Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Leave Me Alone!  Pt.  01


Summary: Student artist deals with his unwanted family.


Keywords: inc,fic



   Chapter 1 - My Childhood

   It's important to know about my childhood, it defined me and my
attitudes.  My dad is a drunk, drug dealer, conman, and biker who
specializes in getting drunk and into fights.  He is a womanizer, often
bringing home women for threesomes whether mom wanted to or not.  Mom is a
young, sexy lawyer.  Unfortunately, dad's behavior cost her several jobs,
or we would have been much better off.

   I have 2 sisters.  They are gorgeous now.  They are tall with long blond
hair, blue eyes, narrow jaw, and have natural huge tits.  They are one year
apart but look more like twins, looking far more similar than different. 
Unfortunately, they have mouths and they talk.  Lizzy and Stacy are three
and four years older than me.  They are the princesses that can do no
wrong. Anything happens or breaks, automatically it's my fault.  I am not a
brother, I am a servant to them.  They both had the best clothes, I was
lucky to get Goodwill.  My name is Mark.

   I had no music, sports, computers, books, and hardly any toys growing
up. I get depressed, others treated me bad, and I began to feel like I
deserved it.  Life isn't so wonderful.  My one release in life is doodling.
I can draw anything.  Napkins, spare paper, boxes, anything is my canvas. I
like the color of paints but paints cost money, and I am not worthy of that
level of expense to my family.

   I do a lot of work around the house and I have my dad's size, 6' 5"
tall, 200lbs.  body.  I look thin because muscle covers a lot of my body.
It isn't until midway through my freshman year in high school that my life
changes.  Mrs.  Smith, the school's oldest teacher and my art teacher is
waiting with the principal in his office for me.

   Mrs.  Smith thinks I am amazingly talented but am very angry and have a
negative view of life.  They are worried I might be a risk to the school.
They think I may kill people, one of those school shooting things.  I
explain about the inequalities at home and how I truly hate my family. 
However, as much as I hate my family, I am an artist and that is my
release. They are relieved and very understanding.  Together, they agree to
help me get a scholarship at an art school.  In class it's all brush
painting now, I like watercolors the best, I find myself proficient at
everything art.

   The subject or more often, my mood, dictate what type of art I use:
pencil, watercolors, oil paints on canvas, etc.  I can't use a computer. 
Since I never had one they seem foreign to me and I don't have enough
control to do what I want.  Most colors are available, but I find that I
need to make the color.  I don't know what color I want until I see it on
the pallet.

   The final piece of my childhood is dating.  I had trust and anger issues
with women due to mom and my sisters which extended to people in general.
It was Mrs.  Smith that set me up with another art student, Ginger.  It was
my senior year, I am 18, Ginger is beautiful, and I am in love for the
first time in my life.  It's four months before I bring her home to study.
She is curious about my parents and sisters.  Mom and dad instantly fall in
love with her and they ease up on me while she is around.  Ginger likes the
attention she gets from them and the contrast of biker boy and lawyer mom.

   A few weeks before graduation I arrive home from completing a lengthy
list of errands to find Ginger's car in the driveway.  I walk into the
house and find my naked mom on the floor, my naked girlfriend is licking
her cunt, and Ginger is being fucked by my naked father.  She looks at me
and tells me her ass is free and come fill it.  I turn around and walk out.
Two blocks away she almost hits me with her car.  She barely has clothes
on, cum is on her cheek, and she is crying hysterically.

   I check, no panties, I point out the cum on her cheek, I describe the
smell of sex on her.  I can't describe the disappointment I feel, only the
words "my parents?" leaves my mouth.  I try to express that if she tried,
there is nothing worse she could have done to me.  I think I told her, "You
are dead to me" and "Leave me alone!" while I continue walking.  She tries
to apologize for two weeks, I have only one thing to say to her, "Leave me
alone!" Each time I see her, it's like ripping a scab off a terrible cut
and the pain coming back.

   Chapter 2 - College

   The day after I graduate I go to see Mrs.  Smith.  She had told me it
was important.  I walk over to her house and there is a party at her house.
Specifically, it's a graduation party for me.  A few of my friends are
there, Ginger, several faculty and staff, and some people from church.  I
have three full-ride scholarships at nice colleges in Chicago, New York,
and Miami.  Since New York is farthest from Oakland, that is my school. 
They bring me to tears when they show me the balance of my new checking
account.  They will rent a studio for me and promise to send painting
supplies to keep me working.

   I am unworthy of their generosity.  Ginger's family is filthy rich, she
put in $100,000.  For that, she wants a portrait.  That seemed fair enough.
She takes off her sweater and pants to reveal yoga pants and a
tight-fitting top.  Mildly sleazy.  I still have anger issues towards
Ginger.  Even though she is stunningly beautiful, the anger overrides her
beauty.  I couldn't keep it out of my drawing.  The result is a very
interesting portrait that accentuated her body in a favorable way, yet an
aura of evil made the drawing unsettling.

   Everyone watched me draw the picture and are amazed at the result.  They
are all convinced I will make it big someday.  The group is excited and in
a frenzy at what they witnessed.  All I did was release my anger and I have
plenty of that due to Ginger and my family.  Ginger thanked me for the
drawing.  I hug her but never say anything to her.  My broken heart still
hurts, I can't speak to someone that hurt me so much.

   The day I leave, I pack a single backpack of clothes.  I don't own a
suitcase, never had a need for one as I never went on the family vacations.
My plan is to wake up early, pack, leave a note, and then take off before
anyone gets up.  I failed.  I walk downstairs with my backpack and Stacy is
in the kitchen making breakfast.  I ignore her and grab pen and paper. 
Stacy made bacon and three eggs with toast, just enough for her.  I would
expect no less.

   She sits down next to me and pushes the plate in front of me.  I am
confused, I don't understand.

   Stacy looks sad and says, "I heard what Ginger did to you.  I know about
the party.  I know you are leaving, and I understand why.  You have a
wonderful opportunity, I won't tell them everything.  They will know enough
to not send the police after you.  You have a long bus ride, I made you
breakfast, and I am giving you my savings.  I know I will never get to be a
nurse, so I have no need of this.  I want you to have this money and use it
to make something of your life.  I hope you finally find happiness.  You
sure as hell didn't get it here."

   She stands up, hugs me hard with tears falling down her face, says
"Goodbye," and then walks back up to her room.  I would have been less
surprised to see a dinosaur reduce our house to kindling and then get hit
by lightning as I hear I won the lottery.  I ate breakfast in shock and
then leave without writing the note.  It's a long bus ride to New York.

   +++++

   My new apartment is one of four on the top floor of a six-story
building. It's close to school which is nice since I walk.  The apartment
is perfect for one person.  A small washroom with a nice shower contains
the only walls in my place.  The bed, living room, and kitchen all share
one space.  A bed with sheets, a couch, and a small round table with four
chairs is all the place has.  No artwork, bookcases, or storage.

   My sister's money will go a long way to getting towels and kitchen
stuff. The doorman shows up with several boxes that Mrs.  Smith and friends
shipped to me.  Most of it is art supplies but there are some towels,
sheets, a blanket, and some basic kitchen stuff like plates, cups, and
silverware.  Guess I don't need to buy that stuff!

   My first several days consist of four paintings and drawings from the
perspective of each corner of my apartment.  I did a pencil drawing, a
watercolor, and two oil paintings in two styles.  I notice there is no
anger in my drawings, these are just objects.  It was fun using four styles
to capture most of the same items.  I send these back to Mr.  Smith to
share with the others.  I don't have a camera, I pass on what I can and
what I do best.

   They had encouraged me to get a cell phone, but I don't want to waste
their money on something I don't need.  Who would I call?  I have no TV, no
internet, no computer, no phone.  Painting and improving my craft consume
me.  It's the one thing in this world that makes me happy.

   For two years I can see nobody matches my skills, however, I am still a
nobody.  It isn't until we get human subjects and I match up with a
gorgeous blond cheerleader with curves in all the right places that I get
to show off.  One models while the other paints and then you switch.  We
get extra credit for doing nudes.  I am an A+ student, I don't need the
extra credit.  She needs lots of help, so I agree to help her out.  I am
still a male and I know pretty when I see it.  She has it in spades.

   My place has great lighting, a terrific view, and is set up for painting
already.  We flip a coin and I model first.  I pull up a kitchen chair and
then strip in front of her while she sets up her paints.  I sit on the
chair, legs spread a bit, in a pose that looks like I am just finished
eating a meal, my hands on my knees.  She gasps at me.

   Jane says, "You are kidding me, right?  Put that sock away." I don't
understand.  She walks to me and pulls my cock.  She shrieks, "No fucking
way, oh my god, it's real."

   My now growing member gets even bigger as do her eyes.

   I ask, "What?  You do know how to paint by now right?  Get to it."

   Jane is still staring at me, "That thing is a monster.  It's long and
thick.  It's awesome!"

   I set her straight "Have you never seen a guy naked?"

   Jane is growing angry with me, "Are you kidding me?  Look at my body.  I
have seen hundreds of men and I ain't never seen anything like you. 
Certainly the girls tell you that thing isn't normal."

   I laugh at her, my anger is rising, "My sex life consists of one girl
that I loved, and it ended with me catching her having sex with my parents.
That affects a guy."

   Jane's attitude is now one of concern, "Oh shit, that must have sucked."

   I continue solemnly, "My parents are an embarrassment and my sisters
make me sick.  My life growing up was terrible.  So, no, I have no clue. 
It brings back lots of powerfully sad memories.  I think it would be best
if we switched partners, this is getting weird."

   Jane pounces, "Oh no big boy.  I think I understand you now.  You need
me, I can help you in ways you can't comprehend yet.  I can also supply you
with lots of women to fuck."

   That last part piqued my interest which she noticed.

   Jane boasts, "I am the alpha female on campus.  If I say a guy is a
great fuck, every woman will want you.  I will funnel only those that are
worthy of your time and paint your way.  I can't paint.  I wish I could,
but I just don't have the skill.  I want to be a dealer.  I believe I can
spot talent.  You have big talent and a big cock, that's as good as it gets
in the art world."

   Jane is massaging my shoulders behind me while rubbing her breasts into
my back as she says, "I am going to paint you badly but hopefully good
enough to pass the class.  Then you are going to paint me, and it will be
good.  We will have some great sex where you pound the fuck out of me, and
then I want to see what you can really do when you paint me a second time."

   It seemed like a good plan and I get to fuck a hot woman.  I go back to
the chair and assume my pose.  Jane starts painting and she takes her time.
Two hours later, she finishes.  She isn't horrible, just not special.  She
has an accurate drawing of me that will grade out fine.

   Jane certainly isn't shy being nude.  As if it is nothing, she whips off
her top, pants, bra, and panties.  She is stunning.  Her tits are
artificially round and perky, her smile is perfect, she shaves.  Her short
blond hair touches her neck where it curls.  Her pussy is pink and
inviting. I expected it to be more ...  worn out.  It isn't.

   Her face is interesting.  It's round with thick eyebrows.  She has a
slender nose and long thin lips.  Her teeth are bright white and perfect.
Her skin is perfection although she could use some sun.  She is your
typical cute cheerleader with big boobs.

   Jane sits on the chair, legs slightly parted, sits up straight, and
looks straight at me.  I draw quickly, capturing the moment, her beauty,
and the mood.  She inspires me, my drawing is awesome, far better than her
drawing.  She looks at it.

   Jane says, "That is amazing.  I can almost feel the sexual tension.  The
class is going to love this." She takes my hand and pulls me over to the
bed.  She asks, "Can you eat pussy?"

   I reply honestly, "I have done it and she didn't complain.  But then she
was slut enough to fuck my parents so maybe it didn't take much.  I like it
and if I had to guess I would say she did as well."

   Jane replies with a smile, "Let's play it safe and skip this time.  I
will teach you to be a master but right now I want you to stay confident, I
just want you to fuck me hard.  I want to remember this fucking, and in an
hour, I should still be sore.  You pick the position."

   I explain, "Since this is our first time, I want to see the joy and/or
pain in your face.  I choose to fuck you in missionary."

   Jane smiles big as she gets on her back.  She spreads her legs wide and
seems apprehensive.

   I ask, "You seem unsure.  We don't have to do this.  I will never force
you to do anything.  It must be your choice." I start to get out of bed.

   Jane yells, "No!  No.  Noooooo.  I want you to fuck me.  I am just
slightly scared of your huge cock.  I have never taken anything like that.
If you aren't careful, it could be very painful for me."

   That eases my fears, "Oh Jane.  I don't ever want to hurt you.  I will
lose a race with a snail if needed, just so you don't get hurt.  I also
won't kiss and tell.  What happens here, stays here.  I would say you are
too beautiful to hurt but that would be wrong.  You are just too nice,
thoughtful, and smart to treat poorly."

   I start slowly pushing my cock into Jane.  The helmet goes in easy
enough.  The next seven inches take a while to get in.  We both have stupid
silly smiles on our faces.  Me because she is so tight and her because it
feels so good.  As promised, I am slow and gentle.  It takes ten minutes to
hit bottom.  I give her a few moments and then start pulling out.  I can
pull out faster.  The return trip goes much faster.  Soon, I can start a
slow pace of thrusting in and pulling out of her steaming vagina.

   Jane can't talk.  The mouth is working but no sound comes out.  I am no
better; this woman is fantastic.  Now it's time to fulfill her desires.  I
pick up the speed and use more force with my hips.  I am awkward at first
but soon compensate and smooth the ride for us.

   In a very broken English from thrusting hard, I ask, "Birth control?"
She nods her head yes.  I should have asked first.  I continue to ride her
hard and fast.  My hips are getting sore from the slamming of bodies.  I
hope she is ready because I won't last much longer.

   Her face is turning red and she starts stroking her clit.  Yes, she will
explode soon.  One more stroke and she explodes with a long loud scream. 
She had already recovered from her orgasm when I finally get off and shoot
five healthy ropes of cum into Jane.

   She gets up quickly and sits back in the chair and yells at me, "You,
... um ...  Mark, paint me again.  NOW!"

   I am sore, fatigued, hot, sweaty, and smelly.  Jane has a pool of cum
under her on the chair.  She has the exact same pose, yet I take liberties.
I gave her a slight smirk, removed a few marks, removed the redness in her
face, and added the glow of a well-fucked woman.  I added confidence and
happiness.  I capture the moment.

   After I finish, we take a shower.  We are too sore to do anything else.
Jane stays the night and it is wonderful.  She snuggled up in my arms, I
hold a breast, lightly teasing a nipple, and we quickly fall asleep.

   Chapter 3 - Turning in Homework

   Jane's Point of View:

   Mark and I are having bagels for breakfast.  I am sitting at his little
table and enjoying the view outside.  His studio does have a wonderful view
of the area.  The two windows come together to form a corner.  The table
and chairs sit looking out on the beautiful city.  I could sit here all
day.

   I tell Mark, "For Human Subjects we turn in our drawings today.  I will
drop yours off, so you can sleep in.  Then I am hanging up my picture. 
It's one of the most amazing pieces of art I have ever seen.  Thank you." I
kiss him on the lips.  "You can figure fucking me or someone else Monday
through Friday night for the whole semester.  If you want a night off, just
let me know."

   +++++

   I walk into Mr.  Skinner's class with my two drawings and a painting. 
There are several other people there and a stack of drawings.  This is
exactly what I wanted, other female students around.

   I say, "Hi Mr.  Skinner.  I am turning in my sketch of Mark, my lab
partner." I showed it to him.

   He wasn't impressed, "You need to work on your proportions young lady."

   Another girl remarked, "Damn, that is funny.  Does he know you did that
to him?"

   I smile at them, "Um, excuse me.  My proportions are dead on.  I know
what it looks like and I can guarantee you, it's not a sock like I first
thought it was.  That freaking thing is real, and he knows how to use it. I
brought Mark's sketch in as well.  This is his official school project that
I am turning in.  As you can see, he is far better than the rest of us."
Everyone could see the obvious difference in quality.

   I still have an unopened bag and I say, "After he sketched me I had him
fuck the hell out of me for thirty minutes, he then painted this..." I pull
out my painting.  "He did this for me.  I am only showing you this, so you
know the type of talent he has.  I consider this the most valuable
possession I own right now.  I am hanging this in my apartment."

   Mr.  Skinner takes the painting and looks at it closely for several
minutes.  He is scrutinizing the brush strokes and then the overall image.

   Mr.  Skinner finally lets out a gasp, "This is breathtaking.  Obviously,
you are very pretty, but the way he painted you is amazing.  I can't say I
have ever seen anything like this." He gave me back the picture and then
hugged me.  "I would send that home and keep it safe.  Someday it will be
very valuable."

   I reply, "It already is.  He is a great fuck as well but short on
experience.  He needs women to show him the fine art of making love."

   Every woman there instantly is interested.  I give them my cell phone
number and email address.

   I explain, "I am helping him out, but this isn't just about fucking, I
need to know what you can teach him before you get a shot at him."

   Chapter 4 - Leave Me Alone

   Mark's point of view ...

   For the next eight weeks, I have a guest over every night.  Often it is
someone Jane has hand selected.  It didn't take long to see that she is
training me.  Each woman has something to teach me or refine a technique.
Jane is just pure fun.  She is a rare visitor, she is like a pop quiz,
verifying that I am learning.  Most of the girls leave after posing, not
even taking their painting.  That is helpful because I got to see my work
progress from week to week.  School got much harder.  Mr.  Skinner took a
personal interest in me.  I am no longer doing the same assignments as
everyone else, I get more specific instructions that force me to expand
outside of my comfort zone.  He is deceptively cunning at forcing me to use
techniques and colors I don't like.

   These are the best eight weeks of my life.  Then I got THE phone call
that changed my life.  Yes, I now own a phone, I can call and be called by
Jane.  Jane is still in class; therefore, I am amazed when my phone rings.
It has never been called by anyone other than Jane.

   I answer my phone after several rings.  I figured they would hang up,
knowing that it is a wrong number.  It's not.

   I sheepishly say, "Hello, this is Mark."

   The line isn't very good, but I hear, "Mark, your father died, we need
you."

   Instantly I recognize the voice.  It's my mother.  How the hell did she
find me?  My dad is dead.  I am not surprised, it was bound to happen with
his lifestyle.  Drinking at bars and getting into fights.  Eventually,
someone draws a knife or a gun.  Surprised he lasted this long.

   My reply is short, and I tried to pronounce every word so there would be
no doubt about my meaning or intent, "Leave me alone!" Click.

   I call Jane and I am short with her, "I need a week off.  No girls, no
sex, no drawing.  Thanks." Click.

   My phone rang again but I didn't answer it.  I got a blanket and wrap it
around me as I sat in front of the city by the windows.  I sit and think. I
hate my dad.  I hate my family.  Yet he is my blood, the person that helped
make me.  He is also the guy that fucked Ginger.

   An hour later I jump out of my skin when Jane hugs me.  She has her own
key and let herself in when I didn't answer.  I have tears running down my
face but can't talk.  With Jane, I don't need to.  She sits next to me, I
wrap us in my blanket.  We hold each other, her breasts and head on my
chest.  She never said anything.

   Later, it's dark out, and I choke out, "My dad is dead.  My mother
called me here at my place.  I told her, leave me alone." We sit for
another ten minutes before I say, "They are coming." Jane holds me tighter.

   Jane eventually takes me to the bed where I have a series of nightmares.

   The next morning, we wake together, take a common shower, and sit down
for bagels and cream cheese for breakfast.  I am in no mood for sex, even
from Jane.

   I ask sarcastically, "Feel like moving to France?"

   I get a blank look from Jane, "Will that be far enough?"

   She killed the fun, "Probably not."

   Jane asks, "Why do you think they're coming?"

   I smirk, "That's easy.  She called me.  The only time I exist is when
they need me to do something.  I have been here three years and only now I
get a call.  They are in trouble.  They purposely ruined my life and my one
love.  They despise me and the fact that I exist.  You should get going. 
This is going to be ugly.  I don't want you to suffer on my account.  My
mom is a lawyer, she always wins."

   Jane laughs at me, "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

   I feel inadequate, "I know I like you.  That's all I care about."

   Jane brags, "My family runs a famous law firm in New York.  I am the
black sheep, I like art.  However, I grew up listening to discussions at
the dinner table and won the state debate competition all four years in
high school.  Your mom doesn't scare me.  I will stay with you and
represent your interests.  When they get here, let me do the talking."

   I give her a huge hug, "What would I ever do without you?"

   Jane laughs, "You are helpless, you would be at the city zoo with the
Chimpanzees."

   +++++

   The next day Jane and I return to my place after class.  We picked up
some Chinese for dinner.  I have a large bag of food, my backpack, and am
searching for my keys when I sense I have guests waiting in my hallway.

   Sitting on the floor next to my door is my mother, two sisters, and a
police officer.  The officer is the only one that looks happy to see me.

   Jane speaks first, "I want to see the paperwork."

   Officer, "Paperwork?"

   Jane asks, "Do you have an arrest warrant, a search order, or anything
else official to explain why you are here?"

   The officer says, "Oh no ma'm.  This isn't official, this is a courtesy
service as requested by the Oakland PD.  They thought there might be
trouble, I am here to act as an official peacekeeper."

   Jane says, "Damn right there will be trouble.  You people show up
unannounced and want to make demands.  I thought my client was very clear
to you, 'Leave me alone'."

   Officer asks, "Client?

   Jane offers, "My family are the Westgates'.  My uncle is the city
prosecutor and they donate a ton of time helping the city.  If needed I can
call mommy or daddy." She takes out her phone.

   Officer says, "No, no.  That won't be necessary.  Look, I don't know
these people.  They are in danger and my boss wants to help them smooth
things over with the son.  I am in a tough spot here, I can't win, it will
look bad on me if I can't get them talking."

   Jane laughs at him, "You need a better story."

   The officer looks sad, "Sorry, the truth is all I have and it's
pathetic."

   Jane looks at my mom, "If you say anything I am going to have the nice
officer gag you.  He has nothing to lose.  Since I am helping him he will
do it."

   I never saw anyone put my mom in her place like that.  Mom is furious
but intelligently says nothing.

   Jane asks, "Which of you is Stacy?"

   Stacy raises her hand.

   Jane asks, "How did you trace Mark down?"

   Stacy's eyes go huge.  How did she know it was Stacy?

   Stacy meekly answers, "Ginger is my best friend.  Her aunt is Mrs. 
Smith, Mark's old art teacher who Mark still stays in touch with via
letters.  Letters have addresses.  Phonebook matches address with the name
and phone number."

   Jane compliments her, "Smart girl.  The questions get harder now.  Did
Mark not make it clear he does not want any contact with you all?"

   Stacy answers, "He was perfectly clear.  There is no doubt he never
wants to see us again."

   Jane sticks the dagger in, "Why the fuck are you here then?"

   Stacy starts to tear up, "Because I don't want to die."

   Jane wasn't prepared for that.  Even I believe Stacy.  It took her a
while to ask the next question.

   Jane asks, "Why here?  Why not the witness protection program?"

   Stacy answers, "Dad made a gang mad, there is no case against the gang
so no witness protection.  Everyone at home knows the story of Mark and how
much he hates us, what safer place to go?  Everyone knows we will never
come here.  Nobody else knows where HERE is.  He doesn't correspond with
anyone else.  No cell phone, internet, or email.  He is off the grid.  They
figure in a year or two we will be safe.  Mrs.  Smith burned all the
letters before we left, there is no link."

   Jane says to the officer, "You are dismissed.  One way or the other,
there is nothing more you can do."

   The officer quickly leaves with a smile on his face.

   Jane invites my family in and seats them on the couch.  They look around
in wonder but don't speak a word.  They are too scared.

   Jane takes me to the balcony by the windows and softly asks me, "Do you
care if they die?"

   I take a moment to formulate my thoughts, "Part of me doesn't care. 
They treated me worse than a slave.  Part of me wants to kill them myself.
Part of me says they were too ignorant to understand what they were doing.
Part of me says they are family and nothing they did matters."

   Jane asks, "Do you see yourself as a caring passionate young man or a
heartless killer?"

   I am shocked, "I guess I know where you stand."

   Jane quickly replies, "No.  I am helping you see yourself, so you don't
make a terrible decision.  You have good reason to hate.  However, it's not
really who you are.  It's not the man I fell in love with." I look at her
questioningly.  She nods yes.

   I will hate myself, but I say, "They can stay."

   My family looks happy but not thrilled.  They now rely on me.  Their
lives are in my hands.

   Stacy looks at Jane, "Why does my brother need a high-priced lawyer?"

   Jane laughs, "I am an art student, both of my parents and their families
are lawyers.  You learn a bit growing up in that environment.  My passion
is art and I am assisting your brother.  He is an artist, a special one.  I
am adequate, I hope to become an art dealer.  For now, I am a friend and
trainer."

   Stacy hints, "I quote, 'not the man I fell in love with.' So, you are
more than a friend?"

   Jane is now quite uncomfortable.  She pauses before responding.

   Jane replies while holding something back, "Our relationship is unique."
She stares daggers at mom.  "Ginger is still a scar in his heart. 
Permanent, painful damage there.  I have a variety of women teaching him
about sex and love which inspires his creativity and helps his work bloom."

   Jane walks to my stacks of paintings and drawings.  She picks out two of
each.

   Janes points to a drawing and a painting, "He did these two before I met
him.  Obvious quality and a unique style." She points to another drawing.
"He did this one recently.  I hope you can see how much better it is.  He
has improved tremendously." She points to the last painting.  "This is what
he is capable of after having sex.  I think even a blind person can see the
difference."

   I ask Jane, "Why are you sharing me with other women.  This can't be
easy on you.  Oh my, I have become my parents and I made you into Ginger."
My legs give out and I fall to the floor.

   Lizzy is quick as a cat and lunges for me, I fall on her rather than a
table that is close.  She rolls me over and holds me in her arms.

   Jane is quick to comfort me, "Mark, you silly man.  I do it because I
love you.  You need this in your life.  I am feeding you beautiful women
rather than a beer and pizza like most girls do."

   I sit up and reply, "No, I can't do this to you.  It's not fair."

   Jane confesses, "Do you remember our first time?"

   I reply, "Of course I do.  You were amazing."

   Jane blushes, "That was only my second time." My mouth drops open. 
"With your cannon, I didn't want you experimenting on me.  Every woman I
have sent you is an expert at something and they have been teaching you. 
It has worked out well.  Your skills are amazing now and I have about 100
women that will do anything for me day or night no questions asked." That
causes her to giggle.  "This is not hurting me.  We are both getting what
we need."

   Lizzy is still holding me in her arms.  She hasn't said a thing, just
shifting her breasts on my back and resting her chin on my shoulders.  I
can't remember the last time she touched me let alone held me.  I get up,
walk to Jane and lift her so I can hug and kiss her.  She melts in my arms.
I then sit down in a chair and she sits on my lap.

   Jane starts on my family, "You all don't get a say in things anymore. 
Mark is in charge.  You do anything to annoy him, and we will send you
packing for the streets.  You will cook, clean, do laundry, do dishes, and
for the next two weeks, you will scatter on weeknights, so his education
can continue.  I won't have you messing up his life anymore.  You have done
more than enough to fuck him up."

   All three, Mom, Lizzy, and Stacy look hurt and stare at the floor.  Jane
looks playful now, "Mark, I am leaving you with homework.  There is an art
show in a few weeks.  I want five of your best paintings for that showing.
It's a huge event in the art world.  Everyone in New York will be there.  I
want one of a park, one of a student, one of your choice, and one of each
sister."

   I blurt out, "WHAT?"

   Jane disarms me by laughing, "They don't have to be naked.  It's my way
to reconnect you with your family.  From my point of view that will create
drama and your best work.  If I am going to be your agent, I want your best
stuff."

   I inquire with a raised eyebrow, "I have an agent?  I don't remember
signing a contract."

   Jane is blunt, "Do you want to be rich and famous or starving down by
the river in a tent?"

   I try to one-up Jane, "We shall see how you do and then continue from
there."

   Jane wins, "I control the women.  You know what's good for you."

   Lizzy timidly asks, "I think I know where the washroom/shower is.  Where
can I put my clothes and what part of the floor do you want me sleeping
on?"

   Mom says, "We left quick.  Didn't get to sell much.  Friends gave us
money to get here and not much else.  I should be able to get a job even if
it's a paralegal level.  Anything helps."

   Jane takes her phone and goes into the hallway.

   I explain, "I only have two blankets.  The only thing that works is you
three in the bed and I take the couch.  Have you eaten today?" Three heads
shake no.  "There are two Chinese dinners there, that should start you off.
It's getting cold so eat now.  I have bagels and cereal as well."

   I lost my bed and now my dinner.  Yes, we are off to a fantastic start.

   Jane came back inside and hands a business card to mom, "Tomorrow at
9:00 AM at the address printed on the card.  Ask for the lady on the back
of the card.  Don't expect much or nice working conditions.  Those are the
grunts.  They are very competitive, young, and willing to do anything to
move up.  You are immediately a threat to them.  Watch your back and you
better be better than the others."

   Mom fought back a tear and thanked Jane.

   I take Jane's hand, "You, my dear, have a dinner date tonight.  I gave
away our dinner, I now owe you some of your favorite Italian.  Then I will
do some shopping, we need more food for the week." Now speaking to my
family.  "When I get back we can catch up.  I am hungry, I am going to
thank Jane for getting mom a job by taking her to her out."

   +++++

   Chapter 5 - Painting

   I had a nice quiet dinner with Jane.  We ignored conversation about my
family.  Jane went to her dorm and I went grocery shopping.  I have four
heavy bags in my arms.  The store is only a few blocks away, but my arms
feel numb.  Bed, dinner, and now pain.  Is it too late to ...  no, don't
even think that.

   Stacy is in the lobby waiting for me.  She takes three of the bags,
that's her limit, and carries them to my studio.  Lizzy put the groceries
away.  I sit back in a chair while they take the sofa.

   I break the ice, "I have no questions.  I don't care.  I had enough and
just want to be free.  Yet, here we are.  You are in my place, sleeping in
my bed, and eating my dinner.  Instead of screwing a beautiful woman and
improving my art, I am sitting here talking to you." Then with as little
emotion as possible, "Boy, it sure is good to see you all again."

   Mom is first to speak, "I am sorry.  I know you had it bad and my
inaction was the same as supporting your father.  That makes me equally
responsible.  He both hated you and was jealous of you.  He couldn't stand
your drawing because he could only do stick people.  He did everything in
his power to make your life a living hell.  He was a flawed man, but I
loved him more than anything.  There were times I hated him as well.  He
would share me, trade me, and sell me by the hour when I was younger. 
Anything to get drugs, money, or other women.

   "His friends were filthy degenerates.  Your dad would swap wives for an
evening and they could do anything they wanted to me.  He didn't care
because he was doing the same to the other woman.  I lost several good jobs
because pictures or rumors got out about my lifestyle.  I can't ever make
up for your childhood.  I will try.  From now on I am yours, you own me and
can do with me as you please.  I deserve no less."

   Damn, not what I was expecting at all.  Not a bad move on her part, now
I must keep her around.  Bed, dinner, pain, and now I own a slave.  How
much more can they do to me?

   Stacy spoke next, "I should start with I am sorry.  You were like a toy.
You had no feelings.  I could do with you as I pleased.  I never thought of
you as a person.  You were just Mark, a thing that existed.  You weren't
part of the family.  You didn't matter enough to me.  It wasn't until I saw
how distraught Ginger was at losing you that I realized you might also have
feelings.  You had to have feelings for the way you treated Ginger.  I was
mad at her for treating a guy like that.  It took a while for it to
register that that guy was you.

   "Then everything hit me like a ton of bricks.  You are a person like
Lizzy and me.  You had hopes, dreams, and a skill.  Dad wanted to destroy
your world.  Ginger and her aunt quickly organized the apartment and
escape. The colleges had been in the works for months by Mrs.  Smith and
the school principal.  I knew the day before you did that you were leaving.
That's why I made breakfast for you and gave you everything I had."

   Lizzy is tearful, "It wasn't until after you left I realized how
important you were to the family.  You did so much, you never complained, I
took you completely for granted.  The house was a lot lonelier without you
around.  It seemed empty without you, like a part of me was missing.  All
my teachers asked what was wrong.  I couldn't admit that I loved my
brother. I will try not to get in the way.  Just tell me what you want, and
I will do my best to help."

   I announce, "It's past midnight and I have an 8:00 class.  Tomorrow I
will teach you how to prepare a canvas for painting, that will help me out
and then we go from there.  I give mom a twenty-dollar bill.  "It's all I
have.  That needs to get you to work, home, and lunch.  Check into monthly
passes.  Tomorrow is hot dogs and chips for dinner.  I need to adjust my
budget and see how much we can spend on food.  This week is all cheap
dinners.  Sorry.  I am going to bed so you all need to as well."

   I did not sleep well that night.  Someone was restless in the other bed.
They used the washroom, got a glass of water, flipped several times. 
Finally, I hear footsteps patter on the floor over to me.  I look up and
see Stacy staring down at me.  What the hell does she want?

   Stacy says sleepily, "I can't sleep."

   For 18 years she has no use for me.  Only on the day that I leave my
pathetic family does she show me any compassion.  I don't understand her.
On the other hand, she is the only family member that has done anything to
help me in my life.  She made me breakfast once in my life and gave me
$1156.00.

   That money came in real handy.  Otherwise I only had $34.00 of my own
money until I reached New York.  The $100,000 was deposited in a bank here
in New York.  That money from Stacy allowed me to eat well on my way here.
Yet, she is one of the four main reasons I am here in the first place.

   Jane seems to think I am a decent person.  A decent person forgives
people.  Can I do that?  I mean, can I really and honestly forgive them for
what they did to me?  Mom and dad corrupted Ginger, the best thing that
ever happened to me.  OK, I only have to forgive three of them.

   Stacy is looking at me.  Hopeful that I will ...  what?  She wants to
get on the couch next to me?  Why?  Is it possible that she has changed? 
If I were being completely honest with myself, I have loved looking at my
sisters for years.  They are pretty.  Much prettier than the hags at
school. Big chests and cute faces ...  and they are related to me.  Yes,
that is a problem.

   Iit so hard to believe I would fuck these two beauties that I have
lusted after?  No.  Maybe my sisters are growing up, are more mature, and
see me in a new light.  With my talents and progress, maybe they see a use
for me.  Well, I know how to find out Stacy's intentions.  I open up the
blanket and she jumps in next to me.

   Her lithe body seems to fold inside of me.  She kisses me on the cheek.
She places my hands on her firm ample breasts.  I now know she is not
wearing a bra.  She twists her body causing my hands to roam her breasts,
giggles and then tries to sleep.  We both quickly fall asleep.

   ++++++

   The next evening, I send the family out at 6:00 PM because someone is
coming over at 7:00 PM.  This girl likes her cunt munched so I learn a few
more techniques.  She loves a good hard pounding and begged to come back
sometime.  Same answer as always, 'Talk to Jane'.  This girl is different
because she is an athlete and has small breasts.  More muscle than I
normally see and no cleavage to expose.  I still found the hidden sexiness.
For me, this was an exercise in accentuating the positives.  She was
interesting.

   Because of the long carpet munching session, it took longer than normal.
She is heading out as my family came back.  Naturally, they all go to look
at the painting.

   Stacy is in awe, "She wasn't that good looking.  She was pretty, but not
like this.  Yet, nothing is inaccurate.  Is this an optical illusion?"

   I never thought of it that way, but I guess in a way it is.

   I explain, "I don't hide anything, everything is accurate.  However, I
can add more details or shading to add drama and highlight something that
is special about her.  What looks good on her?"

   Lizzy says, "I like her smile, she looks friendly.  Her legs are so long
and supple, their amazing.  The girl that walked out of here looked like a
mess.  Her cheeks were red, and her hair went all ways.  It was like she
just had sex."

   I smile, "She did.  We went at it for 90 minutes.  I painted her face
and hair from before we had sex.  I don't want her to look like a slut or
like I used her."

   Stacy asks, "Why not?  Wasn't she sexy looking with the messed-up hair,
rosy cheeks, and that silly smile on her face?"

   I took out a second canvas, ignored my family and experimented with the
same picture but as she really looked like after we had sex.  Her smile
went from nice to intoxicatingly beautiful.  Her whole demeanor went from
happy and content to satisfied and giddy.  I then took out another canvas
and drew Jane from memory with an accurate look on her face from after sex.

   Mom was the first to speak, "Damn.  If that is how she really looks,
that woman is head over heels in love with you.  I know that look.  That
looks says I will do anything for you." She pauses, the wheels are moving
in her head.  "I am not telling you what to do.  I don't have that right
anymore.  She is putting you before her own feelings.  Trust me, that is
eating away at her insides.  I was in love like that woman and I did
terrible things.  She is in love and is sacrificing herself for you.

   "If I were you, cancel tomorrow and have Jane over.  She may think she
is a lawyer, but I am a damn good one.  I can get the truth out of her and
then it's up to you what happens next.  I understand her thinking but she
is wrong just like I was for the last twenty years."

   A lot of things are swirling in my mind.  She loves me enough to share
me, so I can improve.  Is my improvement worth the pain it causes her?  No.
I made the call to Jane.  I will see her tomorrow after school.

   Mom says to me, "Honey, you're 100 times the man you father ever was."
Tears are running down her face.  "You make me so proud the way you turned
out even after all the shit that has happened to you."

   Chapter 6 - Night Games

   It is late again, two more paintings take a while, so again it's past
midnight.  We go to bed.  Again, I hear tossing and turning in the bed. 
It's not long before Stacy joins me on the couch again.  No words
exchanged, I just open my blanket and she climbs in again.  She places my
hands on her puffy round orbs of pleasure.  She uses my hands to tweak her
nipples which elicits a light moan.  That causes a slight stir in my groin
as I start to stiffen.

   She continues to use my hands to pleasure herself which causes me even
more pleasure.  My cock shifts and it touches her leg.  She uses her hands
to push it away.  She feels my whole cock.

   Stacy falls off the couch and yells, "Fucking hell, a mother fucking
monster!"

   The lights go on, Mom and Lizzy are awake, Stacy is on the floor topless
and moving enough so her boobs never stop jiggling which makes me harder.

   Mom yells, "What the hell is going on?  Stacy, where is your bra?  Put
something on."

   Stacy ignores mom, "You won't believe what your son is packing?"

   Mom asks, "Put something on.  What are you babbling about?"

   Stacy looks at me, "You tell them about the monster I found on the
couch."

   I turn towards Lizzy and mom, "There is a reason why women like to ..."

   While I wasn't looking at Stacy, she moves behind me and in a very quick
move, she pulls my boxers down and my fully erect cock is pointing out and
up.  They go silent as they stare at me.

   I continue my sentence, "...  spend the night here.  They enjoy the
pounding I provide."

   Lizzy says, "That thing would scare me.  No woman can take a thing like
that."

   Mom boasts, "Oh please.  It's not that big.  I would say average."

   Stacy isn't buying that story, "Oh yeah?  So, you could take a full hard
thrust that goes balls deep from that thing right now?"

   Mom is more cautious now, "Yes I could.  I am out of shape but yes, it
wouldn't be so hard to take that thing in one swift penetration.  It
doesn't matter, he is my son."

   I grin, "Mom, I am calling bullshit on this one.  I have had some loose
women but nobody and I mean nobody takes me balls deep on the first thrust.
If you really think you can then get your ass over here and let me prove
you wrong."

   Mom stood still.

   Lizzy laughs, "I thought so.  That thing is a beast.  It could rip you
up inside."

   Mom then steps forward, pulls her panties down, sits on the edge of the
bed, and says, "You are bigger than your dad but no way that hurts like you
think it will.  I am an older, more experienced woman.  I eat things like
this for breakfast."

   Mom stands up, turns around, and puts her forearms on the bed and
spreads her legs for me to enter her.  I have anger flowing through my
veins.  I move so mom is in front of me; my sisters are at my side, mouths
open staring in awe.  I place my tip at her entrance with only the tip
inside the slightly spread lips.  I jump up and forward a bit so that as I
come down, I am using the weight of my body to force my cock into my
mother's tight cunt.

   Mom screams into the provided pillow.  It is a haunting scream of agony.
Instantly, the smirk on her face shifts to tears.  The pillow goes behind
her head and I continue removing and thrusting my cock into my mother. 
It's more muscle memory than a conscious effort to fuck her.  I have tunnel
vision and the only thing in my world is my cock pounding her pussy and
it's taking a beating.  Her whimpering is now moans and some grunts.  She
is enjoying this.  She is a slut.

   She took that initial thrust of pain just to goat me into fucking her.
She really does want to be my slave in all phases of life.  Her face turns
red.  That's good, I am close to spurting a load into my mother.  A few
more extra hard thrusts and I am shooting four ropes of cum into my mother.
As I shoot she orgasms and goes limp.  No scream, all fight is gone.  She
endured a lot tonight.  Her eyes are closing slowly, she is tired.

   Both sisters are looking at me.  They want something.  I nod towards
Lizzy.  She dives into mom and proceeds to clean out my cum.  She flaunts
the delicacy over to Stacy.  I drag mom up to the bed and Lizzy cuddles
mom.

   Lizzy says to me, "I will make sure she is ok, you get some sleep."

   I go to bed and fall asleep quickly even though I am still furious at
myself.



   to be continued....

   For pics visit ---->> https://bit.ly/2ReHUJI