases that the four girls had made during the short period we had been separated from them. I had thought that the limited amount of cash that they had on hand would have had prevented them from buying so much, but Rose confessed that Traci and Michelle had browbeaten her into using the credit card that I had gotten her. "I swear, Chad," Rose rapidly told me after she had revealed using the credit card, "I'm keeping track of everything, and I'll make sure that they will pay me back." I had reassured Rose that I had no problems with her using the credit card anyway she felt fit, but Marge and Jean had a different feeling towards their daughters' actions. Pollyanna, who had not been named in the coercion, had looked guilty when Marge and Jean chastised Traci and Michelle, so I had suspected that her role in the matter had been omitted by her girlfriend. Akiba, as the locals called it, was only a twenty-minute ride from Ikebukuro, and we were back in our rooms just over a half an hour later. Besides dropping off their spoils, the ladies wanted to freshen up before heading back out for dinner. Jean had insisted that she would be paying and had implied that fast food was not on the menu, so a change of outfits was in order. Since I had packed lightly and had not acquired any additional clothing yet, I donned my khakis and polo shirt, the only shirt besides the printed tee shirts that I had brought. As I was smoking my second cigarette since returning to the room, Traci was ruffling through one of the shopping bags. "Darn it! I forgot which one was for Mrs. Weller," Traci muttered as began to stack wrapped parcels onto the bed. Japanese retailers had a habit of wrapping up purchases as if everything that a person bought was a gift, unless instructed otherwise. It appeared that Traci had not given such instructions and was now facing a mild dilemma. She stared at the wrapped packages for close to a minute before letting out a triumphant cry of victory. Snatching up a small box, Traci had a large grin, proud that she had been able to deduce which was Jean's gift without having to resort to unwrapping everything. I snuffed out what little remained of my cigarette and rose to my feet. Traci hurried to gather her purse, assuming that we were on our way directly to the Wellers' room. I made a slight detour to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth; the aftertaste of the condom was long gone thanks to lunch and numerous cigarettes. Traci watched me with a bemused look on her face, so one of the first things that I did after I finished was to give her a long kiss. "I love you," I told softly. "If you lov—la-la-la-la," Traci replied; her sudden babbling caused me to recoil slightly in confusion. After a few seconds, I began giggling at the realization of Traci's sudden non sequitur. Despite it being months since our conversation regarding conditions on love, Traci seemed to have taken it to heart and censored herself. If it was even possible, I felt my love for her grow even more and expressed it with another kiss. "Mmmm," Traci muttered after we broke our second kiss, "You think we have enough time for a quickie?" Despite the glimmer in her eyes that told me that she was only joking, I had to bat her hands away from undoing my belt. "The next time that I'm inside of you, I want us to be making slow romantic love," I told her, emphasizing the last three words with my best Isaac Hayes impression. My attempt at being suave failed miserably, as it became Traci's turn to laugh at me. "Slow romantic love," Traci tried her best to mimic me in a deep voice between her fits of laughter. "Oh, that's just too funny. I wonder if the girls in the squad would be up by now," Traci added as she reached for the cell phone in her purse. She actually flipped it open before adding the coup de grâce: "Psych!" she said, punctuating it with a wink before returning her phone to the purse, turning, and going out the door. It took me a small moment to recover from plunging from the peak of love to the valley of utter embarrassment, but I easily caught up with Traci by the time she reached the Wellers' room. Their door was propped ajar, the security latch used to prevent the door from closing. Still, I gave the door a couple of courtesy raps and announced ourselves as we stepped inside. "Everyone decent?" I asked. "Yeah, unfortunately," Jean's voice replied. When Traci and I fully entered the room, we found Rose and Pollyanna sitting at the small table with Jean, while Michelle sat on the bed nearest them. They had all changed into more formal eveningwear, and I noted (with ever the slightest of disappointments) that Jean was wearing something more conservative than her previous outfit. Then again, a tube top and a miniskirt would have covered more skin than her last dress. So, have you decided what we're going to be eating tonight?" I asked Jean. A wide grin erupted across Jean's face, and I quickly scrambled to rephrase my inquiry. Fortunately, Marge and Lori entered the room at that moment and the double-entendre was brushed aside by Michelle. "Mom hasn't decided upon a choice of cuisine, so we thought we'd go to Tobu and check out their restaurants." Like virtually all of the department stores in Japan, Tobu had their top floors devoted to different restaurants. It sounded like a good plan to all of us, so we left the room and headed to the elevators after everybody had gathered up their purses and coats. The elevator car that arrived for us was empty; because of this, after we had boarded, Traci once again decided to be frisky. Regrettably, the target of her affection was not her redheaded friend, as it had been the last time we had all rode down together. I had to quickly nip it in the bud, before it got out of hand—figuratively and literally. "Love, please don't," I told her softly, as I pulled her hand away from my crotch. Traci, who was standing in front of me, looked back and gave me a small pout. My girlfriend's actions were not lost upon the other women, and there were a few sets of eyeballs rolling. Rose whispered something into her lover's ear, which caused Pollyanna to giggle. Since Rose had unpacked my clothes, I had a strong suspicion of the contents of Rose's surreptitious communiqué. Underwear was added to the mental list of items that I needed to acquire, lest there be a repeat of the lunchtime incident when Traci last aroused me while I was wearing khakis sans shorts. I garnered a few looks of surprise from my companions when I did not join Jean in immediately lighting up upon stepping outside. Despite it being a short distance from the hotel to the department store, it did seem out of character for me not to whip out a cancer stick, so an explanation seemed to be in order. "Methought ta get a bit o' snogging in wit' me gabby bird afore me next fag." Even using a thick Cockney accent, they all appeared to understand the words (if not the meanings) of what I had said, and practically stopped dead in their tracks. While I received mostly blank stares from the younger ones, Marge and Jean began to crack up. "Jesus, Chad," Marge admonished me between chuckles, "I know now isn't the best of times to be an American abroad, especially with our current leader, but we should be safe in Japan." Jean added, "How aboot being Canadian? That woold be much easier, eh?" I agreed wholeheartedly with Marge's assessment about Japan being one of the few places left in the world where it was safe to be an American. I had chosen to say what I did in part to explain why I was holding off on having a cigarette, but mostly to provide some comic entertainment. After all, why should Traci be the only one to have some humor at my expense? ------- The third restaurant that we came across seemed to entice Jean the most, but nonetheless, we had to check them all out before settling upon that one. Besides menus, most of the establishments had plastic models of the dishes they offered and it became my task to memorize everybody's order, even after I translated the names for them. Rose and Michelle did attempt to tell the waitress what they wanted, but she had a hard time understanding the two girls, so I had to repeat their requests. After we had finished the wonderful main course, a couple of the girls opted for dessert. Rose was amazed with the tempura ice cream that she ordered. Having deep-fried, batter-dipped vegetables in the past, it had never occurred to her that she could do that to ice cream as well. Since we were sitting in the smoking section, Jean lit up after she had finished eating. Marge watched longingly as Jean enjoyed the cigarette -- something that was not lost upon Traci. "Jesus Christ! You didn't have a problem smoking in my room this morning. I don't know why you're stopping yourself now," Traci admonished her mother. The revelation that Traci might have been privy to the conversation that Marge and I had had was not lost upon the two of us, but Marge seemed to brush it aside as Traci, in effect, gave her permission to smoke. Still, there was a sardonic edge in her voice when she told her youngest daughter, "Yes, Mother." Shifting her attention towards me, the look Traci gave me seemed to dare me not to have a cigarette; my earlier remark regarding 'snogging' ignored. Using a stoic mask, I informed her, "I think I'll hold off until I've earned a dozen tonight." Snorting, Traci replied, "Yeah, right! I bet you can't even get three out of me." Letting my façade drop, I grinned and asked, "Is that a challenge?" Traci's grin matched mine, nodded, and added, "Remember, you promised SRL." I was puzzled for a moment and tried to figure out what Signal Return Loss had to do with anything. Apparently, I was not the only one confused by Traci's reference because Michelle asked Traci, "SRL?" "Slow romantic love," Traci enlightened, using the same deep tone that she had used the last time. Once everybody had finished laughing at my expense, Traci, Rose, and Pollyanna used a form of silent communication that all young teenage girls seem to possess and in just about perfect unison, bestowed their presents upon Jean. "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Weller!" the three of them said as they brought their wrapped gifts into sight. Blushing slightly, Jean protested with a gentle smile, "Really, now. I told you all that you didn't need to get me anything." Pollyanna appeared to be their spokesperson, telling Jean, "Yes, we didn't need to get you anything, but we wanted to." Jean thanked them, and after checking with them to make sure it was okay to open the gifts at the restaurant, she began to do so. The gifts that Rose and Pollyanna gave her were well received, but a frown crossed her face after she opened Traci's. "What's wrong?" Traci asked in alarm. "Oh, nothing. I guess I was kind of hoping that you were going to give me the same gift that you gave your sister on her birthday." "MOM!" Michelle scolded her mother. She then began to blush; a combination of embarrassment from what her mother had said and the volume at which she had used to reply. As the rest of the girls began to giggle, Traci held out her hand and told Jean, "Okay. I'll let you exchange your gift, but just a word of warning. He may be a tad worn out after he gets done with me, so you may not get the full service." "NO!" Michelle and I protested in sync with one another. Not even hesitating for a beat, Jean teasingly asked, "'No' as in you will be able to give me the 'full service', or 'no' meaning that you don't want to fuck an ugly old woman?" There were more than a few patrons glancing over at our table. The actual dialogue of the conversation may have been lost upon them, but the humorous reactions were not. I think it was the safety of being surrounded by people who did not understand what she was saying that allowed Jean to say what she did. There was also the three bottles of sake that the two older women had consumed during the course of dinner that may have contributed to it as well. Since I had reassured Jean that she was hot and sexy earlier that day, I figured it was wise to ignore the question, lest I open myself up for attack and further ridicule. Instead, Michelle and I exchanged apologetic looks with one another; self-conscious by the actions of those whom we loved. It was Lori who provided the lifeline by suggesting that we move it along, since the restaurant was beginning to get busier. We decided to explore what Tobu had to offer and quickly discovered it was primarily geared towards the high-end, a point driven home when we paused at the travel section. I was examining one of the suitcases when Marge noticed the price and inhaled sharply. "Damn, Chad. Kinda makes you wish you just brought a couple of empty bags from home," Marge joked. Shaking my head, I told her solemnly, "That wouldn't have worked. Had I tried that, they would have ended up filled with Traci's shoes and other clothes that she couldn't 'live without'." "Hey!" Traci, Rose, and Pollyanna were only a few meters away from me and had easily overhead the conversation. As Traci proceeded to repeatedly call me baka, Rose observed, "You think two suitcases will be enough?" "Not positive. Dave, Bill, and a few others from the club want some Gundam models that they can't get in the States, so that's gonna take up quite a bit of real estate. I'll most likely have to rely on any free space in you girls' bags." Nodding, Rose replied, "I thought that might be the case. I was planning to buy a second suitcase too, but I didn't think it would be this much..." Spending thirty to fifty thousand yen on a suitcase made sense for a person who really wanted to protect the contents—not schlepping anime paraphernalia. I had been struggling internally to justify buying the suitcases; getting it out of the way and the short distance back to the hotel were strong arguments. However, Rose's disclosure that she was also planning to buy a suitcase made me decide to hold off on buying them. "We've got plenty of time to find cheaper alternatives," I told Rose. When she gave me an apologetic smile, I waved her off, adding, "Hey, the money that I save on bags can go towards my girlfriend's birthday present." Perking up, Traci observed, "I'm sure that they sell Hefty trash bags in Japan. You can always use those." "But Chad," Lori pointed out, "This trip was supposed to count towards gifts for the entire year." Letting out a mock gasp, I raised my left hand to my cheek and exclaimed softly, "Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that." While Traci's friends chuckled at my antics, my girlfriend turned to her sister and matter-of-factly told her, "You know? I hate you." Lori shrugged Traci's comment off. It was obvious that Traci knew that we were just teasing her. However, to add insult to injury, Jean warned, "Be careful now. You don't want to end up with another haircut." While the reference was lost among her friends, Traci was visibly shaken by Jean's comment. Stuttering, she disbelievingly asked Lori, "Y-y-y-ou told her?" Again, Lori merely shrugged and replied, "I mentioned it this afternoon. Chad suspects that I'm the reason why you can't sleep alone." Traci gave a worried glance at her mother, who told her, "I'm not going to get involved with what goes on between the two of you. We have a system, and it seems to be working. If anything, perhaps Lori should do something to cure you of your bratty behavior." Traci winced slightly and looked away. While she was well aware that her actions were occasionally juvenile, it was another thing to actually be called on it, especially by her own mother. Traci's friends pestered her with questions about what the heck we were talking about, but she kept tightlipped. As we left the travel section, I made my way to be by her side. Once again, I was impressed with the way that Traci was able to communicate nonverbally with her friends. Had I known better, I would have suspected telepathy, as it only required a look for her to tell her friends that she wanted to talk to me privately. The girls quickened their pace to catch up with Marge, Jean, and Lori, while we slowed ours down. Once she felt secure that the others could not overhear her, she began to speak. "Chad, I swear that I didn't know that those dolls were from Dad," Traci confessed. Our eyes met, and I kept silent. After a few seconds pause, there was a tremble in her voice when she added, "At least, I don't think I knew that." Traci was the first to break eye contact, and she instead focused on the path that we were walking. The department store was fairly crowded, and it made sense to focus on avoiding collisions with other shoppers. I also knew Traci well enough to notice her struggle to fight back her tears. I tried to comfort her the best way that I could; my arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer to my side. "It seems to me that Lori has forgiven you on that matter a long time ago. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that memory is her most favorite, but she's your sister and she loves you." Traci glanced at me and gave a weak smile. It seemed that she needed a little more cheering up, so I decided to add some additional information. I revealed, "You know, your sister actually did you a favor. I've always been attracted to girls with short hair. If your hair had been any longer when I first met you, I doubt that I would have even let you in the house." "Really?" Traci asked in surprise. "You prefer girls with shorter hair?" I clarified, "I prefer girls with whatever hairstyle they feel comfortable with. It's just that if I see a girl with short hair, it tells me that they spend less time fussing with it and more time doing other stuff." "So bald..." "Übersexy." Knowing my girlfriend as I did, I knew that qualification of my statement was in order. "Now, it has to be a look that they want and not something they are doing just to make somebody else happy. There's nothing worst than trying to conform to please others." Traci let out a snort and teased, "You just say that so you can keep smoking and leaving the toilet seat up." I shrugged and, while not entirely convinced that I may wake up one day to discover a hairless Traci, it appeared that she was in a better mood. We gradually increased our pace to catch up with the others until Traci muttered, "I wish I wasn't so bratty." Not wanting to cause an obstruction in the flow of foot traffic, I guided Traci aside to the stationery section. Once there, I turned to face her directly; our noses a mere twenty centimeters apart. When our eyes locked and I had her full attention, I told her emphatically, "I've told this to you before, but I guess I have to repeat myself. You are not a brat. For an almost-fifteen-year-old, you are very mature in most regards. Are there times when you act maybe a little selfish? Sure, but we're all guilty of that. The thing is, when you do something that hurts others and you find out about it, you're remorseful and you don't do it again. A 'brat' wouldn't give a damn about others." "Okay," Traci said with a sigh, "I wish I was more like Lori then." "A bisexual with BDSM issues?" Traci attempted to give me a stern look while her face contorted from fighting back her laughter. It took close to ten seconds for her to control herself and when she did, she clarified, "No, mature." I knew that this was going to be an ongoing conversation that would come up in the future -- insecurity being one of Traci's more deep-seated traits -- so I let an easy opportunity for a pun slide. "I love you for you, just as I love Lori for being Lori and your mom for being who she is. Just be true to yourself, and I'll love you forever." Traci was the one to initiate a quick kiss on the lips and afterwards told me, "As you wish." "There you two are," Michelle said as she came upon us. "Mrs. Caspar sent me back to find you." "Gomen nasai," I apologized to Michelle in Japanese. The three of us hurried up to the main group, and we proceeded through the rest of the department store as a pack. Since it has already been a long day, it was primarily a reconnaissance mission, since we had ample opportunity to return in the future. I was, however, able to pick up a couple pairs of briefs. Despite Traci's assurances that she would 'behave' while I was wearing khakis, she was not the one that I was worried about; there was an all too familiar glimmer in Marge's eyes. Fortunately, we were working our way down the store via escalators and I did not need to don the undergarments right then and there. None of us left the store empty-handed, all of the ladies finding something that caught their fancy. When we had passed the Gucci section, there had been a handbag that had caught Traci's fancy, but it had only taken a glance from Marge to persuade her to move along. Silent communication was not limited to Traci's peers. "Do you mind if I steal your boyfriend for a moment? There's something that I need to discuss with him," Marge explained to Traci. Ever since the revelation that Lori had informed Marge about the haircut incident, Traci and I had been in constant contact with one another, either holding hands or having my arm draped around her shoulders. Even when I had purchased the underwear, Traci had kept a hand on my elbow. Thus, it was slightly surprising that Traci did not so much as bat an eyelash as she released her hold on me and turned me over to her mother. Marge and I ended up taking a stroll while the rest of the ladies headed back to the hotel, Lori and Traci offering to take our purchases back to the rooms. Since they had relieved us of our burdens, we were able to wrap our arms around one another's waists. We had only walked a few meters away from the department store when Marge confided to me, "I wanted to let you know that I've decided to sleep with Jean tonight." "Thanks for the 411," I replied, borrowing one of Traci's frequently used phrases. Marge noticed me observing her out of the corner of my eye and answered my unasked question. "Don't worry, it isn't the liquor speaking. I pretty much made up my mind before dinner tonight, and I'm not drunk. I do have a slight buzz, but it'll take a helluva lot more booze for me to have sex with somebody that I didn't want to." Marge tried to retrieve her cigarettes without relinquishing her hold on me, to little success. I stopped her and used my free hand to retrieve my cigarette case and lighter. When I offered her the cigarettes, she retrieved two of them, along with the lighter, and lit them both up. After a millisecond pause, I accepted one of the cigarettes and began to smoke it, safe with the knowledge that I would be immediately brushing my teeth upon returning to the hotel room. Unlike the previous night's excursion, I ended up walking a different route with Marge than I had with Michelle. While we remained in the business district, the side streets that we strolled along were slightly seedy; Hostess Bars and Love Hotels were scattered among more adult-themed stores. Had I been alone, I was certain that I would have been accosted by one of the men in suits that tried to lure customers into their drinking establishments. English was not a barrier for them, as Marge and I witnessed one going so far as to wrap his arm around an apparent tourist's shoulder and try to guide him into the bar; the English he used appeared flawless. Then again, he could have perhaps memorized a few key phrases to entice foreigners. While Marge knew about the concept of Hostess Bars (where the money was spent not on the overpriced drinks, but the company that came with it), she did not know about Love Hotels. She was intrigued when I explained that the rooms could be rented by the hour or for the entire night. "Maybe we should check it out," Marge suggested. "Not tonight," I replied. "I have to save myself for some 'SRL', and you already have a full plate." "Too bad. I was thinking I could give Jean a surprise when she goes down on me." Marge felt the uncomfortable shudder that went through me and asked, "What caused that? Me being with Jean, or the idea of her tasting your cum?" "The latter," I confessed. "You kind of had the same reaction at dinner tonight when Traci and Jean were joking with each other. I guess you should know that I've told her about us." Marge was slightly surprised when she saw me nodding and asked, "You knew?" "I suspected," was my reply. "Lori had made a comment in front of Jean earlier today, and she is usually well-guarded when it comes to stuff like that." This time, it was Marge's turn to nod. "I guess it should come as no surprise that Irene was dead-on. Not only did Jean suspect that I was having sex with you, she was able to guess down to the week when we started. Now, I did throw her for a loop when I told her—" "—about your 'relationship' with Slave," I finished for her. "Yeah... Oh!" Marge replied, pinching my side when she comprehended the emphasis I had made. "Here I am, baring my soul and you have to make a stupid pun!" I could tell Marge was fighting back a smile, but I apologized nevertheless. She accepted it with a nod and continued on. "Anyhow, I checked with Lori before saying anything to Jean, and she thought that it would be okay. I guess I should have run it by you, as well." "No, that's fine," I protested mildly. "After all, if you think about it, I was the first to disclose to an outsider about us. Granted, Erin did have to put a few things together, but I should have watched my words more carefully." "You didn't know that you would see her outside the porn shop," Marge replied, trying to defend my actions. "Adult bookstore," I corrected her. I was tempted to point out that my first encounter with Erin had been outside her workplace; she had come out to the parking lot so that I could sign a credit card receipt. One thing that I was not prepared to inform Marge, though, was that I had done a (primitive) background check on Erin before I had confirmed her suspicions. "Fine, adult bookstore. Still... wait a second. You've shifted the subject. I was going to ask you why you're uncomfortable about Jean, and yet we're talking Erin now. I'm sure that you know that she fancies you." "Erin?" Again, I received a pinch for my smartass remark. I knew that the jig was up and I needed to be serious with Marge, but I still had a little ammo left. "What is it with you Caspar women? Why can't I just have a monogamous relationship with the three women that I love?" Using a line similar to the one that I had used in the morning, Marge grinningly replied, "Because you're a guy." Taking a drag on my cigarette, I exhaled a lungful of smoke with my sigh. "I would be lying if I said that I didn't find Jean attractive, but she's a married woman. I know that you've told me that she and Scott have an open relationship, but it still worries me. Also, she is the mother of one of my friends, and I don't know what kind of strain that would put on Michelle and me. The teasing and flirting has been all fun and games, but if you think about it, that is how you and I started off." "You do bring up a good point about Michelle. Right now, Jean is talking to her daughter about me spending the night with her." Since the conversation had shifted gears to a more somber one, I let slide the opportunity to inquire about clarification for if it was Jean or Michelle that Marge was spending the night with. Instead, I asked, "And if Michelle has a problem with it?" "Then the whole point's moot. A small part of me actually hopes that Michelle will object to it. You see, Jean has been a good friend these past couple of years that I've known her, and I see where you're coming from about sex messing up a friendship. I don't know if the idea of me having sex with a woman that I'm not related to is putting blinders on me and I'm losing sight of the big picture." "Sounds to me that you've given it plenty of thought and know what you're getting into. If you're still looking for an out, you could always run it by Traci, and she might object." Shaking her head, Marge pointed out, "She knows what's up. The fact that she knew that I had been smoking with you this morning tells us that she overhead our conversation." "Yes, but it wouldn't hurt to run it by her, anyway. Even if she agrees to it, at least she'll feel happy that you've included her in the decision-making process." Marge was silent for a few seconds before she began to nod in agreement. "I swear, there are times when you simply amaze me, and I have to remind myself that you're just sixteen. Hell, the fact that you came over and, while asking for permission to date Traci, you wanted help with getting tested for STDs, spoke volumes. Then again, knowing you now, I'd wager that those test results were more for my benefit than yours." Instead of confirming Marge's hunch was indeed correct, I queried, "Speaking of STDs?" "Jean's good," Marge replied, letting the change of conversation stand. "She and I had a chance to talk in private at the hot springs. I'll still practice safe sex, but I'll also quarantine myself from you and Slave until we get back home and I've tested myself." "So desu ne. That explains why you wanted to drag me into a Love Hotel. After tonight, it's going to be a while until we can 'get it on'." "Oh pleeease," Marge said, rolling her head as she elongated her second word. "You think you're anything special that a vibrator and a couple of D batteries can't replace? At least a vibrator doesn't shoot cum into my eyes." In mock protest, I pointed out, "Hey! You're the one who begged me for the facial and for Slave to lick it up." The two of us began to chuckle, and as the entrance to the hotel came into view, we unlinked from one another. While it had been nice to be out in public as a couple, we both knew that it would be wise not to appear so within the hotel itself. After all, we had to at least put on a show of normalcy. ------- "Damn... it! You... promised me... some SLR!" Traci moaned in protest. For the past twenty minutes, I had been feasting upon my love's succulent pussy. During the last five, it appeared that Traci had been fighting back an orgasm; attempting to keep true to her word at supper. I continued my assault with my tongue until Traci's hands shifted from clenching the sheets to the top of my head; her effort to dislodge me from her pussy was meager, but effective. Traci opened her eyes when she felt me shift my position and watched as I maneuvered my cock to her opening. Despite being incredibly wet from her own secretions, I spit what little saliva I had left into my right palm and hastily coated my cock with it. Since I had been lying on my stomach while eating her out, any precum that I had produced had been absorbed into the sheets. Once my cockhead was engulfed by her pussy, I leaned forward and fully entered her with one stroke, my hands on both sides of her, supporting my weight. As was typically the case when we made love, our eyes were locked with one another. Our lovemaking was not so much the pleasure that was generated in our loins, but the link of our souls that made it special. The look of absolute trust that was in her pearlescent orbs caused a slight twinge in my heart. To the best of my knowledge, Traci had never lied to me, at least when it came to important matters. I could only hope that my eyes mirrored hers as I suppressed the dark emotions that my deceitful past evoked. Given that Traci had insisted on 'Slow Romantic Love', I kept my pelvic thrusts to an excruciatingly slow pace, resisting Traci's urgings from her hands, which had found their way to my buttocks. Not even five minutes had elapsed since I had entered her before I could tell that she was on the verge of an orgasm. Her breathing shifted from her nostrils to her parted lips; so close that my face was awash with her warm breath. My cock was the first to feel the spasms that rippled throughout Traci's body as she came. Her eyes bulged and remained locked with mine for a few seconds, before she closed them and concentrated on the waves of pleasure that she was experiencing. I stopped resisting her and allowed her to control my movements, verbally and physically, though both were somewhat haltingly. Each time it appeared that her orgasm was tapering off, it only took a few more strokes for her to reach a new crescendo. I lost all sense of time, as Traci's orgasm seemed to last an eternity. I did know something was wrong when the look on Traci's face changed. "Stop- stop- stop," she begged, which I immediately did. My cock was fully impaled into her and it appeared to cause her discomfort because she next instructed me to, "Pull out, pull out." Once I was dislodged from her body, I lay on my side next to her. I used my left hand to prop my head up as my right began to brush back some of the hair that had fallen into Traci's sweat-drenched face. Her breath was labored, and it took close to a minute for her to regain control of it. As soon as she did, she opened her eyes and looked up at me. "I'm sorry," Traci apologized in a sorrowful voice. "I just got really sensitive all of the sudden." I leaned forward and gave her temple a kiss. I then stroked her hair for a few seconds before asking, "One?" It took her a moment to comprehend what I was asking, and when she did, she tried to suppress her laughter, which turned out to be a mistake. Her grin was quickly replaced with a frown as she winced in discomfort. "Damn! Don't make me laugh." "Sorry, Love," I told her before I gave her another kiss, this time on her cheek. I think I was making Traci uncomfortable as I watched her recover from what she experienced. It was not long before Traci commanded me, "Go and smoke the cigarette you've earned." The fact that she even accented the point by weakly lifting her right forearm and batted me away signaled that I should do as I was told. After I got out of bed, I turned and looked down at her, admiring her body as she laid there spread-eagle. Noticing my gaze, she turned her head away, again indicating her level of discomfort to me. I made my way over to the chair and was thankful that the towel was still draped over it. While I had not confirmed it, I was close to certain that Traci had actually drawn blood; her fingernails had dug quite deep into my buttocks during her orgasm I heard Traci mumble something as I took my first inhale and had to ask her to repeat herself. "If cigarettes don't count when you are overseas, does that mean you can still earn them?" "Yes," I replied confidently. "Paragraph 3, Subsection B, Line 2: 'Any and all qualified orgasms will count towards cigarettes, no matter the locale.' It comes shortly after the entry covering multiple orgasms: 'The number of orgasms shall be counted by the person receiving them, unless contrary to a third eyewitness. In such an event, the average between the two will be used, rounding up.'" As Traci began to chuckle at my joke (our 'contract' had always remained verbal and never did pen come to paper), I remembered that she did not want to laugh and regretted it. Fortunately, it appeared that she had recovered enough, as it seemed to not cause her any pain. A few moments later, she sat up and got to her feet. Her knees buckled slightly, causing me to sit up in alarm, but she waved me off. "Shit! Now I know what it means to be 'fucked so hard that I can't even walk straight.'" As Traci gingerly made her way from the bed, I thought that she was headed to the bathroom and was surprised when she made her way towards me. I was further shocked when, instead of joining me in the other chair, she sank to her knees between my legs. "I need to finish what I started," Traci said as she wrapped her right hand around my semi-erect cock. Before she lowered her mouth onto my manhood, I placed my left hand on her forehead and stopped her. "You don't need to do this." "Bullshit," she told me frankly. "Unlike Mom and Lori, what just happened to me doesn't happen often, and you deserve a little reward. Just smoke your cigarette while I give you a blowjob. Mom may have given you head while you smoked your hookah, but you haven't gotten one while having a cigarette, right?" My head (the one on my shoulders) must have appeared like a Bobblehead doll as Traci's question caused me to shake it before nodding. Instead of trying to clarify my answer, I removed my hand and let Traci proceed with her reward. As Traci's mouth engulfed my head (the one on my cock), I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her tongue as it swirled around me. Like how we started off our lovemaking session, Traci's mouth was ever so slow in its movements. As I smoked my cigarette, I began to muse over something that Traci had mentioned. I had a theory as to why multiple orgasms were elusive to Traci, but not her mother and sister. Unlike the two of them, Traci seemed to prefer the instant gratification that sex provided, whereas Marge and Lori were prone to prolonging the experience. With Marge, it was something that she most likely learned with her many years, but with Lori, it was something that she probably discovered as Slave; delaying orgasms was a common instruction with her. The heat from the cigarette signaled me that it was nearly out, and I opened my eyes so I could snuff it out. I had been able to successfully ash my cigarette into the ashtray while my eyes had been closed, but I wanted to be certain when I extinguished it. My left hand had found its way to the top of Traci's head, so I used my right hand to grab an open pack of cigarettes and flipped open the top. It was three-quarters full, so I was fairly sure it would last while Traci was giving me the blowjob. Taking a page out of Marge's and Lori's book, I was resolved to hold off as long as I could before coming. While I may be physically incapable of having multiple orgasms, I knew it would be a very long time indeed before Traci Caspar would again give me head while I smoked. ------- Chapter 49 "Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got." - J. Joplin "Chad, would you have sex with me?" Why did the women in my life always choose to ask me shocking questions when I was drinking something? I had suspected something was up by the way she had been behaving, so I had kept my guard up; otherwise I would have known how hot canned coffee felt passing through one's nostrils. "No," I replied. "Why not?" "I can think of three reasons: Traci for one, and Pollyanna for the second." "Well, duh, Traci said it was okay as long as she was able to watch. As for my girlfriend, we've talked about it. She even wants a shot at you," Rose said with a grin. After the conversation I had with Michelle, I was not the least bit surprised that voyeuristic my girlfriend had given her approval. I also began to suspect that there might be something in the water in Japan to bring about these recent revelations. Nodding, I said, "I would rather have sex with Pollyanna than have sex with you." I swore silently to myself. As the words passed through my lips, I knew I should have phrased that better. Rose's reaction confirmed my fear; her grin faded, and there was a tad bit of pain in her voice when she asked, "Is it because I'm not attractive enough?" "Baka! How many times have I said that the four of you are the prettiest, sexiest, cutest, and most adorable freshman at Central High? No, I meant to say I would feel more comfortable having sex with Pollyanna, because I would know that she would not feel beholden to me." Rose took a moment for what I said to sink in. With a trace of a smile creeping into her lips, she said, "Are you sure you don't want to 'beholden' these," and with that, she cupped her ample breasts. We were standing in a fairly decent line waiting to enter Animate, a store dedicated to anime, games, and manga. While the young ladies in line around us may not have understood our conversation, Rose calling me an idiot in Japanese and heaving her breasts at me gave them enough of a clue to amuse them. For her part, Rose paid them no heed and gave me a large grin. I chuckled at her play on words. My moronic sense of humor must be rubbing off on her, I thought. I then grew serious and said, "Rose, as hard as I've tried to convey that you are a part of the household, I keep feeling that you think that you owe me something for living there. If you were to have sex with me, how can I be sure you're not doing it because you think it is paying off some debt to me?" "But I'm not, I swear. I'm attracted to you, and I am curious what it would be like with a guy." "Oh, I see. You just want to use my body then, is that it?" I said with playfulness in my voice. I then grew serious yet again. "You really need to think about how sex will affect not just how you and I interact, but what it might do with your relationship with Pollyanna. It took quite a while for me to show Traci that my love for her could handle having sex with Lori. During that time, Traci was able to understand that our love for one another could handle it. Are you positive that you and Pollyanna's love for each other is strong enough?" "I think so," Rose answered. "No, you need to be one hundred percent sure. Because, if there is even the slimmest doubt, it will blossom into outright jealously. I think part of the reason why Traci is so understanding about what I am doing now is that it's with Marge and Lori, two people that she has always loved. So, even if I was positive that you, Pollyanna, and I could handle it, I still have to consider Traci's views." "I told you, Traci's down with it." First it was Michelle, then the remark to Jean at dinner the previous night, and now Rose. Traci and I were going to have a long heart-to-heart about the dangerous road that she seemed determined for us to take. Frankly, I knew that I could have intercourse with all three women without it affecting me emotionally, but the same could not be said about others. With a serious expression on my face, I told Rose, "You've known Traci long enough to know that she is prone to act on impulses instead of thinking things through. She and I will be having a little discussion about that, but have you run your plan by Lori and Marge? Those two have an equal right to know what is going on." "Okay, I get it. If we have sex, it's not just you and I that I have to worry about, there's a lot of people that I have to consider." I smiled and nodded. She continued on, "Have you thought about having sex with me?" From the confused looks we had been receiving, I had felt secure with our discussion, but for effect, I leaned in and whispered seductively into Rose's ear, "What, do I ever think about you wearing the light blue maid's outfit, the one with the short skirt, walking into the kitchen while you are cooking breakfast, lifting up the hem of the dress, sliding your white silk panties aside, sliding my hard cock deep into your tight wet pussy, filling you with one thrust? I then fuck you from behind while you scramble the eggs, all the while, I'm 'beholden' your soft, but yet firm breasts, pinching your nipples through the light material of your top, no bra to interfere with my hands as they knead your luscious globes as if they were dough?" I then stepped back and said normally, "Nope, never thought about it in a million years." She let out a forced chuckle, redness creeping into her cheeks. I had been around Rose long enough now that I could tell it was a sexual flush and not one of embarrassment. I then added, "I think it is human nature to think about sex with others, even ones we know we can't have." "Alright, I think I understand. Even if everybody else was okay with it, you would still be uncomfortable because, in your twisted mind, you'd think I'd be doing it out of obligation instead of what it really would be, experimentation." Nodding, I added, "There's also birth control." Rolling her eyes, she said, "You do know that I'm on the pill, and of course it will be after your little snipsnip." It should not have surprised me that Rose knew about my upcoming operation, but I still let out a long sigh and brought my left hand to my forehead, my thumb and middle finger seeking out my temples and began massaging. Eyes closed, I asked wearily, "Is Traci the last to know again?" Rose let out a chuckle and answered, "I doubt it -- I overhead Mrs. Casper on the phone scheduling the appointment." After a moment's pause, she added in an apparent afterthought, "I didn't tell Pollyanna, if that is what you are worrying about." I opened my eyes and assured Rose, "I would never think that. You've always been good at keeping secrets and not passing along gossip. Hell, I could tell you some of my deepest and darkest secrets, secure with the knowledge that you'd not pass it on." A strange look appeared briefly on Rose's face before she gave me a warm smile at my off-handed compliment. As I took a swig of the canned coffee, I began to wonder if I could ever tell any of my loved ones about my true past. Would me telling them ever be worth the risk that they would be exposed to by having the knowledge of the existence of the CYA? ------- "What did you two do, buy out the store?" Traci asked as she opened the door to the hotel room. Rose answered, "Hardly. Actually, we'll need to head on back with Lori so that she can buy the hentai. Plus, a third set of hands would be useful." I deposited the large blue Animate bags that I was carrying onto one of the beds, and Rose followed my lead by doing likewise. We also emptied out our backpacks of the smaller blue bags that we had been able to stuff inside. "What's that?" Traci asked, pointing with her finger. I picked up what had caught Traci's eye and handed it to her, explaining, "This is the reason why Rose and I ended up standing in a line for fifteen minutes after the store opened." Rose let out a soft chuckle as Traci removed the blue bag that was wrapped around the manga and pulled it out. The cover illustration of two pretty boys in a close embrace seemed to clue my girlfriend into the contents without her having to know Japanese to read the title. After a few moments' pause, she asked, "Why?" "Why not? Besides, the author signed it," I answered. It had been shortly after the conversation with Rose about my vasectomy that a pair of store employees had come out from the store and began to hand out numbers corresponding to titles listed on a sign board that one of them carried. Since yaoi (boy/boy love stories) was not one of my areas of specialties, I had never heard of the author before, so Rose and I had chosen two different ones. While I was unsure what I was going to do with my copy, Rose said it was the perfect gag gift for David. Rose confirmed my words by nodding at Traci when my girlfriend looked at her, as the redhead picked up the phone and called her room. I maneuvered over to the chair in which I had received much pleasure the previous night and proceeded to light up a cigarette. When Traci looked up from the manga, she noted where I was sitting and, while she tried to remain unfazed, a bit of color crept into her cheeks when I gave her a wink and tilted my head slightly towards the floor in front of me. By the time I had finished my cigarette, Pollyanna, Lori, and Michelle had joined us in the room. A minute after that, Jean and Marge came in as well. Since I had been trained to notice even the minutest detail of body language, I easily picked up that Marge and Jean had indeed spent the night together -- their subtle glances as well as restrained smiles at one another were as bright as day to me. It was decided that we would have brunch at MOS Burger and then head to Asakusa to do some sightseeing there. We were able to use the Rail Pass to make our way to Ueno via train and then transfer to Metro Ginza line to reach there. It was just a short walk to reach Kaminarimon, the "Thunder Gate" that lead to Sensji, the largest Buddhist temple in Tokyo. After we took a few pictures of us standing in front of the famous gate, we began to walk through the large arcade of shops that lay between the gate and the temple. It became quickly apparent that we were not going to making much progress anytime soon, as just about every shop caught the eye of somebody in our large horde. Not only were the shops small, but they were cramped as the storeowners tried to pack in as much as possible. Not wanting to spend the entire day in the shopping arcade, I decided to speak up. "How about if we split up and meet back at the Kaminarimon in an hour?" I suggested. After receiving a few dubious looks, I asked, "An hour and a half?" Nodding, Marge said, "Sounds like a plan." Instead of everyone breaking off in different directions, we continued to make our way towards the temple as a group, but our numbers quickly dwindled as different kitsch drew the girls away. Rose and I seemed to be the only ones with blinders on as we pretty much walked straight to the temple itself; Pollyanna opted to check out a shop that was selling toys and outfits for pets. When we traveled through Hzmon, the main gate to the temple at the end of the arcade, we paused to marvel at that as well as a five-story pagoda. Since it was a weekday, the main temple itself was only moderately crowded, so Rose and I were able to burn some incense and, after depositing some coins in the long donation box that was in front of the altar, say a prayer with relative ease. There was a booth that was selling some merchandise associated with the temple so I bought two sets of men's prayer beads. "Is one of those for Mike?" Rose asked, and when I nodded my head, she gave me a small pout, saying, "I was going to buy him one." She then proceeded to buy a woman's set of prayer beads, and after she finished the transaction, she tried to buy Mike's from me. I was tempted to suggest that we could 'go halvesies', but I recognized the determined look in her eyes and acceded. As Rose and I were going down the steps of the temple, we spotted Pollyanna and met up with her. Rose's girlfriend did not have much interest in seeing inside, so we proceeded back towards the Kamirarimon. Instead of retracing our steps through the arcade, we decided to take one of the parallel streets and see the shops along there. While they were still somewhat geared towards tourists, they were more specialized, and what they lacked in quantity, they made up with quality. It was in one of these shops that I found some new footwear. The two girls did not comment when I found jika-tabi (tabi that contact the ground) in my size, but they did seem interested when I slipped on the geta. Rose let out a loud exaggerated sigh and began to shake her head from side-to-side. "Nani?" I asked, not bothering to hide my grin. I knew exactly the reason why my small-statured friend was bothered: the wooden sandals added five centimeters to my height. "Baka," Rose retorted. "You know, you could always buy a set for yourself." Rose went ahead and did just that, though the geta she bought were more feminine -- black lacquered with a red decorative thong. While the teeth of her geta were wider, they were only half as high as mine. Pollyanna choose to buy a pair of zori, a different type of throng sandals that were made from rice straw instead of wood like the geta. After we had left the shop and started to walk down the street, Pollyanna began to laugh. "There's no way I'll lose either of you. I just have to keep my ear open for the click-clack," Pollyanna said between fits of laughter. "Oh, hush you," Rose admonished her girlfriend, explaining, "I think there are cute." Pollyanna actually reached up to cover her mouth to stifle any further laughter, but that only lasted for a few moments before she could not stand it any longer and began to laugh anew. Even a stern look from Rose did not stop her, especially when I corrected Pollyanna. "The sound it makes is not 'click-clack', but 'karankoron'." When Rose, Pollyanna, and I made it back to meeting spot, we found Traci waiting for us. I do not know which was a bigger surprise: Traci being early, or Lori being the last to arrive -- late. After Lori finished apologizing for being tardy, Traci teased her older sister, "Someone's going to be punished." Lori retorted, "If we had to punish you for every time you were late, you'd still be at home, grounded." "Girls," Marge said, interrupting any further comments from them, "Knock it off. I'll send the two of you back to the hotel if need be. Besides, we've all been guilty of running late before, well, excluding our anal retentive, Y-chromosomed companion." "Gomen," I replied. "I'll try to chill during our vacation. So, where to next?" Since I had acquiesced to the planning by the others, we had ended up with a list of places to go without any set schedule. It suited me just fine, so long as I was able to get to Yasukuni by sunset today. Jean had a guidebook out and was consulting a map of Tokyo, getting her bearings. After a few moments, she commented, "We transferred at Ueno, right? We could head there or Akihabara. Both seem nearby." I closed my eyes and visualized the street map of the area. After a quick calculation, I stated, "Ueno is close to two and a quarter kilometers away; easily within walking distance." When I opened my eyes, I received a few dumbfounded looks. It was Rose who seemed to voice what everybody else was thinking. "It cost us, what, 160 yen to take the subway from here to Ueno? Even I'm not that cheap." ------- A six-minute ride on the subway took us from Asakusa to Ueno, one of the exits dumping us out right at one of Ueno Park's many entrances. After climbing a couple sets of steps, we came across the statue of Saig Takamori, which had become over time a well-known meeting place in the Park. Since the park was rather big, we decided to break up into two groups: Michelle, Pollyanna, Jean, and Marge opted to check out Ueno Zoo, while the rest of us choosing to visit the National Museum. We figured that two hours should be ample time to explore both venues and would meet back at the statue by four o'clock. As we walked along the path to the National Museum, we came across a few interesting sights. The sakura (cherry trees) were just beginning to bloom in Tokyo, and we spotted more than a few office workers spread out blue plastic tarps under the trees, claiming spots for their colleagues for the hanami (flower viewing) parties that they would be having after work. Besides those lone souls who were trying to locate the 'perfect spot' for their co-workers, there were families and others who did not need to wait until the end of the business day to start their celebration — mostly alcohol driven. Another thing of note that we saw was the large concentration of homeless people who had set up camp in the park. Some of their abodes -- which were mainly constructed out of cardboard and the same type of blue tarps --looked as if they had been up for months, possibly years. A few of the homeless sat crossed-legged with a hat or other type of receptacle set out before them, their heads hung low, not making eye-contract with people as they walked by. I do not know if they were doing so out of shame or perhaps they had dozed off, but a couple of them mumbled thanks when I would pause to drop a few yen into their containers. Rose gave me a puzzled look; I had not given anything to the panhandlers we had came across prior to those in the park. I replied to her expression, "People are going to be partying pretty late tonight, being loud and disturbing them." I do not know if my hypothesis about their possible plight moved Traci and Lori to contribute to the next homeless person we came across, but it was a slight surprise when Rose tossed in a few ten-yen coins as well. Rose being ever thrifty, I joked, "I bet you decided to come with us to the Museum because it is cheaper than the zoo." Shaking her head, she told us, "I'm just not keen on seeing caged animals." Her explanation touched a nerve deep inside of me. The reason why I chose to visit the museum over the zoo was that the conditions the animals were kept in hit a little too close to home. Being born in captivity, many of them would never be exposed to what lay outside their cages. It was too similar to the numerous rooms back at the Compound with their one-way mirrors, never knowing if we were being observed and documented by our trainers or politicians who were on sightseeing tours -- even "special projects" funding had Congressional oversight. As I started to feel morose, I self-diagnosed a dose of nicotine would be the proper cure. I turned out to be wrong: the cigarette did not lift my sprits as much as Traci's antics. I was able to take out my cigarette case from my jacket's inner pocket with my right hand, opening it up and grabbing a cigarette with my lips. However, when I tried to release Traci's hand, she refused to let go of my left hand. Instead, she reached across her body and used her free hand to locate one of the lighters I had in my left jacket pocket. Since the lighter was one which was acquired in Japan, it did not have any of the bloody 'child safety' features that the ones in the States had, and she was able to light it with her off hand on her first attempt. It must have been a humorous sight, Traci and I trying not to break stride as she lit my cigarette for me. Once we were successful in lighting the cigarette, she did not return the lighter to my jacket pocket; instead slipping it into her jeans pocket to be ready to repeat the process if needed. The depression that I had started to slip into instantly vanished as such a simple action reminded me of the wonderful life I was now living. ------- The National Museum was made up of four large buildings, and we were able to explore the Honkan and Heiseikan during the two hours we had. During that time, I alternated between holding hands with Traci and with Lori. It may have been my imagination, but at one point, I thought I caught a silent exchange between Traci and Rose, my girlfriend trying to encourage her friend to take a turn at holding my hand. Whatever the actual conversation was about, Rose had ended it with a bemused smile and a slight shake of the head. After we had reconvened, we headed over to Yasukuni Shrine. Again, we ended up taking the subway, only having to make one transfer to get from Uneo Station to Kudanshita -- one of the nearest stations to the Shinto Shrine. It was a short uphill walk to the closest entrance to the Shrine's grounds, which happened to be the main one. Even before we set foot on the grounds, the first torii was visible -- as well it should have been since it was the largest in Japan. Unlike the one at Meiji Shrine, this one was constructed out of steel and stood twenty-five meters tall and thirty-four meters wide. Lori's eyes narrowed as she recalled, "I think I saw this on our way to the Hotel from the Airport." Nodding in agreement, I told her, "I think you're right. After all, the Metropolitan is about five kilometers to the North-West as the crow flies." Before we passed under the torii, I released Traci's hand, paused, and bowed to the hoden -- main building. My travel companions seemed to have grown accustomed to my odd behavior; Rose even joined me with the bow. They too had stopped long enough for my indulgence, and when we continued on, I made it a point not to resume holding Traci's hand. Perhaps she thought that I was being courteous or reverent, because she did not protest. Instead, I wanted to have both hands free in case anything should arise -- not that having two hands unimpeded would stop a bullet. Also, I did not want Traci to notice the change that my body was going through. When I was in the CYA, we were raised devoid of emotion. The times that I had taken a person's life, I had done so without as much as a blink of an eye. My training was such that, so long as I executed the mission, as well as thought out all of the possible likely scenarios, then everything should go according to plan. Self-preservation is a primal instinct, and years of conditioning had suppressed such troublesome emotions like fear or worry. Upon leaving the Agency, I had begun to experience the emotions that they had tried to drill out of us: joy, love, happiness, hope, optimism, and so forth. A drawback was that I also was experiencing some of the darker ones: fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, and et cetera. It was the latter set of emotions that I was going through as I drew closer to the shrine; not for myself, but for the women. While I was fairly certain that it was not visibly noticeable, I knew that my body was a few degrees warmer than normal. My heart rate was elevated and my palms had begun to moisten. Since Traci was the one whom I held hands with the most, chances were that she would have picked up one or more of my body tells. It was 600 meters from the first torii to the main building, and I tried to observe every single face; none of them stood out as being ones that I had come across prior. Being a tourist was helpful, because it was not out of place to be looking around -- whereas a local would be focused on a specific goal, not bothering to take in the sights. Since we were walking westward and the sun was setting, wearing sunglasses should appear normal, so I reached into my jacket and put on my glasses. Had I realized the attention that it would evoke from the girls, I would have worn the glasses sooner during our trip. "O-M-G! I thought you lost them," Rose said. While all four girls had been with me when I bought the glasses, the fact that they had 'disappeared' from the house would have been most noticeable to Rose. While I would never believe for an instant that she would actively snoop, she took pride in knowing where things belonged. Besides housecleaning, she would put away the clothes after doing the laundry and knew what went where. Since I had planned on using the sunglasses as part of a disposable disguise, they ended up with the JIB I kept in a concealable box under the passenger seat of my car. The rudimentary 'Jack-in-the-Box' that I had made paled in comparison to the ones that the CIA, FBI, and CYA used. Theirs, one just needed to trigger it, and in less than five seconds, a popup device would be deployed to represent the upper half of a person. Besides looking cruder, I was able to get my time down to ten seconds setting up mine, consisting of a small tripod with telescoping legs, a sweatshirt, a modified inflatable vest, and the blond wig. While neither would fool anybody upon close inspection, they were designed to be used when under vehicular surveillance. Before I could reply to Rose, Michelle added, "You look like an 80's pornstar." I looked in her direction and rolled my eyes, feeling baka as soon as I did since I was already wearing the sunglasses and my pupils were out of view. As I was thinking up a retort, Jean asked her daughter, "Oh really? And how do you know what an 80's pornstar looks like? Has somebody been getting into Mommy and Daddy's private videotapes?" As Michelle began to blush, I turned my head and asked Marge, "What are 'videotapes', Mrs. Casper?" Not missing a beat, Marge answered, "Oh, ancient media. We would actually have to buy or rent our porn from places called 'video stores'." I let out a mock gasp and shook my head in feigned disbelief. "People paid for porn? How primitive." "Now, now, it was possible to get some free porn from the Net. Mainly just dirty stories or ASCII pictures," Marge told me with a subtle wink. Lori noticed the wink, and a touch of pinkness began to creep into her cheeks. Perhaps it was naiveté on my part to think that I had introduced online erotica to the Caspars. While Lori and Traci had not seemed to have known about it, Marge could have come across it back when she was in college. While she might not have been in school when the Web was around, she could have had access to Usenet -- the precursor to the World Wide Web. Throughout the conversation, my eyes continued scanning the people we walked by. While such an exchange could have lifted my mood, it only served as a reminder of what was at stake: the sense of a normal life. Actually, 'normal' was pushing it. Having sex with a girlfriend's sister and mother had to be extremely rare, despite what was published in the letters section of Hustler Magazine. After we passed through the second torii, the largest bronze one in Japan, Rose and I broke off from our party and we went over to a stone basin to perform harai -- purification. Picking up a ladle, I scooped up some water and poured it over my first left hand and then my right. In the past, the mouth would be rinsed with water from the left hand, but that practice was not commonly observed, so I skipped it. I was bemused to see Rose did not need to mimic my actions, completing the purification before me. While Rose and I walked over to the haiden -- hall of worship -- the rest of the group had decided to check out a few of the stalls that were being operated by Miko -- Shrine Maidens. I noticed Traci checking out some omamori -- charms. Hopefully she would choose something like gakugy jju -- a good luck charm for Students -- and not get the anzan -- protection for pregnant women during term and to ensure a safe and easy delivery. I took a moment from my constant searching of the crowd to observe Rose as she made her offering and prayer. There was no hesitation as she walked over to the rope, took a hold of it, and shook it back and forth, ringing the bell that was attached to the other end. She then bowed twice, clapped her hands twice, bowed once more, and then threw in a couple of five-yen coins. As she brought her hands together and hung her head in prayer, I was impressed that she knew to use five-yen coins for the offering. Five-yen was a homophone with go-en -- karma -- and were often used for donations at shrines. As she began to lift up her head, I stepped forward and made my offering and prayer too. To my chagrin, I found myself actually praying, asking the spirits to watch over those I cared about in case something was to happen to me. After we prayed, Rose and I made our way over to Pollyanna and Traci. Marge, Jean, Lori, and Michelle had migrated over to some benches next to a half-dozen vending machines. As the four of us explored the grounds, I tried to be subtle as I guided us towards the strolling garden behind the hoden. It did not appear that they noticed my navigating, and as we drew closer to the destination, I reviewed for what seemed like the thousandth time my instructions. 'When you toss the coin into the pond that you find, a fish will swallow it, signaling the end of the quest.' I had used Google Earth to recon Yasukuni Shrine shortly after I had received my mission and noted what appeared to be a body of water in the garden. Hopefully I would be able to spot the exact drop point when I reached there; the lack of details fueling to the speculation that the whole mission was a pointless exercise. Before we entered the garden, I spotted a couple of vending machines and made note of them. I also took notice of the seven persons who were in the garden, none of their faces being ones I had come across prior. After being certain of that fact, I began to shift my attention to the layout of the garden, trying to locate the drop point. We walked counterclockwise around the circumference of the pond, the girls pausing on a stone bridge to observe the multitude of color on the koi that swam beneath them. For a second, I considered taking the hundred-yen coin and trying to feed it to one of the carp, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Even if I was fairly certain it was a faux mission, I had to carry it out as if it were legit. There may come a time when I would have to depend on an Agent carrying out their mission and would be quite upset if they did not treat it seriously. At the end of the path, we came upon a gazebo, and my heart skipped a beat when I spotted a small vending machine. Unlike the vending machines we had seen so far during our time in Japan, the one inside the gazebo dispensed koi food. I fished out the hundred-yen coin and dropped it into the coin slot. Grabbing the handle on the vending machine, I began to crank it, not noticing that I was holding my breath until the pellets began to rain forth into a small dish under a nozzle. When the last of the pellets fell, I picked up the dish and handed it to my girlfriend. She gave me a large grin before walking over to the railing and tossing a few pellets into the pond. Pollyanna and Rose joined Traci at the railing and began to feed the koi as well; a small frenzy broke out where they were feeding the carp. I reached into my pocket and took out a regular hundred-yen coin. Before putting it into the coin slot, I took a moment to marvel at the weight. While I knew that both coins had weighed 4.8 grams, the 'package' had felt far heavier; its absence was already noticeable. I bought another dish of fish food, gave it to the girls, and walked over to one of the benches that had an ashtray next to it. Lighting up a coffin nail, I used my solitude to calm down. While a part of me could not allow myself to completely ignore the rest of the people in the garden, I began to take in the actual beauty of the place. A slight breeze caused a few of the cherry blossoms to rain down like snow onto the ground and water. The sound of the garden's waterfall was loud enough to mask the noise of traffic just beyond the garden's walls. It was amusing to find such a serene and tranquil place in the middle of the city. What was even more enjoyable than the landscape was the gleeful laughter of the girls at the gazebo. I found myself watching Rose, and knew that the anxiety that the mission had caused me had been a small price to pay for her security with us. ------- Incomplete and Inactive ------- Posted: 2004-12-17 Last Modified: 2010-01-26 / 08:59:06 am Version: 1.10 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------