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   Ahead From The Past

   by The Purvv & sourdough

   ------ Synopsis: On New Year's Eve 2002 something happened to 50 year
old Philip but he doesn't know what.  What he does know is he's awakened
from a coma, his mind is in the body of 11 year old Paul and it's 1953. 
How does he deal with being thrust back into the past?  He has a beautiful
mother and 4 equally attractive sisters.  Why does he have these
irresistable urges to dominate them sexually?
Codes: MF mf mF TimeTr harem 1st teen cons pedo mag inc mother son bro
sis tg Mdom humil oral preg

   ------

   Chapter 1

   He lay in his hospital bed surrounded by this group that called him Paul
and said that they were his family.  They were all there visiting him. 
There was Peter and Yvonne, his 'mom and dad' and his four 'sisters': Ann,
Elizabeth, Carol and Debbie.

   It had been a month since he came out of the coma.  And still he hadn't
been able to come up with even a remote explanation for what had transpired
to date.

   He wasn't Paul, he was sure, but if he was really who he thought that he
was, then what was the explanation for all of this?

   The last thing that he remembered before coming out of the coma was a
night on New Year's Eve, 2002.  He had been celebrating with his wife Mary
and their best friends Ed and Sarah.

   'What had happened?' he asked himself for the hundredth time.  He was a
grown man of 50 years of age, married with two grown-up kids.  A
grandfather, for God's sake!  He had lived a half of century.  Where had it
gone?  Where did his family and friends go?  Where did he, Philip Grady,
go?

   Everything about him now was not logical.  The only answer to it all was
that he was now in a dream.  As impossible as that sounded to him, he kept
returning to that thought.  There couldn't be any other explanation.  Yet,
he also knew that THIS WAS NOT A DREAM!  Anyone who felt and saw things as
he did could not be dreaming.  These people here were real flesh and blood.
The bed under him, the lights in the room, the antiseptic smell...  all of
these were real.

   But if this was real then the other, the past, was not.  If that was so,
then today was really February 3, 1953 and the past was the dream.  There
was no Beatles, no JFK, no 'Nam, no 'Slick Willie', no wife or kids, no
job...  nothing...  a dream.

   That too is impossible, he told himself.

   Paul...  Until an answer came, then for the retention of his own sanity,
he would answer to the name of and become - - Paul.  He had no memory of
such but the doctors told his 'family' and himself that his memory could
come back gradually, all at once or not at all.  They spent the month
telling him of themselves and him trying to revive the missing links.

   In the beginning he tried to tell them all of who he really was but they
brushed it off quickly to fantasy dreams.  After a few futile days and deep
thought he decided that it would be best that he not tell anymore because
he would not be believed and if he was insistent enough, they would
probably have him committed to a mental institution.  From what he
remembered, that's what they did in the '50s.

   He was sure that he could predict many things that were going to occur
but he felt that it was probably too dangerous a thing to do.  He would be
in a 'nut house' before anything actually happened and when (and if) it
did, no one would remember that he told them.  Even if they did, they would
probably pass it off as a fluke.

   He was sure that the safest thing would be to become Paul; an
11-year-old boy who was hit by a car and hospitalized with head damage. 
The doctors said that they did as much as they could for him and they were
getting ready to send him 'home'; home to his family.  Except this family
consisted of a mother and father that were young enough to be his kids. 
His 'father' was only 31 and his 'mom' only 29.  Yvonne must have been
'knocked-up', Paul figured, and forced to get married.  From what he pieced
together his sister Debbie was the oldest child at 13.  That would have
made his mother only 16 at the time of Debbie's birth.

   Apparently, youth had more passion than brains as Peter and Yvonne had
their five kids very quickly.  After Debbie came Carol at 12, followed by
Paul.  Bringing up the rear was Elizabeth at 10 and Ann at 9.

   If nothing else this had to be the most beautiful group of girls he had
ever seen.  As for the girls, one was prettier than the next.  Paul noted
that it was interesting that none wore any make-up.  That was apparently
taboo in the 50s.  However, none of them needed it.  If anything, make-up
may have distracted from their beauty.

   Paul thought that they got their looks from their mother; although Peter
was a good looking guy too.  Yvonne however, was a stunning beauty.  Tall
and slim, which was surprising considering that she had endured the
childbirth of five kids; she would have attracted the most discerning of
men.  She had shoulder length blonde hair crowning an angelic face and, in
addition, Paul noticed that she had a figure which could have adorned
Vogue. Peter had made quite a catch, Paul noted.

   Somehow, the young couple not only managed but they actually had a
successful marriage.  They had managed to make it to the ultimate goal of
most married couples of the era; they had a house in the suburbs, although
they referred to it as 'the country'.  Paul sensed that the luster had worn
off the marriage, but they still kept up a good front.  He felt that he
could see much more tenseness beneath the surface than could be detected by
the others.  After all, he really had been around a lot longer.

   In the hospital bathroom he now prepared to get himself ready to go
home. Before dressing in the clothes that they brought for him to wear, he
looked at his naked self in the mirror.  He did not recognize the face of
this boy looking back at him.  But yet he was that face!

   As he got ready to put on his underpants he again looked with shock at
his cock.  To be sure his other self was small in this area but, even so,
what he now had boggled his mind.  Only 11 years old and already he had at
least two more inches on him than when he was the adult Philip Grady.  And
what blew his mind now was the thought of the hugeness that it transformed
to when it became large.  This had happened a couple of times when he had
to piss.  He was sure that it reached over 8 inches.  And he was still a
growing boy.  At least some good might come of this.  With a pecker this
big he could rule the world, he smiled to himself.

   His family was treating him as a partial amnesia victim.  Thus, when
they reached the house, they gently guided him through the layout while
explaining to him who went where.  Debbie and Ann had one bedroom together
as did Carol and Elizabeth.  He had his own while his mom and dad had the
master bedroom.

   The doctors had told the family that he was to rest and not to try to do
too much in the beginning.  Yvonne and Peter helped him upstairs.  His mom
instructed him to get into bed and relax.  After they had left him alone
Paul undressed all the way down to his shorts.  Apparently he didn't own
any 'undershirts' or pajamas.  He got under the covers and lay down.

   Again, as in every day since he first awoke last month, his mind reran
all of the recent events through his mind.  He began to silently cry... 
like a little boy, not like a 50 year old.  Oh, God...  what's happened? 
Would he ever know the answer?  At about 5 in the afternoon he drifted off
into a deep sleep.



   ------

   Chapter 2

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   Paul was screaming at the top of his lungs and his mother, Debbie and
Ann came running up the stairs.  As they approached his bed he again let
out a cry, "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   Yvonne shook him awake lightly, but firmly, trying not to scare him. 
Fear was in his eyes as he focused his look around the room.

   "It's okay, baby, it's okay." His mom was sitting alongside of him now
and her arm was around him.  She kept repeating, "It's okay," trying to
soothe him.  His oldest sister Debbie was holding his hand tightly while
little Ann stood looking at him.  She looked frightened for him.

   He had another nightmare.  He'd had at least one a day since the day
that he came out of the coma.  He was reacting just as a child of eleven
would; his body was trembling violently.  His mother and older sister held
him tightly, waiting until his shaking finally subsided.  "I'm sorry... 
I...  I had another..."

   "I know, baby.  It's okay," Yvonne repeated again.  "It's okay."

   After about five minutes, he began to calm down completely.

   The rest of the family had been out together.  When they returned they
came up to his room to see what was going on.  Peter suggested that Paul
throw on a robe and come downstairs with the rest of the family.

   "The girls can take care of you.  And I can stay up here and get some
sleep."

   Paul realized that Peter had been up a long time and he needed to sleep
as he worked the midnight to 8 a.m.  shift.  He asked his 'dad' to help him
downstairs.  The girls left to go down while Paul donned a robe.

   Paul continued to familiarize himself with the house.  Downstairs in the
living room that night he and the girls listened to the standing radio. 
Strange, not having television, Paul thought.  Many other things, foreign
to him, were happening around him.  He saw things that he had forgotten had
existed; a way of life that he had forgotten about.

   Paul had been constantly thinking of his situation and what it all meant
and how and if it would all end.  Somewhere during this past month, he also
became aware of other certain things.

   First, that no matter where he was, at this point he was 11 years old.
He thought like a man but his emotions were of the boy.  Second, he was not
really related to these people.  Maybe Paul was, but he wasn't.

   Then there were the girls.  He couldn't help or explain his feelings for
them.  Yvonne may have been his mother but she was mentally 20 years
younger than him.  Secretly, he felt a strong desire that he knew he
wouldn't be allowed to display.

   Debbie was young enough to be his granddaughter but there seemed to be a
youthful sexual attraction for this blossoming 13-year-old beauty within
his 11-year-old body and mind.

   He didn't understand and couldn't explain his feelings to himself.  He
had never been one to roam or cheat on his wife.  Yet, at least three times
in the past month, he had become somewhat aroused by one or the other of
the girls.  Why did he now have these strange urges lurking within him?

   Could the fact that his manhood was so big have anything to do with his
inner stirrings?  Even touching himself when going to the bathroom seemed
to have a sexual effect on him.  His cock had never been so sensitive
before.  He even used to get blow jobs from his wife and wasn't able to
cum. Now, just his touch on his huge pecker brought a semi-arousal.  He was
actually ultra sensitive.

   He had a fear of his body's reactions around these people.  Because the
girls were completely at home with their brother, their guard was
definitely down.  His eyes occasionally caught a glimpse of revealing
flesh. Once, Debbie bent and he could see her bare breast under her robe.
He turned his eyes away quickly but he felt himself stir somewhat.  He knew
that he was going to have to be very careful with his thinking.  Look, but
don't touch.  This was a different era than he was used to, he told
himself, so be careful.

   Nonetheless, he couldn't help looking at these girls.  Their beauty was
outstanding and he couldn't help himself from being a male.  At various
times during the night one or another showed a little leg.  He also saw
more of his sisters than he had during that whole month in the hospital.

   That night when he went to bed Paul remembered the young breast that he
had seen.  As he thought of it, his cock rose to its full length.  Unable
to control himself he fantasized about himself with Debbie, while he beat
his pecker into submission.

   Afterward, he swore that he would avoid looking at the girls in any way
other than his sisters.



   ------

   Chapter 3

   It was about midnight a week later when the night was shattered with,

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   "YEEEEAHHHHHH!"

   All the girls but Elizabeth awoke and along with Yvonne they came
rushing to his cries.  The nightmares had gone away for a few days but were
back with a vengeance.  The girls stood around helplessly as their mother
hugged and rocked him, "It's okay, okay...  It's okay baby...  It's okay,
sweetheart."

   He was shaking in her comforting arms.  She kept whispering her
assurances to him as she rocked him.  As his trembling began to slow down
she told the girls, "Go ahead to bed.  He'll be all right.  Go ahead."

   After a few seconds of looking, first at Paul and then at each other,
they began to file out to their own bedrooms.  "'Night ma, night Paulie"

   "'Night girls," Yvonne said as she continued to hug and rock Paul.

   "'N-n-night!" Paul called.

   Yvonne held on to her son for at least ten minutes after the shaking
stopped.  As he lay in her arms, he felt the softness of her body.  Once he
began to calm down he also began to become aware of the sweet smell of this
woman.  A warm feeling began within his crotch.

   "Think you can go back to sleep now sweetheart?" she asked.  She still
held him in her arms.

   "I don't know...  I guess so," he said hesitantly, and then added,
"I-I'm a-afraid mom...  I'm...  scared"

   "It's okay, baby.  Go to sleep," she said.  Then, almost as an
afterthought, she asked, "Would you feel better coming in by Mommy?  Would
you wanna sleep in with me?"

   "C-c-can I?" he stammered.

   Yvonne released him, arose and started from the room, at the same time
saying, "Sure honey, come on."

   He didn't even bother to throw a robe over his shorts.  She had seen him
like this all of his life, he thought.  He quickly was following in her
footsteps.  By the time that he reached her bed she was already in it.  She
raised the sheet to admit him entrance with her beneath it.

   Up until that minute, the boy didn't take any notice of what his mother
was wearing.  As she held the sheet up for him, Paul got a quick but
telling look.  Yvonne was only in a slip.  From what he saw, she probably
was not wearing a bra.  He was able to see the top of her chest and the
beginnings of the two mounds of flesh.

   When he lay down, she dropped the sheet over him.  It then covered them
both.  Yvonne then kissed and turned her back to her son.  She reached out
and shut off the lamp that was on the night table.

   "Goodnight baby," she called over her shoulder to him as she rested on
her side with her back to him.  Her buttocks were almost touching his hip.

   "'Night mom," he whispered.

   Within a few minutes Yvonne was asleep.

   Not Paul.  He was on his back with his eyes wide open.  The room was lit
only by the moonlight shining in from the window.  Soon he was able to make
out shadows.

   His mouth was dry.  He had to swallow to bring any moisture to it.  As
he lay there, his mind began to work overtime.  Here he was lying alongside
this beautiful woman whom he had been fascinated with for the past month.
He had stolen peek after peek at her fantastic body.  Her long hair and
beautiful face held him in awe.

   His heart was pounding.  The boy wanted to turn and touch her but he was
afraid that if he did that she would react negatively and he would be back
in his room...  Pronto!  He gently moved about, until his hip was touching
Yvonne's buttocks.  He felt the heat from her body through his underpants.
His cock began to involuntarily rise.

   He had noticed that because of the size of his cock it was somewhat
painful and uncomfortable when he got a hard-on.  This was no exception. 
To relieve the pressure he reached his hand down and grabbed at his cock.
It jumped in his hand.  He released the flesh from its confinement by
pulling it through the slit in his shorts.

   The secretiveness of this movement by now found his hands slightly
trembling.

   He was sure that she was now asleep and he wanted badly to touch this
woman's body.  Ever so gently Paul rolled over onto his side, pressing but
barely touching against his mother.  His cock was now reaching full force.

   After waiting about a minute to make sure that he hadn't disturbed her,
he softly laid his arm over hers.  Then, his hand was lying over her breast
but not touching it.  Her breathing remained easy.  The 11-year-old's heart
was pounding heavily in his chest.

   Again he waited to make sure that she wasn't moving.  When he was sure
that she was still asleep, he gently pushed his hips forward.  He was
beside himself with fear but he was unable to control his sexual desires.

   Then, his freed cock was lightly touching his mother's slip at the
juncture at the bottom of her buttocks, where her legs met with her pussy.
The slick feeling of the silk against his flesh caused his cock to jump. 
His heart was really pounding by now.

   He pushed his stomach against her back, pushing hard into the vacantness
of the silk, at the hollow spot just below the buttocks.  His cock actually
felt the heat from between her legs.  He was touching her.  A spurt of cum
shot from the youngster's piss hole and he had to fight from groaning out
loud.

   Yvonne had slowly awakened.  She felt the warmth of the arm over hers
and the body pressing against hers.

   "Peter?"

   Paul lay silent, too petrified to move.  However, he couldn't control
the jumping in his loins as his pecker twitched.

   As she became fully conscious, she realized that it wasn't her husband
that was pressing against her, but her son.  Now that she was awake she
knew that it couldn't have been Peter.  He had quit on her over a year ago.
And she was pretty sure that her rival wasn't a woman.

   For a few minutes she enjoyed the warmth of her son's body pressing
against hers.  Then suddenly she stiffened, realizing that, in addition to
his body, she also felt a hard pressure pressing between her closed legs.
'Oh my God, ' she thought.

   Yvonne was frozen in panic.  She realized that she had awakened thinking
that it was her husband and she also knew that it was easy enough for her
to be mistaken.  Her son was actually twice as big as her husband.  Over
the years she had taken notice and assumed he had inherited his traits from
her side of the family.  The size of her grandfather was legendary.

   She was just about to pull away from the boy when suddenly she stopped.
She now felt the twitching of his cock and she held in place.  She too was
now in a panic.  She could tell that her son had a hard-on.  She also felt
the heat from his body.  As wrong as it was, strangely enough, somehow it
still felt good.

   She remembered that she had been having a dream.  She felt somewhat
ashamed because the dream was of her having sex with Cary Grant.  She was
still somewhat warm from the dream.  As she lay there, she realized that
her son's pressing body probably caused her to have the dream.

   'Oh God no...  ' she thought to herself.  'This can't be happening a
second time in my life.' She was in a frenzy because she couldn't make
herself pull away.  As a matter of fact, she pushed back on him.

   It had been over a year since she had sex with her husband Peter and she
really missed it.  Up until that time, from the time that she was 13, she
was sexually active; first with her father and then with her future
husband. And she was usually the one to instigate the nightly bouts with
Peter.  Maybe it wasn't 'lady-like' but she couldn't help her feelings. 
She really loved having sex.  And now she had been deprived for such a long
time.

   She swallowed hard and was fighting the silent inner feelings that were
urging her on to what would be the biggest sin of all.  At least with her
father it was he that started it.

   His cock twitched again.  This time she relaxed at the feeling and
pushed back harder on the boy's cock.  'Maybe this is inherited too, ' she
thought.  She heard a very, very silent moan come from the boy.  She felt a
tremendous heat within her body.  She was going to give in to this
depravity.  She didn't want to help herself.  She wanted and missed having
cock.  Now she badly wanted to feel one.

   Her hand reached behind.  She inched her body forward so that her hand
could get between them.  It lowered down to where she had felt the
twitching.  Gently her open hand reached out and grabbed at the throbbing
mass.

   "NNNNNNGGGGGGG!" he moaned loudly now.  She felt all the wetness on her
slip and on the tip of the boy's prick.

   She was excited now.  She had never envisioned feeling a prick this
large again.  Her father's was about the same size.  She squeezed on the
shaft while her finger reached at the tip and rubbed the pre-cum.

   "Oooooooo, mama..." he suddenly spoke in the semi-darkness.

   "Oh baby...  it's...  it's all right..." she whispered.  She held him
firmly as she turned over to face him.  "It's...  okay baby...  I'm not
gonna...  Does this feel good?"

   They were now face to face.  Passion was showing wildly in each of their
faces.  His hand had moved down and now was just over her breast.  "OHH
Yeah ma...  yeah..." His fingers slipped inside the top of her slip and
captured the flesh of her beautiful tit.

   Yvonne now moaned also.

   Looking wildly into each other's eyes, their mouths suddenly attacked
each other.  With their lips open and tongues meeting and intermingling,
they were each sucking frantically on the other's mouth.

   The nipple of his mother's tit was hard and protruded into the palm of
his hand as his fingers squeezed roughly on the mass of flesh.

   Yvonne's hand was squeezing and rubbing along the length of his huge
prick, down to his balls, and back again.  She couldn't remember when she
had ever been so hot.  She felt completely wanton.  She wanted sex with her
son.  She wanted his big cock.  She wanted to teach it the 'facts of life'.

   "I love you...  I...  love you...  mama," he spoke into her pursuing
mouth.

   Then she pulled her mouth from his.  Almost in a panic she silently
screamed, "Take your shorts off baby...  hurry...  it's okay...  mama's
gonna show you.  I love you too sweetheart.  Take them off honey...  now...
hurry..."

   They both were then quickly stripping what little they had on from their
bodies.  And just as quick they were again facing each other.  Only this
time the raw nakedness of the two frantic bodies had them completely out of
their mind with passion.

   Again kissing, this time he pushed on her until she lay on her back. 
Their naked bodies were grinding against each other.  His hand again
squeezed at the flesh of her breast.

   Suddenly, she pushed his face from hers.  She looked deep into his eyes
and saw what she felt was the same wild abandonment that she was feeling.
Holding his ears in her palms she pushed on his head leading him down her
body.  "Ohhhmmmm baby...  kiss me...  kiss mama..."

   His lips and tongue worked their way down over her beautiful chest,
pausing to kiss and nibble at one tit and then to suck on the other.  His
hands were rubbing her flesh at random.  As his mouth was going lower he
arose to his knees and he began turning his body, reversing its position.

   Her fingers almost lunged out and grasped his young cock.  As his tongue
was riding over the flesh of her quivering belly she was pulling him up
closer to her mouth.  The scent of raw sex was blasting out from her cunt.
The wonderful smell was intoxicating.  He couldn't get down fast enough to
put his mouth onto her mound.  "NNNNNGGGGGGGG...  OOOOOO!" she cried.

   As his mouth began closing on her wet pussy she felt her body begin its
first spasm.  Her hips pushed toward the boy's face.

   The feelings that his sucking and licking generated caused her to begin
to fuck his mouth.  At the same time the sight of his huge pecker was
driving her wild.  She was at the complete mercy of him.  She'd do whatever
he wanted.  She wanted so bad to suck on him.

   Then her mouth was opening and she was accepting all of his flesh. 
"OHHHH Maaaaaaa!" She didn't know why but she loved the taste of cock and
cum in her mouth; all the way back to her father.  The massiveness of her
son's cock had her head spinning.  She wanted as much of his flesh in her
mouth as he could push in.

   They were both at the edge of climax.  Both mother and son were moaning
and sputtering.  Both of their bodies were involuntarily fucking furiously
up at the other's mouth.  Her legs were trembling from the spasms that
shook through her and suddenly he was tensing.  His cock was cumming. 
Spurt after spurt was shooting into her wonderful mouth and down her
throat.

   "Oooohhh...  nnnnggg, I'm...  oh, OHH, OOOOHHHH!!!" he cried.

   Even after he was fully spent, she was still fucking at his mouth.  He
tasted the saltiness in her pussy as her whole body shook and her thighs
tightly squeezed his head.  She was moaning into his cock.  He couldn't
imagine any woman being any hotter.  As her spasms overtook her, she was
babbling, kissing and licking at his cock, which had temporarily shrunk.

   Now as her wanton reckless abandonment continued, its effect on him was
amazing.  As the last of the final spasms shot through her body, the
passion she exuded caused his prick to begin to rise again under the
manipulation of her tongue and lips.

   As her body relaxed she whispered, "Come up here, Paulie...  come...  my
baby..."

   He turned and raised himself up to his mother, his lower body in between
her parted legs.  He was over her but he didn't apply pressure upon her
body.  Their faces were again inches apart.  His hands reached out and each
clasped a breast.

   A satisfied look was on her face and she managed a small smile, "Are you
okay baby?  I...  I..."

   Yvonne felt guilty as hell for taking advantage of the boy.  She wanted
to apologize.  She would have liked to explain.  Yet, looking up at him,
she saw a strange look in his eyes.  She sensed a maturity.

   His legs were between hers and his fingers continued squeezing her
breasts.  They felt so good.

   His mouth broke off her talking as he kissed down lightly on her lips.
She wanted to stop now.  She knew that she should.  Yet she felt the rising
of his cock under her and she knew that his passion needed to be satisfied
totally.  She also realized that she too wanted total fulfillment from this
man-child.  She kissed him back lightly and enjoyed the feeling of his
hands, mouth and body upon her flesh.

   "I love you ma..." he spoke at her open mouth.  His hips were beginning
to move between her legs, pushing gently down and then relaxing.  Then
repeating.  His cock was back to its hardened full length.  It was rubbing
against the hairs of her pussy and she was starting to feel its effects.

   Her hands went up behind his head and played in his hair.  "I love you
too baby...  I love you too." she murmured.  Her quivering lips attached to
his and she shot her tongue deep into the boy's mouth.  She felt him tense
his body and his prick jumped against her.

   Then their mouths were pressing deeper into each other as her hands
tightened on his head.  She was pulling his face into hers as their wet
mouths worked together.

   Silent moans were coming from both mother and son as his pumping
increased between her legs.  She too then began rotating her hips into his.
As they clutched each other their naked hips were grinding hotly.  Their
tongues were wildly pushing in and out of the other's mouth.

   "Baby...  baby...  baby..." Yvonne was again alive with the same frantic
passion that she had felt earlier.  She desperately wanted that cock in
her. She wanted badly to feel the enormity of it.  Her hands slid down from
his head and went quickly over his back and immediately grabbed her son's
hard pumping buttocks.

   "Ma, oh mama...  it's..." he said frantically.  Her mouth quickly sucked
his mouth back down to hers.

   Then her bucking frame enlarged under him.  Her legs opened wider. 
There was nothing that she wanted more than to have her son's big cock
inside her.  The tip was at the entrance of her pussy.

   He looked down into her face.  He couldn't believe the look of utter
wanton passion showing.  Her desperate clutching at him had him in a
frenzy. His cock slowly began to penetrate past the lips of his mother's
cunt.  Her legs opened even wider as she moaned very loud.  "OHHHHH... 
ooooo...  Paul...  P-P-...  oh honey, put...  it's okay honey...  put it...
oh please Paul put it in me...  yeah...  yeah...  like that...  deeper...
deeEEEPPPEERRR.  OOOOOOOO, oh baby fuck me!  Fuck me!"

   By now his cock had entered all the way to the depths of her pussy.  He
groaned as it made its initial entrance deep into the wet hole.  His cock
felt like it was ten times its normal size and her cunt felt like the
hottest most wonderful thing that he had ever felt.  Her hands were pulling
and releasing on his pounding buttocks.  Her legs then wrapped themselves
tightly around him and her hands rose to his back.  She was clutching
desperately at his back with her legs clinging tightly to him.  She was
bucking up and down wantonly, meeting each of his frantic thrusts with her
own.

   "Mammmmmaaaa ooooo mmmmmmaaaaaaa H'mmmmmm Cummmmmmmmnnnnggg"

   They were both in a world beyond, as spasms rumbled through her body and
load after load shot from his pulsating cock deep into her waiting puss.

   "Babbbbbby...  bbbaaby...  oooooo...  fuuuuccck I-I- OHH it's SO SOOOD!
Cum in me...  cum in Mommy...  cum like my daddy...  !!!!!" she cried as
the two of them drained off the last of their passion.

   ------

   Paul rolled off of his mother and lay alongside her.  He was breathing
heavily.  It had been a breathtaking experience.  She had been great.  He
closed his eyes and rested.  In the semi darkness he heard her silently
sobbing.

   Yvonne tried to sort out her thinking and her feelings of guilt.  For
years she had been having sex with her father.  It all ended with the birth
of their son, Paul, who was actually named after his father AND
GRANDFATHER.

   When she had her baby boy her husband guessed the truth.  Upon his
lengthy questioning she confessed the truth.  He supposedly forgave her. 
Indeed, they even had two more girls afterward.  However, that was the
beginning of the end of their marriage, even though since that time she had
been totally faithful to her husband.  Until tonight!

   Yvonne wished that she had the night to do over again.  She thought of
herself as some sort of monster.  She was to blame for it all; her father
and her son.  Her love for them both never allowed for the option that they
were the aggressors.  In her mind it was her.

   Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.

   As Paul began to fall into a semi sleep his mind recalled the wonderful
night.  And then he thought, 'What was that she had said about her father?'
Did she really have sex with his grandfather Paul?  The thought fascinated
him.  He wondered how often it may have happened for a girl to be fucked by
both her father and her son.

   He heard her sobbing as he fell into a deep sleep.



   ------

   Chapter 4

   At that time his sister Debbie was also tossing about in her bed.  She
vaguely heard the sounds of faint moans and desperate cries, and tried to
pinpoint the exact sounds and location, but by the time that she had become
totally awake, they had stopped.  She looked over to her sister Ann, who
was sound asleep in the other bed.  The only thing that Debbie could relate
the sounds to was that night a long time ago when she found her mother and
father going at it.  It was Debbie's first and only experience with sex
between two people.  She had been fascinated at the pleasure that her
mother seemed to derive from her father on top of her.

   The sounds of this night were similar, though far in the distance. 
However, it couldn't be the same, she reasoned, because her father was
working.  When after five minutes or more after the last sound she didn't
hear anything further, she decided that she really hadn't heard a thing. 
Then she fell back to sleep.

   ------

   Debbie awoke at shortly after 7 a.m.  to get ready for school.  She
arose and went into the hall to go to the bathroom.  Her brother Paul was
just coming from her mother and father's room.

   Paul immediately looked edgy.

   "Hi Paulie, how ya feeling?" she asked.

   "I-I-I'm okay...  I-I just stopped in to tell mom something..." he said
before heading quickly to his own bedroom.

   ------

   At breakfast it was only the girls and their mother.  Beth happened to
wonder how their brother was.  Debbie mentioned that she had seen him in
the morning coming out of mom's room and that he had said that he was fine.

   Yvonne then volunteered, "He had a little bit of a bad night.  He had
another nightmare.  I...  had to...  er...  have him stay by me for the
night so he could get back to sleep."

   All but Debbie continued with the normal morning's conversation.  None
of them noticed her sudden silence.  Could those cries have been her
brother's?  And the moans...  were they just the sounds of him whimpering
in his sleep?  But why did Paul look so funny and why did he say that he
just stopped in to see their mother?  A nagging voice of reason was talking
to her.  And the more she recalled the sounds of the night; she started to
question what it was she had heard.  She then remembered what she
associated the sounds with last night.  The only other time that she had
heard something similar was that night between her mother and father.  But
she now knew that was sex.  And her father wasn't home last night.

   During the rest of the day at school Debbie's memory returned to the
night sounds.  The more she thought of everything...  No, that would be...
she finally told herself.  Awful!  Besides, real people don't do that, no
matter what her girlfriend Mary Ellen had told her in the past.  Her sharp
mind was still working.  And even incest wasn't done between a mother and
son, she thought.  Father and daughter, maybe; or brother and sister,
maybe; but not mother and son.

   Yet, with what little the 13-year-old girl knew about sex, Debbie did
make some valid observations.  During her brother's hospitalization there
were a couple of times that she noticed that he was aroused.  She also
followed his eyes during those incidents.

   One time she became acutely aware that while sitting in the big chair in
the hospital room, her mom's skirt had pulled up above the knees.  Paul's
eyes seemed to be looking intensely at their mother's legs and even seemed
to be searching her breasts.  Debbie couldn't help but notice the lump in
his hospital pull-over pajamas.

   Debbie hated herself for even thinking these thoughts.  She tried to
push them out of her mind.  She would have to go to church to clean her
mind.  It was dirty.  She hated Mary Ellen for ever telling her those
things that are supposedly done in other people's houses.  They couldn't be
true.

   ------

   During the next few days there was a strange tension around the house.
Not everyone noticed but it was definitely in the air.  Yvonne and Peter
were as distant as they had been for the past year, but that wasn't all.

   Yvonne had spoken at length with Paul, telling him how awful it was for
her to have seduced him.  She said that she was an awful person and told
him that it mustn't happen anymore.  Knowing that he was considered to be
an 11-year-old child, Paul refrained from trying to convince her that it
was all right and that they should continue with the elicit relationship.
Hopefully, she would weaken again...  he'd try to make sure of that.

   There was a nervous tension between the two.  Both had some apprehension
that the other one might say something to a third party.  Each of them knew
if that happened, all hell would break loose.

   Debbie sensed the additional tension between those two.  She had felt
the uneasiness between her mother and father and now this nervousness that
she could read on her mom and brother had her even more confused.  As more
and more secret glances passed between Paul and her mom, Debbie became more
and more suspicious.

   She kept thinking back to that night and she was convinced that was the
cause of the discomfit between the two.  She thought more and more of the
sounds that she had heard and her mind also kept returning to what she had
observed in the hospital.  Try as she may she couldn't eradicate the
thought that kept returning to her...  Incest!

   In addition, she began having trouble sleeping properly at night.  She
began thinking of that night so long ago of her mom and pop.  Now her mind
began playing tricks and she pictured her brother, Paul, being on her
mother instead of her father.  As she visualized this, she felt strong
feelings in her female area; strange stirrings.  Then she found her hand
traveling over her body and slipping inside of her panties.  As she
pictured her brother and mother, she also began to rub herself where she
was stirring.  The picture in her mind intensified and she furiously worked
herself to completion.  These were the first times in her life that she
masturbated.

   She also found herself thinking of Paul more and more.  She remembered
seeing his 'thing' about six months ago and was fascinated and scared of
its enormity.  He was still staying at home all day.  His parents had
bought him a robe, which he wore over his shorts.  However, at nights when
he laid on the floor listening to the radio, Debbie couldn't help but
notice that the robe was quite open at the bottom.  She also found that she
was extremely curious and couldn't stop herself from sneaking peeks to try
to look under the robe.

   Only once was she successful.

   That night she was shocked to find that Paul didn't have any shorts on.
At one point she got a complete look at his full cock.  She became totally
flustered and went upstairs to bed, after making excuses that she was
tired. Once undressed and in bed, her fingers immediately attacked her
young pussy.  Her mind was going wild over what she had seen.

   This was the first time that she began fantasizing that Paul's prick was
entering into her.  The thought drove her wild and her fingers drove her
pussy wild.  The spasms that shook her that night convinced her that she
needed to go a step further with sex.

   The young girl was terribly ashamed for what she was thinking.  She also
knew that she really did have these terrible urges rumbling within her
13-year-old body.  And she was a realist to admit to herself that it was
Paulie's cock that held that terrible, forbidden fascination.  She had
never seen another cock except for her dad's on that night month's ago. 
Paul's was a massive piece of manhood.  She honestly desired to hold it in
her hands and to feel its flesh.

   When she awoke, her thoughts had calmed.  She swore that she would never
look at her brother again.  She was determined to fight those awful
thoughts that had run through her mind the night before.

   Unfortunately for the girl, the time of sexual awareness was upon her.
Even at school she found herself slip a few times into the realm of
dreamland.  In her English class she found her eyes looking at Mr. 
Bender's crotch.  He was the best looking teacher in the school and she now
began thinking of him as a man rather than a teacher.

   Johnny Acetetto was the 'school hunk' in her 8th grade class.  When he
got up in class to answer Mr.  Potter's questions Debbie again found her
eyes searching the crotch of a male body.  She knew what was in those
pants. The thought ran through her mind.  The cock that she envisioned
belonged to her brother Paul.  At one point while thinking to herself, she
found her hips moving on the chair.  Before she realized what had happened
she found her panties dotted with moisture that had oozed from her agitated
pussy.  She began shaking and filling up with fear.  What was happening to
her?

   After school she couldn't get home fast enough to please herself.  She
went immediately to her bedroom and as soon as Ann left the room, Debbie
began crying softly into the pillow.  She was depressed with herself.

   As the week went by Paul began to feel both relaxed and uptight; relaxed
because he was becoming convinced that Yvonne was not going to say anything
to her husband about their romp, and uptight because of the feelings within
his body.  As a fifty-year-old with a midget cock he rarely had any sexual
urgings and when they did come they were mild...  compared to now.  He
didn't know if it was because he was in this young body or because a cock
so big needed to be attended to more than others but, no matter...  he was
now thinking of sex more than at any time in his life.

   And by her actions Yvonne was clearly sending him a message that a
similar episode was not going to reoccur.

   He had enough sense not to fight but he couldn't help but to steal looks
at his mom when she wasn't looking.  Now that he had her, Paul wanted her
even more.  Every curve on her body enticed him.  Her beauty captured his
brain.  Any exposed flesh that he caught in his eyes caused some movement
in his crotch area.  He wanted her again badly.  He was never like this
before but the sex that he had was so great that he HAD to have sex again.
He felt like he would burst if he didn't.

   On the night that Debbie saw him he indeed was not wearing any shorts.
That happened to be the result of his coming in his pants that night upon
being able to sneak a peak up his mother's skirt.  The sight of the flesh
of her thighs made him harden and shoot a load involuntarily in his pants.
He had to take them off downstairs in a hurry and hide them in his pocket.
The bathroom had been occupied.

   He hadn't realized that his robe had opened at the bottom until he
looked up and saw his sister.  Her eyes were wide open and were staring at
his crotch.  It was then that he realized that she could see him.  She was
so involved that she didn't even notice that he saw what she was looking
at. After a sneak look around the room, making sure that nobody was able to
see, Paul opened his legs wider.  Knowing his sister was gaping at his
pecker, he began to harden.  As his cock started rising, Debbie got up
quickly and rushed to her room.

   The feelings for his mom coupled with the knowledge that his older
sister had looked so hard at his cock made him rise fully.  As soon as
Debbie went upstairs Paul quickly followed and went to his own room.  His
cock was inflamed.  He began stroking it up and down.  He thought of his
mom's hot flesh.  Just as he was cumming he closed his eyes and pictured
his sister's face with her wide open eyes.  He imagined that she was
looking at his cock now as he was stroking.  As the cum was shooting out he
pictured her mouth slightly parted while she licked her lips.

   He stopped wearing underwear that night.  He figured that whenever he
could he would partially bare himself to Debbie.  He wanted to see what
kind of a reaction that he got.  Her body was not fully developed yet but
he would just love giving her a boff, he thought.  'God, I'm horny, ' he
thought.  'And I really must be fantasizing now to think that Debbie would
open up to me.  One incest in a family is extraordinary; the odds of two
happening in the same house were probably a 1000-1.  Nonetheless it doesn't
hurt to try!'

   Since that night however, Debbie seemed to be avoiding him like the
plague.  He kind of thought that he had scared her.  He thought that she
might tell someone and he had already been prepared on how to answer if she
did.  The truth was that she was afraid, but only of her inner feelings.



   ------

   Chapter 5

   It was on Washington's Birthday that she again encountered his manhood.
Home from school she was finally spending some time away from her bedroom,
where she had been secluding herself each night since the incident.

   Paul was sitting in the easy-chair and Debbie was sitting on the couch
with Beth.  This was probably the longest period of time that he was alone
with the girls since his arrival from the hospital.  From the side of his
eyes he sneakily studied his oldest sister.  And, when he was sure that she
wasn't looking at him he studied her more directly.

   She had the beauty that all of the girls did but she also had a maturity
that didn't yet seem to be developed in the others.  She had long blonde
hair that flowed so softly over her shoulders.  Her body was probably
three-quarters of the way to full development.  Her breasts, which pushed
out into a white pullover sweater, really attracted him.  From what he knew
of 13-year-old girls, Debbie's were much further along in development than
most.  He would love to fondle them.

   Her hips flowed out in sensuous curves and when he thought of her
nakedness, his manhood got excited.  During the night his cock filled out a
few times from his excitement of looking at his sister.

   After a while his sister Beth, the 10 year old, got up and left the
room, leaving Paul and Debbie as the only two there.  The thought of being
alone in the room with her made him horny.

   She wasn't looking at him as he silently separated the opening of the
bottom of his robe.  As he was doing this, the thought of what he was doing
seemed so exciting to him that his cock began to rise quickly, knowing that
she might look at him.

   When she indeed did look up she gasped.  His eyes were intensely looking
at hers.  Hers were gaping as if they were drawn by a magnet to his
standing erection which was fully exposed under the robe.  Then her eyes
looked up at him.  She saw him watching her.  She wanted to run upstairs
but her eyes darted back for another look at his manhood, which she saw was
jumping inside the robe.  It was so big.  Again her eyes went to his and
then they started rapidly moving from side to side, as if she was a caged
animal.  She realized that Paul knew that she had seen him but he didn't
seem to care.  As a matter of fact, a small smile was at the corners of his
mouth.

   She couldn't make herself run away.  Her mouth was dry and she kept
licking her lips.  Her eyes now looked at his for a long while before
slowly returning for a look at his exciting hidden flesh.  As she held her
eyes on his throbbing pecker, pre-cum was dripping out of the tip.  His
eyes watched her.  She didn't seem to care anymore that he was watching her
while she looked at him.

   Suddenly Ann came running into the room, before Paul could react fast
enough to close his robe.  It didn't seem that the 9-year-old girl had seen
him.  As he tightened the robe more securely Debbie quickly rose and went
to her room.

   Once upstairs, she immediately threw herself onto her bed.  She buried
her face into her pillow and burst out crying.  Tears poured from her eyes
and her body shook.  For a long time after she was able to stop crying, her
body was still racked with the sobs that came from deep within.  She hated
herself.  Shortly after, she realized that the crotch of her panties were
wet.  She knew why.  Those sensations that she had felt when looking at
Paul were unbelievable.  'What's happening to me?' she asked herself.  She
wondered if she should go talk to her mom for advice.

   And then she again had those thoughts about her mother and Paul and told
herself that even though she didn't really think anything had occurred
between them, it probably wasn't smart talking to her mother about her
feelings.

   Downstairs Paul was in deep thought.  His mother had shut him off from
sex completely.  She obviously had conquered her guilty feelings and was
determined never to let anything happen between them again.  Yet his
randyness was driving him on.  His youthful sexual feelings had been
activated by the sex between him and Yvonne.  It created a tremendous
hornyness within the youth's body.

   Because of this hornyness and his mother's attitude, Paul began to
divert his attention.  At this point he was looking at all of the girls in
the house.  Only Ann, the 9 year old was safe from his fantasizing.  And
that was only because she still hadn't developed any womanly features.  Her
hips were still straight and there still weren't any breasts; only a couple
of slightly enlarged nipples.  All of the others played in his fantasies at
one time or another, even Beth, the 10 year old.

   Tonight was different.  He was now obsessed with thinking about his
sister Debbie.  He had taken the bold initiative of exposing himself to her
and to his complete satisfaction she had reacted in a way that he wouldn't
have guessed in his wildest dreams.  He knew from looking at her watching
him that she couldn't turn away from looking at his cock under his robe. 
He felt that he knew why she rushed out of the room.  She had a strong
desire to see more of him and, he was sure, was also fighting urges to grab
him.  Her fear and sexual arousal were evident in her eyes.

   Paul was determined to try and do something with her.  His mind was
developing a scheme.  The thoughts excited him.  Would he dare?

   In the past his mother had made mention to the family in general that
there could be an earthquake in the house and nobody would wake up.  This
statement was the seed of the plot that Paul was hatching.  He was hoping
Yvonne was right.

   Paul just wanted to touch and feel his sister Debbie.  He knew that she
wouldn't 'go all the way' with him but, he felt that she had some strong
desires bubbling up inside of her.  He would love to teach her how to
masturbate, if she didn't already know how.  He fantasized that if he
handled things right that he might be able to do that to her and jerk
himself off at the same time.  At least that would ease some of these
sexual feelings that he had.

   As he envisioned it, what was going to happen would depend completely on
Debbie's ability to 'sleep through an earthquake.' Then, as he lay on the
floor, Paul fell into a sound sleep.  When it was time for them all to go
to bed his mother didn't want to disturb the boy.  She instructed them all
to leave him alone and for them go to bed.

   "Do you want me to get his 'cover' for him?" Ann asked.

   "Yeah, sweetie," Yvonne answered.  And she too headed up to her bed.

   Ann ran upstairs and got a sheet from Paul's bed and on the way back
down she passed her mother and sisters, who were going up.  When she had
returned to the living room, she was alone.  He was sound asleep on the
floor lying on his side.  As she prepared to put the cover on him, the
9-year-old girl looked quickly around the room.  She wanted to make sure
that no one else was there.  She also wanted to see if what she had seen
earlier was real.  She knew that there was a difference between boys and
girls but until tonight she couldn't imagine what the differences looked
like.  Earlier, when she had rushed in the room she caught Debbie staring
with wide eyes at her brother.  In a quick time span Ann's eyes followed
Debbie's direction and for a split second the little girl saw, for the
first time, what a boy looked like.

   Her curiosity was greatly aroused and now she was wondering if she could
really get a look.  She bent down by her brother and then after listening
to hear if anyone was coming and, convinced that no one was, she gently
grabbed his robe and pulled it back somewhat over his leg.  Then, her eyes
widened as she saw her brother for the first time.  She knew that boys had
'things' that went into girls.  Looking at him she knew that she would
never allow that to happen to her.  If a boy's thing ever tried to get into
her it would have to hurt her badly, she reasoned.  She was fascinated
thinking that some girls would actually allow boys to do that.  NOT HER!

   She thought that she heard a noise.  She quickly covered her sleeping
brother and hurried off to bed.



   ------

   Chapter 6

   Later he awoke; a twinge of curiosity running through his head.  Once
his eyes became accustomed to the dark and he realized where he was, he
closed them again, intending to return to sleep.  Instead, his brain became
alert and he woke completely.  Although he didn't know what time it was,
the complete silence in the house told him that everyone was asleep.

   Now he recalled his earlier scheming and the thoughts brought a warmth
to his crotch.  After lying there for about five minutes longer, his mind
began to stir.  He was determined to set his plan into motion.  Lying here
instead of his bedroom was even better than he planned.  Now he could go
upstairs and into Deb and Ann's room.  If anything went wrong he could
claim that he had done so by accident as he was still half-asleep.

   Finally, he stood up and walked over to the grandfather's clock.  It was
twenty-five minutes to three in the morning.

   He then slowly and very quietly climbed up the stairs.  His robe was
open and he was completely naked underneath.  There was no one to notice so
he didn't bother to tie it shut.

   When he reached the top, he hesitated to get his bearings.  As he
approached, he saw that their bedroom door was closed.  He stood
immediately outside for a very long moment...  'Not a creature was stirring
not even a mouse.' The silence was total.  Convinced of that, he reached
slowly and gingerly touched the door's handle.  Then, grasping it firmly,
he slowly turned it all the way.  His chest was beginning to pound from the
excitement.  Then he was pushing the door open.

   Soundlessly, Paul stepped into the room and looked at the twin beds. 
They were about ten feet away.  He assured himself that Debbie was in her
own bed and then he looked at her position.  She was lying on her stomach
with a blanket covering her body.  He slowly and quietly closed the door
behind him.  He was now in the room with them and he paused; realizing that
this was probably his last chance to 'chicken out'.  Momentarily, he took
one step and then waited silently...  then another.  In the moonlight that
shone from the windows, he was able to now make out Debbie's shape on the
bed.

   Another gentle step found his heart beating even harder.  He didn't take
two steps in a row; he always assured himself that the step before didn't
rouse anyone, before taking the next.  Finally, he was alongside of the bed
where his sister lay on her stomach, sound asleep.  First, he put his hand
down on the bed where he wanted to sit.  No reaction from the sleeping
beauty.  Summoning up the courage, he pulled his hand away and then lowered
his butt down onto the bed, alongside her.  The initial contact between his
buttocks and the bed was ever so gentle.  When she didn't move, he
continued increasing his weight until such time that all of his weight was
now on the bed.  [The girls could 'sleep through an earthquake!']

   After waiting about two minutes Paul decided that there was no turning
back now.  His hand was trembling as it reached and grasped the edge of the
blanket that was covering the 13-year-old girl.  Then, with his heart
beating wildly, his one hand raised the blanket for his free hand, which
then slowly pushed beneath.  His cock had by now risen to its full size.

   Then his fingertips suddenly touched an obstacle.  He felt a warmth
under their touch and he knew that he had just made contact with his
sister's hips, which were encased in panties.  Pre-cum seeped out of his
cock.

   After waiting a respectable amount of time, he now became bolder.  He
first laid the palm of his hand on the soft hip of the young teen and then,
when she didn't stir, he bravely let his fingers run over his sister's
beautiful ass, which was wrapped tightly in the cotton panties.  Paul was
wild by now.  He felt the heat from her soft rounded buttocks and he was
inflamed.  Her ass felt wonderful to his touch.

   Debbie didn't stir.  'Could she possibly be awake and faking sleep?' he
wondered.  His hand began to caress the round bottom.  Then his finger was
lightly rubbing her panties at the crack of her ass.  The hand that had
held the blanket up now lifted it and tossed it very gently; partially over
her.  The panties that he was feeling were now exposed to his view.  His
hard-on was throbbing!  He wished that she didn't have any panties on so
that his finger could actually be in the crack of her ass.

   Slowly he lowered his hand, heading toward the top of her legs.  At this
there was finally some movement from the girl.  She made a sound in her
throat and she slightly shifted her hips.  She had also parted her legs by
about a half of an inch.  'She IS awake, ' he told himself, 'and she wants
me to do this.  She wants to feel me touching her.' His fingers were now at
the bottom of her panties just at the tops of the flesh of her legs.  His
index finger reached down into, and began rubbing at, the area on the
outside of the little girl's pussy from behind.  More pre-cum oozed out of
his cock.  He was wild with anticipation.  The back of his hand felt the
flesh of her legs but only his finger had been able to get to the crotch
area between his sister's thighs.

   Her hips seemed to be moving slightly as he rubbed.  He imagined that
she was awake and that she was as hot as he was.

   Suddenly, she stiffened.  The half-inch gap between her thighs closed
tightly, capturing his finger.  The girl had awakened and immediately her
defenses became automatic.  Feeling an unknown touch upon her bottom, she
reacted with a frenzied fear.  She frantically turned to face her attacker.
As she turned rapidly to her side to face him, Paul's fingers were pulled
from her pussy area.  However, his hand stayed on his sister's panties as
she turned; and by the time she was on her side facing him, his hand had
adeptly pushed toward her cunt.  Before she could prevent it, his hand was
able to grab and hold at her pussy.  She anxiously squeezed her legs close.
Unfortunately, for her, this maneuver also locked her brother's hand into
place.

   "NOOOOOOOO!" she whispered with a passion, when the full realization hit
her as to what was happening and by whom.  "NO PAULLEEEE!  DON'T," she
hissed, firmly.  She was screaming in a whisper, so as not to awaken
anyone. "STOP...  Now!"

   Her hand reached down as she desperately tried to fend her brother off.
She clutched his hand and wrist in her grasp.

   Paul was convinced that this was an act; that she hadn't been sleeping.
Her eyes were fiery.  Then he suddenly became aware that by facing him she
had turned her naked breasts to him.  Liquid squirted from his prick at the
sight of his sister's beautiful tits.

   "It's okay Deb...  It's...  me."

   They were both frozen in place at this point.

   "Noooo!  Paulie, don't," she whispered.  She was ready to fight him. 
"Don't!...  I Can't!"

   As tight as her thighs were on his hand, he was still able to get
movement from the finger that was at the bottom of her panties, at her
pussy.  He began to force a rubbing finger over her crotch.  She bucked
violently upward once, trying to dislodge him, but his hand couldn't be
stopped.  His finger continued rubbing in the tightness.

   "It's okay, Deb...  I-I...  please Deb...  please..."

   His finger was causing a strange feeling.

   "NO!  Paulie...  I-I can't..."

   As she fought to come to grips with her thoughts she suddenly realized
that his robe was completely opened and his cock was completely open to her
view.  The excitement that she had been feeling began to reappear.

   "Paulie no!"

   Her hand tried to pull his hand from her but she was unsuccessful.  His
finger continued its rubbing.

   Her eyes looked into his and there was a strange excited look in them.

   She was now begging her brother, "Paul...  please Paul...  NO!... 
Don't...  you'll be sorry baby...  Please...  stop...  I - I - we can't..."

   Then he thought that he felt her grip on his hand ease.  And he also
thought he felt a relaxation between her legs.  Even though she still held
his hand tightly between her thighs, his finger managed to move and somehow
squeeze under the edge of her panties.

   As she sucked in her breath and hissed at him Debbie was coming to the
edge of giving in, because his finger had somehow found and began rubbing
at her clitoris.

   "N-NOOO!...  Oh Paulie no, don't...  I..."

   The finger was freer now as she opened her legs somewhat to receive it.
Her eyes were darting from his to his cock.  She had almost totally lost
the battle.  Her hips even began to roll under his touch.

   "Pauleeeee...  oooo Paulie please DON"T!  I can't...  I can't...  STOP
YOU.  I can't stop you...  I-I Oh Paulie!" Her tone had completely changed.
She was now a willing participant; as eager and as hot as he was.

   His free hand moved to her chest and grabbed and held one of her round
tits.  She moaned now.  She let go of his hand between her legs and spread
her legs a little further to allow his fingers complete access.  Her eyes
looked at the huge mass that had held her fascination and her hand, which
had been holding his, now turned and moved forward.  Suddenly the young
girl grasped his pecker in her hot hand.  Her fingers wrapped around the
shaft as a moan rose from his throat.

   "Paulie...  Paulie...  I'm afraid...  I-I...  I don't know what... 
how...  I don't know what to d-do."

   She had heard that boys liked their cocks 'jerked off' and instinctively
her hand knew what to do.  She loved the feel of the fleshy bone.  Her hand
began working it up and down and she could judge from her brother's moans
just how she was doing.

   His finger pulled from her momentarily.  Then his hand was pushing and
pulling her panties off of her hips and down her legs.  She wiggled about
eagerly, trying to assist him.  She was as hot as he was now.  Her legs
kicked them down and off of her legs.

   Debbie was feeling unfulfilled.  As hot as she was there was still some
sort of emptiness.  His mouth was over hers and now she was desperate to
get all of the satisfaction possible and to bring the tremendous sensations
within her body to an ultimate end.  Her mouth sought his and their tongues
immediately began working in each other's mouth.

   She had no idea that this would have all felt so good.  "God, I love
you...  I love you Paulie...  ooooo this is all so gooooooouuud!" She was
twisting wildly now as their hands and mouths worked on each other with an
abandoned passion.

   With their mouths still together, his hand left his sister's pussy and
he gently pushed her backward.  At the same time he began to roll over onto
her.  "Oh baby...  It's gonna...  Deb...  do you...  it's gonna hurt bad
sweetie...  I..."

   Her hand still held his cock as he mounted her.  Her legs had parted so
that he could place himself within.  There was no way she was going to quit
now.  She knew how much...  or thought she did...  it was going to hurt. 
But right now, she came this far...  she wasn't going to be stopped.  She
wanted to be humped...  BADLY.

   "I-I...  yeah, Pau...  I know how much it's going to hurt."

   She had expertly directed the head of his cock to the entrance of her
young pussy.  She felt its thickness and, realizing where it was going to
go, a tremendous sense of fear rose within her.

   "I...  Paulie...  could you try to do it easy?"

   "Mmmmmmm." He couldn't be stopped now.  His cock had just touched past
the lips of her pussy.  "It's gonna hurrrtt hon...  hurrt baddddd.  I won't
be able to stop...  or easy...  go easy"

   The woman in her took over now as somehow Debbie's body prepared itself.
Her legs widened as far as they could and then wrapped around her
brother's. Both of her hands reached up to the back of his head.  Her hot
eyes burned into his.  "It's oKAAAY Paul, it's okay...  go ahead...  come
on...  hurt me..."

   Her lips pulled his down to meet hers and looking into his face she
hissed into his mouth, "DO IT TO ME PAULIE...  SCREW ME!" and her mouth
brought his down, crushing onto hers.

   His eager cock knifed past the lips and was quickly into the moist hole.
He felt the obstacle of her hymen but he didn't know how to go about being
gentle.  Nor did he care at this point.  He just wanted what his sister
said that she wanted.  He wanted to fuck her.  He pushed down ruthlessly.

   The burning pain seared though her cunt and she cried out in his mouth.
If their mouths hadn't been joined, her cry probably would have awakened
everyone in the house.

   Paul's cock was too wide to penetrate totally.  He pulled back and
pulled his head away from her mouth.  The look of fright in her eyes was a
sight to behold.  Tears were rolling down her cheek.

   "Hold on baaaaby," he warned.  "Here comes more, Deb it's...  gonna hurt
more...  hold on."

   As he shoved his cock further into the depths of her virgin cunt her
mouth went to his shoulder and bit with every bit of power that she
possessed.  Her hands had gone around to the back of her brother.  Her
fingernails dug deeply into the skin as he pushed his flesh in deeper,
"AAAAHHHHGGGGG OOOHHH!" She kept her mouth in his shoulder to muffle the
cries.

   Then he was thrusting in and out of the girl's hot pussy and with each
movement, she felt more burning.  As his pounding increased she also felt
the first semblance of pleasure amidst all of the pain.  She was trying to
shut out the hurt and concentrate on the pleasure but it wasn't working too
well.  Soon, however, a spasm began to erupt within her body.

   Ignoring the pain she began pumping back at the cock that had inflicted
all of this feeling.  "Do me Paulie, do meeee...  Oooohhhh Paulllleeeeee!"
She was humping as hard as him now as the tears kept running down her
cheeks.  "I...  I'mmm something'ssss ooo Paullleeee!!!"

   "Ohhhh Debbie I'm cummmmnnn.  Come on, baby...  fuck...  cum!"

   Even with the pain she felt joyous explosions begin with her pussy, as
she felt those wonderful spasms begin to bubble over inside her.  She
wrapped her legs tighter around his and tried to push her hips closer to
his.  She was fucking as hard as he was.

   "Mnnnnnooooooooooo"

   He began shooting blasts of cum deep into the depths of her pussy.  They
were clutching wildly at each other as he continued flooding the hole.

   As he was blasting out the final spurts his head turned to the side
frantically.  It was then that he got a glimpse of the wide eyed fear in
the eyes of his 9-year-old sister Ann.  She was watching with fascination
and horror.

   When he finally rolled off of Debbie, she was silently crying.  She was
obviously still in pain.

   "How bad does it hurt?" he asked.

   "It'll be all...  all right," she sobbed bravely.  "It just...  Oh
Paul...  it did hurt."

   "I'm...  I'm sorry," he said.

   "No...  Oh no...  no Paul...  It's-it's okay...  It was good too. 
You're just...  It's so big!" she said.

   "I'm sorry," he said again.  "But one good thing...  You only have to go
through that once in your life...  It won't hurt anymore...  How...  how is
it now?  Is it as bad?"

   As he spoke his hand went down to the mound between her legs but didn't
try to penetrate.  He just held the fine hairs of her pussy in his hands.

   "Ummm," she said.  "It's still burns...  but not as bad."

   Again he said, "I'm sorry." This time his finger ever so gently reached
into the lips of her pussy.  She showed a quick twinge of pain and then
seemed to relax.  The juices in her pussy saturated his finger and he
slowly began to move it within the pussy-lips.  This time he didn't detect
any sign of withdrawal and she obviously didn't mind his finger at this
point.

   "Sore?" he asked.

   "Mmmmmm yeah...  still sore..." she twisted a little uncomfortably, but
managed a half-smile.

   His tongue and lips were working on her ear and she felt her body
tingling.  His finger was hurting but the hurt wasn't the same as before.
This was only a distant burning sensation.

   "Want me to kiss it and make it better...  ?" he asked as his tongue
rimmed inside her ear.

   At first she tensed.  The thought was strange.  Would he...  what
would...  what could he do?  "I, I don't kno..."

   His finger was now moving easily at her clit and crack.  "It's okay...
trust me," he said into her ear.  "I'll make your cunny better...  you'll
like this..."

   Before she realized what was happening her brother had moved over her
and they were facing in opposite directions.  His mouth was kissing at the
hairs of her bloodied pussy.  His finger was playing within the crack,
which was starting to ooze out some of the liquid that Paul had poured in.
His mouth and tongue started going lower as his head delved deeper within
her thighs.

   "I'll make it all better baby...  Paulie's gonna eat you...  you wanna
be eaten baby...  don't you?"

   His tongue flicked out and into the crack.  "Nnnnngggg...  oooooo... 
yes," she whispered hotly.

   Her hips were now beginning to rotate under his touch.  The smell of raw
pussy in his nostrils was inflaming him.

   "Paulie wants to make you feel better.  Paulie wants to eat you. 
Paulie...  wants...  everything in...  your...  cunt!"

   She was moving against his mouth.  "OOOOH Pauleeee.  Go...  E-E-E-eat
me...  make it all go away..." Then she felt a spasm within and reached
down and held his head.  She hissed loudly at him, "MAKE THE CUM GO
AWAY!!!!"

   Paul was now intoxicated with the smell and taste of this child-woman.
The lips of his mouth pursed and entered inside the crack.  He sucked and
smelled as much of this delicious pussy as he could.  The delicious mixture
of juices from her pleasures and her hurt and his cum were being lapped and
swallowed eagerly by his frantic mouth and tongue.  She was now bucking up
wildly, fucking at his mouth.  Her legs spread wider and his hands pushed
under the cheeks of her ass and clasped the globules tightly.  He helped
her in the fucking of his mouth by pulling and releasing her ass toward and
away from him.

   Her hands were down clutching at his head urging him into her.  Her legs
were trembling from sexual weakness.  She was now beyond her sensibilities.
Spasm after spasm was shooting through her as his mouth and tongue were
bringing her to a final climax...

   "PAULLLLLEEEEE OooooooooooH Paulllleeeee."

   He continued lapping at the wonderful cunt as the final tremors shook
her body.  She finally loosened her grip and laid back, totally relaxed.

   "That...  that was great," she finally said.

   He moved up and lay alongside her again.

   She hesitated, but she had to ask.  "Paul...  I have to ask you a
question...  okay?"

   He nodded.  "Sure Deb."

   "Er emm...  er last week...  Did you...  you and mom..." She was having
a difficult time.  "Did you screw, er, fu...  fuck mom last week?"

   "Why do you ask?" he whispered.

   "I know you stayed the night in her bed...  and I'm sure...  that I
heard you two...  like you and I tonight...  Only you and ma were louder...
Unless I dreamt it...  ?"

   "Look Deb...  one thing a guy should never do...  is tell who he
fucked."

   "She liked it didn't she?...  I heard her moaning and begging you to
make her cum.  Right?"

   "Don't Deb...  Look sweetie, no one will ever know about you and I... 
understand?  It's private."

   She looked at him for a long time before nodding.  It was pretty obvious
from his non-denial that he had done their mother.  Wow, she thought.

   'Holy Cow!' thought Ann as she lay in silence in the adjoining bed. 
First she awakens and finds her brother putting that huge manhood into
their oldest sister.  Then her sister actually begins to enjoy her brother.
And he did that other thing to her with his mouth.  (When he did that she
felt very funny and when she touched herself she found that she had wet her
panties).

   Now as she listened, she grasped what her brother and sister were
talking about.  Unless she was totally mistaken, it meant that her brother
had done the same thing to their mother that he just did to Debbie.  And,
if what Debbie was hinting at was true, her mother had a glorious time
while doing it.

   Neither Debbie nor Paul was looking at her.  In the semi-darkness she
looked over at his manhood.  It had shrunk from the enormous size of a
little while ago, but it still looked huge to Ann.  Her sister's hand had
the thing in it and her fingers were moving up and down upon its length. 
Ann wondered to herself what it was about that thing that made her sister
and mother do the things that they did.

   ------

   As Paul was leaving the room he looked at Ann's bed.  He was shocked to
see that her eyes were wide open and watching his movements.  He stopped
and looked at her for about a half a minute.  She looked frightened.

   "It's okay Annie.  Nothing's wrong.  Deb's okay...  go back to sleep...
and Annie...  ?" She was looking up at him intently as he hesitated and
then continued, "This is our secret, okay...  ?

   Upon hearing Paul talking to their little sister Debbie immediately sat
straight up.  In a matter of seconds she was sitting up at the edge of her
bed in a panic.

   "Okay!" Annie replied to Paul who then quickly disappeared out the door
and went to his own room.  He too was in a small panic but he didn't want
to make a big deal of Ann's knowledge.  He now recalled that he had caught
the little girl watching Deb and him earlier, but he had been so wrapped up
in the moment he was not really mentally aware of the potential danger.

   After his sexual appetite had been sated he then was able to realize the
problem.



   ------

   Chapter 7



   Starting with this chapter, this story is continued by sourdough



   So much for the family being able to sleep through an earthquake.  Paul
was in bed back in his own room but there was no way he was going to get to
sleep right away.  He was both excited and nervous.  Excited from having
just fucked his sister Debbie and nervous because they'd been observed by
their sister Ann.  He wondered how well Ann could keep a secret.  Probably
as well as any nine year old which was not well at all.  But if she was
part of the secret?

   Paul knew this was just rationalizing.  He intended to seduce Ann even
if she had slept through his session with Debbie because that's what he
wanted to do anyway.  What a laugh, actually thinking little Ann would be
safe from him.  Don't forget to include Carol and Elizabeth in your plans
he told himself.  No, he'd never forget them.  Paul's prick twitched in
response to the thought of doing the same thing to Ann, Carol and Elizabeth
as he'd done to Debbie and Yvonne.

   His mother Yvonne was neither blind nor stupid.  She'd catch on
eventually and then there'd be hell to pay unless she was compromised. 
Paul would love nothing better than to make his mother a regular bed
partner and then if Debbie just happened to walk in on them a little
blackmail would force her to tolerate his use of her daughters and keep the
secret from her husband.

   Well, Yvonne had already made it clear there wasn't going to be a repeat
performance but Paul sensed vulnerability in his mother that could be
exploited.  He was sure it had something to do with the tension he felt
between his mom and dad.  And what was the secret of the relationship
between Yvonne and her own father?

   Paul couldn't believe the thoughts running around in his mind.  They
certainly weren't the thoughts of an eleven year old.  Well, he had the
mind of a 50 year old but even as Philip Grady thoughts of cheating on his
wife Mary remained in the fantasy realm.  Now, if he had his way, Paul's
mother and his four sisters would form the boy's personal harem.  Paul
yawned.  Eleven year old boys had lots of stamina but they also needed lots
of sleep.

   Paul woke up later breathing hard and in a cold sweat.  He had that
dream again but at least he wasn't screaming in his sleep and waking up
everyone in the house.  He looked around.  It was light out but he didn't
know the time.  The boy realized he remembered parts of the dream this
time.

   Paul was looking at himself from a distance and he was talking to
someone.  He was talking to me Paul realized and it was Paul, the real
Paul, who was talking to him.  The trouble was this Paul couldn't hear or
understand the dream Paul.  He seemed to pleading with Paul but nothing was
getting through.  He probably wants his body back.  "Poor little guy," he
said aloud.  "I don't blame you.  I don't know how I got in your body and I
don't know how to get out of it.  Until I wake up from this dream or the
powers that be straighten things out I'm going to be you."

   Paul speculated his existence as Philip ended 50 years in the future
probably because of a heart attack.  His doctor had been nagging at him to
lose weight and lower his cholesterol and blood pressure but Philip kept
procrastinating.  It was just guessing, of course.  His consciousness
somehow got pulled into Paul's body when it should have been on its way to
whatever reward or punishment he'd earned in life.  That is, if this was
reality.  The reality right now was that Paul had to piss and he was
sporting an erection that any adult male would trade his left nut for.

   Paul pissed and dressed.  He was feeling a bit of cabin fever for the
first time since he left the hospital.  He wanted to do something, like
seduce and control all the females in his family.

   "Good morning, Paul," his mother called as walked into the kitchen. 
Carol, Elizabeth and Ann were also in the kitchen and they also greeted
him. He didn't see Debbie.

   "Good morning, everyone.  Where's Debbie?"

   "She complained about not feeling well so I'm letting her stay home
today.  I'm just going to walk the girls to the bus stop."

   "Okay, Mom." Paul looked straight at Ann who blushed but didn't say a
word.

   "When's Paulie going back to school?" said Carol.

   "As soon as the doctor says he can.  Come along, girls."

   "Peggy Carson asks about you every day," Elizabeth added.  If that
statement was supposed to provoke a reaction it didn't work.  Paul just
smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  He didn't know any Peggy Carson and
could care less.

   Paul sat down at the kitchen table and considered what to do next.  He'd
read and seen enough science fiction dramas to realize he'd better be
careful or he might alter the past and affect the future.  Had he already
done so?  The boy picked up the morning newspaper and read the headlines.
The Eisenhower administration had been in office a little over a month. 
Richard Nixon was Vice President, old Tricky Dick.  There was still combat
going on in Korea.  That at least checked out with what Paul knew about the
history of the era.

   Well, Paul really did exist in this era.  His body just happened to be
occupied by someone else at the present time.  The boy just wished he could
take advantage of what he knew of the future in order to make some money.
You had to have some money in order to make money and as far as Paul knew
he didn't have a dime to his name.  He guessed his family made enough money
to get by but it was obvious to Paul this country living development was
lower middle class and blue collar.  What did Peter do for a living Paul
wondered?  He'd have to start asking more questions.

   Philip Grady probably existed also right now also but at the moment he
was less than a year old and on the other side of the country soiling cloth
diapers and probably driving his parents crazy.  His wife Mary wouldn't
even be born for a couple of more years.  Philip was born and raised in
southern California and hardly visited the snow.  Now, as Paul, he was
living in a suburb of Hoboken, New Jersey which he knew nothing of.  The
weather sure was different.

   "The comics are in the back," said his mom as she walked in the door.

   "Thanks, Mom.  I'm just checking the headlines."

   "That's nice.  It's good you're starting to show an interest in current
events.  It's usually you reading the comics, your father reading the
sports and I'm reading the ads."

   "What do the girls read?"

   "Debbie and Carol are starting to show an interest in fashion but
usually they look at the pictures in magazines.  Elizabeth and Ann haven't
taken much of an interest in reading yet."

   Paul turned to the financial page and started making some notes.  Maybe
he could talk his parents into making some investments.  With his knowledge
of the future the family could become filthy rich.  He sighed.  Not very
many people would take a stock tip from an eleven year old.  He looked up
briefly to see Yvonne staring at him like she'd seen a ghost.  "What's
wrong, Mom?"

   "You're, uh, writing with your left hand, Paul." Philip was left handed
but apparently the real Paul was right handed.  He wondered how many other
anomalies would be uncovered the longer he was Paul.

   "I guess I got some brain damage in that accident," Paul said trying to
make light of being left handed but that was the wrong thing to say.

   "Don't say that!  I pray to God it isn't so," said Yvonne looking really
scared.

   "But what about the amnesia, Mom?" Paul tried to look scared too.  Maybe
he could exploit the situation.

   "Your doctor explained it was probably caused by the trauma you
suffered. He hopes it won't be permanent."

   "What about what happened the other night, between you and me?  Did we
do something like before the accident?"

   "N-no, we didn't," said Yvonne sounding nervous.  "That's just something
that happened.  Don't blame yourself and we'll just forget it ever
happened, okay?"

   "But that's just it, Mom," said Paul looking as forlorn as possible, "I
don't want to forget anything that happened.  I want it to happen over and
over and over again."

   "That's impossible, darling.  I'm your mother.  Mothers and sons just
don't do that sort of thing.  It can never happen again."

   "I dunno," said Paul.  "First the amnesia, then me making love to you
and now being left handed.  Do you hate me?  I'm sorry I had the accident."

   "I don't hate you," Yvonne gasped, "and the accident wasn't your fault.
It was that awful driver's fault." She was taking him in her arms and
hugging him to her.  Gosh, her cushiony breasts felt really great against
Paul's chest.  His prick was inflating to full size.

   "I'll tell you something, Mom.  Last night, I came to your door.  I
wanted to go in, get in bed with you, and then make love to you just like
we did before."

   "But you didn't," Yvonne declared, "because you're strong and you knew
it was wrong.  I'm proud of you for resisting temptation."

   "No, Mom.  I didn't go in because I thought you'd get mad at me and then
you'd tell Dad and he'd get mad at me and then you'd both kick me out into
the street for being a bad son."

   "I'll never do that, Paul and I'll never tell your father but..."

   "That's good, Mom," the boy interrupted, "because I want to kiss you
now." He leaned his head forward and touched her lips with his own.  Yvonne
blushed but didn't resist.  Paul moved into a full blown kiss and started
to undo the buttons of her blouse.  He was wondering if he could fuck
Yvonne right there in the kitchen when he heard a car pull up into the
driveway.  Yvonne pulled away from him.

   "That's your father.  W-we'll talk about this later." She rose and left
the kitchen, redoing the buttons of her blouse as she walked.

   "Hi, Dad," said Paul.

   "Hi, son," said Peter.  "How are you feeling?"

   "I'm feeling great.  Guess what?"

   "What?"

   "I just found out I turned left handed." He already tried writing with
his right hand and couldn't write worth a damn.

   "What!  You're kidding!"

   "I'm not kidding.  Ask Mom.  Let's sue that guy who hit me."

   Peter chuckled.  "As a matter of fact, we received a letter from the
man's insurance company offering a very nice settlement: Your medical
expenses plus $10,000.  That's going to make you a very well off young
man."

   "That just means they think we can get more if we sue." Paul knew that
from his previous dealings with insurance companies.  "Demand a hundred
grand and then negotiate.  We'll get a lawyer if we have to.  Don't sign
anything until you check with me."

   "Wow!  You sound like a wheeler dealer here.  Still, it makes sense. 
What are you going to do with all that money, son, if you get it?"

   "Invest and turn it into more money, Dad.  Maybe you can retire early."

   "My son, the next Rockefeller," said Peter.  "It sounds good." He
yawned. "Where's your mother?"

   "Mom might be checking on Debbie.  She wasn't feeling well so she's
stayed home today."

   He shrugged.  "I'm going to clean up and get to bed.  Glad to know
you're feeling better.  Maybe you can start back to school soon.  You won't
get anywhere without an education, you know."

   If Paul could get a good money settlement out of the accident, that
would solve the problem of lacking investment capital.  Peter sounded
open-minded enough to at least let him use some of it and then when he
proved himself, well, it was too soon to ask for a subscription to the Wall
Street Journal.  Now it was time to work on the next problem.

   "Can I ask you a question, Mom?"

   "You can ask me anything you like, Paul." He was following Yvonne around
while she cleaned house.

   "Would it be all right if I just quit school?"

   "Absolutely not!  Why would you want to do that anyway?"

   "Well, you know I just feel so weird going back to school with me not
knowing anyone and everyone knowing me." There was also the fact he had an
engineering degree from UCLA.  Of course he could never prove it and
showing off his knowledge would raise questions he wasn't sure how to deal
with.  Also, he sincerely doubted his fifth grade teacher could teach him
anything useful in dealing with his present situation.

   "I know that'll be a problem, honey but there are laws that say you have
to go to school until you're a certain age and it's certainly older than
eleven."

   "Why don't you teach me?  You're smart."

   "Thank you, honey but if I was smart I wouldn't have started making
babies in high school.  I had to quit school and was never able to make it
back." The topic seemed to bother her.

   "Why not?"

   "Because I had to take care of the babies I made.  Babies can't take
care of themselves, you know."

   Duh!  thought Paul.  That was obvious.  "Did Dad complete high school?"

   "He did but he had to go to work right away to support us.  Any thoughts
of college were forgotten.  He got a job in a warehouse and he's been there
ever since.  He's worked very hard and now he's a night foreman."

   Paul nodded.  His dad seemed like a nice guy.  He just wished he could
generate some guilt over fucking his wife and daughters but he just
couldn't.  It was like his conscience didn't make the transfer.  "I guess
the real reason I want to stay home is that we could fool around in my bed
all day."

   "You're terrible," Yvonne exclaimed but she was hugging him at the same
time.  "It might wake up your dad.  You'd better get used to going back to
school when your doctor gives the all clear.  Listen, your sisters want to
go see Peter Pan but we wanted to wait until you were feeling better.  You
seem perky enough.  How about Saturday?"

   "Sure," said Paul.  "I've always enjoyed that movie." He'd purchased a
whole bunch of Disney videos for his grandchildren and that was one of
their favorites.

   "You must be thinking of some other movie," said Yvonne.  "This one's
brand new."

   "Oh, yeah," said Paul.  There was an awful lot to learn about 1953.

   "I have to do some shopping right now.  Don't forget your dad's asleep
and Debbie is resting." Yvonne started to pull on her coat.

   "Sure, Mom," said Paul.  "I won't forget." But he had forgotten about
Debbie.  Now that he was reminded he was going to visit her as soon as his
mom left for the market.

   Paul knocked at the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. 
Debbie was sitting up in her bed reading a magazine.  "Good morning," he
said.  "How are you feeling?"

   She looked and smiled.  "Okay, I guess," Debbie responded.  "I'm still a
little sore." She scooted over on the bed when Paul sat down beside her. 
Paul put his arms around his sister and kissed her.  The kiss wasn't
intended to show his affection but to display his dominance over her. 
Debbie was surprisingly docile and Paul knew he'd have very little problem
with her.  He brought one hand down and slipped it between her thighs. 
They moved apart to accommodate his hand.

   "We have to talk about something, Debbie."

   "What is it?"

   "Last night I told you a guy should never talk about who they've fucked,
right?" She nodded and Paul continued.  "But sometimes you need to.  You've
already figured out I fucked Mom the other night."

   "Did she like it?"

   "She loved it and I think she wants to continue doing it with me."

   "Does that mean you can't do it with me anymore?" She looked
disappointed.

   "Not even Mom and Dad can keep me way from you," Paul assured her.

   "I'm glad," said Debbie and hugged her brother.  "I think I love you
more than just as a brother." She blushed and looked shy.

   "I feel the same way about you, Debbie.  That's why I don't want you to
be jealous when you start hearing things again."

   "I won't," his sister declared, "but why do you have to keep fucking
Mom?"

   "Because she'll never think it's okay I'm fucking you but if I'm fucking
her at the same time she won't be able to complain much.  In fact, if you
happen to walk in when Mom and me are in bed together, we can sort of
blackmail her into keeping our secret from Dad.  What do you think?"

   "I-I'm not sure.  You probably know best." Debbie seemed hesitant but
Paul wasn't worried.  His sister probably didn't want to come across as too
easy.  "What about Ann?  She can be a real tattletale at times."

   "I'm glad you brought her up," said Paul.  "We'll just have to bring her
in on our secret."

   "But she already knows..." Debbie gasped when she realized what Paul was
saying.  "Oh, no Paul.  Ann is much too young and...  you could tear her
apart."

   "I'll be gentle with her," Paul assured his sister.  "I certainly won't
do what I did with you last night, just little things to let her know I
think she's special too."

   "Are you going to make Carol and Elizabeth feel special also?" Ah, now
jealousy was rearing its ugly, green head.

   "If it was up to me I'd rather it be just you and me but we live in a
small house with lots of people and Carol and Elizabeth can be tattletales
too.  The one person who can never find out is Dad.  Mom will have to back
up Dad and claim she didn't know anything even if she does know.  If the
police are called they'll put Mom and Dad in jail and put us in an
orphanage.  Is that what you want?" Debbie shook her head but Paul was sure
she wasn't following his logic.  She was pouting.  Paul heaved a heavy sigh
and got up.  He really hated removing his hand from between those luscious
thighs.  "I guess I was wrong about you," he said and started to leave the
room.

   "What do you mean?  Where are you going?"

   "I'll leave you alone from now on," said Paul.  "I always liked you the
most, Debbie.  I wanted you to be the number one girl in my life and be the
one I tell all my plans and dreams but if you don't trust me..."

   "I do trust you," Debbie insisted.  She was almost in a panic.  Brother
or not, she'd given up her most precious treasure to Paul the night before
and now she had a major stake in his success.

   "I'm not sure now.  Maybe if you show me you'll do as I say no matter
what then I might begin to trust you again."

   "What do you want me to do?"

   "Stand up and take off your clothes." Debbie started to blush but didn't
hesitate.  She stood up at the side of the bed and removed her nightgown
and panties.

   "Keep your hands to your sides," said Paul as he noticed the lovely girl
starting to cover here private parts.  She instantly obeyed.

   Gosh she's beautiful thought Paul.  Everything happened in the dark the
night before and this was his first unobstructed view of his oldest sister.
He quickly shucked his jeans and shorts.  His formidable prick stood out
straight from his body at a 90 degree angle already leaking precum.  Paul
walked over and stood in front of her, the tip of his prick almost but not
quite touching her.  Debbie bowed her head.  She was taller than her little
brother but now she felt insignificant in his presence.  "May I say
something?" she said.  When Paul nodded Debbie said, "I don't know if we
have to worry about this now but what if I get pregnant?  I'll die of shame
if I get pregnant."

   Paul paused to think.  Was he shooting live sperm?  He wasn't sure.  As
Philip he didn't get laid until much later in life.  In fact, he was sure
he was the only college freshman on the planet who was still a virgin.  If
his body was producing sperm Yvonne, Debbie and probably Carol were at risk
of getting royally knocked up with babies with the other two girls
following.  The introduction of the birth control pill was still years away
and abortion was illegal everywhere.  Yet, the thought of his mother and
sisters having his children made his prick feel even stiffer if that was
possible.  He'd think about the consequences later.  "I'll take care of you
if anything like that happens," he said finally.

   Debbie nodded her head.  Her faith in him was now complete.  She didn't
think to question the promise of an eleven year old boy.  Paul directed her
to lie on the bed again.  She spread her legs readily when her brother
mounted her and thrust his huge prick deep inside her body.  "Do you love
me?"

   "Oh, god yes," Debbie declared.  "I'll do anything for you." Even if it
meant helping her brother seduce their mother and sisters.

   "I know you will," said Paul as he began mating with his sister.



   ------

   Chapter 8

   "Are you feeling better, honey?" asked Yvonne.

   "I'm feeling fine, Mom," Debbie replied, "and thanks for letting me stay
home from school." Debbie dressed and came downstairs with Paul after their
fuck session.  Their mother arrived soon after and fixed lunch.  Paul
wanted to get rid of Debbie for a while so he could start flirting with his
mom again but then Yvonne started asking Debbie to help out and Paul
figured he'd have to wait.

   In the meantime Paul could start planning on making Carol, Elizabeth and
Ann part of his harem.  Ann was the first order of business.  She saw what
happened between her brother and Debbie.  The young man would begin
seducing his nine year old sister when she returned home from school. 
Despite being eleven years old his 50 year old mind made Paul feel like a
pedophile for having thoughts like that.  However it made him feel there
was no case of the guilts to get in his way.  Paul had no compunction about
fucking his youngest sister.  He just had to be careful about the way he
did it.  Debbie was right.  Paul was too big where it counted for Ann to
take and he didn't want to physically injure her.

   Paul watched his mother and sister work.  He would have willingly
pitched to help but they never asked him.  He wondered if that was because
what they were doing was considered women's work.  Things must have changed
fast because when he was growing up as Philip he always had to take his
turn at the dishes and his Saturday chore was to scrub down the bathrooms.
Ugh!

   Paul looked at the wall clock.  It was only 1:30.  The girls wouldn't be
home for another 90 minutes and his dad wouldn't be up for another two
hours.  The young boy was getting horny again.  Should he go upstairs and
masturbate?  No, Paul decided from now on his cum would go in or at least
on his mother or one of his sisters.  That's where it belonged, after all.
Paul shook his head.  Was that sick or what?  Yeah, it was sick but Paul
didn't care.

   These are my women Paul decided.  It occurred to him Peter, his dad,
might have something to say about that or his mother or sisters might
object to his sexual domination of them.  But as far as the women were
concerned their fates were sealed.  Paul didn't doubt this would eventually
be the case.  The fact this attitude went against every moral precept he'd
been raised with didn't seem to bother him.  The realization he was
thinking like a borderline psychotic and should probably be seeking
professional help did concern the boy but not enough to stop him.

   "Get lost for a while, Debbie.  I want to be alone with Mom," whispered
Paul.  Debbie nervously looked at her brother but didn't demur.  She
dropped what she was doing and casually left the kitchen as if she was on
an errand.  Paul moved up behind Yvonne, reached his hands around her waist
and cupped her boobs.

   "P-paul!  What are you doing?" she cried in a panic.  "Let go of me this
instant!"

   "Don't worry, Mom," Paul soothed.  "We're alone right now." He could
feel Yvonne's nipples harden even through her dress and bra.  They couldn't
be any harder than my prick thought Paul.  He was shorter than his mother
but his prick still lodged nicely between her ass cheeks.

   "I don't care.  This isn't right and besides, your sister may return at
any moment." Paul noticed Yvonne didn't make any effort to escape his hands
despite her protest.  In fact, she seemed to relish the physical contact
rolling her hips to enhance the experience.

   "I don't care either.  I've wanted to do this all day.  Now that I have
the chance I'm not going to pass it up."

   "Please, Paul.  I'll die of shame if Debbie walks in on us, not to
mention your father.  He'll be up very soon."

   "That is a problem.  How do we solve it?"

   "I don't know what you mean."

   "I think I should come to your room after Dad leaves for work."

   "No, Paul.  What we did was very wrong, a mortal sin.  If we die with
that stain on our souls we'll go straight to hell for sure and I don't how
I'll ever be able to confess this to a priest.  Please don't make me do
this." Paul barely realized until now his family was Roman Catholic.  As
Philip he was a lifelong Protestant.  He didn't know a thing about the
Catholic faith.  Well, what he wanted to do was wrong in any faith but he
was aware of Yvonne's plea not to 'make' her do this.  To him it meant he
could make her do anything he wanted.  "Paul?" The eleven year old was
ignoring his mother and continuing to fondle her tits.

   "I don't want you to wear panties underneath your nightgown tonight,
Mom."

   "Paul!"

   "Do you understand, Mom?"

   "But Paul, I can't..."

   "Do you understand?"

   "Yes, Paul." The boy felt the older woman shudder and he wondered if she
had come.  Was Yvonne fulfilling a fantasy of giving herself to her son? 
Paul was certainly fulfilling a ton of his own wet dreams.  He dropped his
hands to his mother's waist and turned her around to face him.

   "You're my woman now.  Just remember that." Yvonne blushed and opened
her mouth to protest but then shrugged and nodded her head.

   "Don't just nod your head, Mom.  Tell me what I want to hear," Paul
insisted.

   "I-I'm your woman, Paul," she stuttered.  "I'm your woman." That was
good for a start Paul thought.  In the future she shouldn't be so hesitant
but that would come with more training.  He pulled her down to his level
and kissed her, not like a young son kisses his mother affectionately but
like a lover.  Yvonne gasped as her son's tongue pushed its way into her
mouth but she didn't try to pull away.

   The boy was pleased.  If Paul had his way it soon wouldn't matter who
walked in while he was embracing his mother.  She wouldn't move even if it
meant exposure to their activities.  Well, maybe that was overstating
things a bit.  The boy didn't want to be so blatant as to put everyone in
peril.  "I'll go see what's keeping Debbie," Paul said finally.

   The boy climbed the stairs to his sister's room.  Debbie was staring out
her bedroom window and turned to face him when he entered.  "I'm frightened
of you, Paul," she said, "and I'm frightened for you too.  Does that make
sense?" When Paul shrugged his shoulders she said, "Please be careful." The
young teen kissed her brother gently on the lips and walked out of the
room.

   Debbie was right, of course.  Paul just didn't know what he could do
about it.  He'd been in this family's home for less than a month.  He was
using their son's body and begun a systematic domination and sexual abuse
of the female members of the family.  Yet, Paul did not know how nor did he
have the desire to control himself.  Any number of things could go wrong
and there would be no way the eleven year old boy could justify his actions
to his father or to any legal authority.

   Paul wondered if the answer could be found in the dreams he'd been
having.  The real Paul had been trying to communicate with him but Paul
hadn't been able to hear him.  The eleven year old boy had been going to
sleep with the hope the dreams would stop and he could get some peace. 
Maybe that was the wrong attitude to take.  Perhaps Paul should try to be
more open to these dreams.  Then maybe the real Paul could have his say and
then be at peace.  Paul decided to try some relaxation exercises before bed
time.  It was definitely New Age before its time.

   When Carol, Elizabeth and Ann got home Paul idly sat by and listened to
them gab about their day with Debbie and their mother.  He didn't much care
about what they had to say but he wanted to keep an eye on the girls and
especially Ann.  She was, after all, his new target for seduction.  The
eleven year old boy was anxious to get his little sister alone for a while
so he could start the process.  Part of the problem was that it was really
a small house despite having four bedrooms and privacy was at a premium. 
Debbie would have to help.

   At one point Paul made eye contact with Ann and he smiled at her in a
flirtatious way.  The nine year old blushed but smiled back nervously
before turning away.  Yeah, she was flirting back thought Paul.  This
should be easy.  He'd appeal to the natural affection brother and sister
had for each other and the curiosity she displayed while watching Debbie
and him going at it.  She sure was cute.  In a few more years she'd be
beautiful.

   Since Ann was too small yet to take his eight inch prick up her snatch
Paul decided his little sister would make an excellent cocksucker.  He
wouldn't expect anything like a deep throat treatment but it would
introduce her to the wonders of her brother's prick and the joys of sexual
servitude to her older sibling while preserving her virginity for Paul's
later use.  She'd be looking forward to the day when she gave up her
virginity to her sexual master.

   Peter soon came downstairs and the girls were clucking over him and
fixing him a snack.  Paul imagined a time when the girls would be clucking
over him exclusively and that included his mom.  Not that he had anything
against his father but the eleven year old knew he wanted to be the master
of the house.  You're not making any sense thought Paul.  You're still just
a kid and your father is working his ass off trying to support everyone. 
What an ingrate!  Paul brought memories of his former life when he'd worked
the graveyard shift while in college.  It was no picnic.  After the shift
was over you just wanted to sleep which is what Peter did when he got home.

   All thought of sympathy for his father went out the window when he
noticed the girls going upstairs to change into their play clothes.  Since
Debbie hadn't gone to school that day she was already dressed casually so
he might be able to get a few minutes alone with Ann.  Paul discreetly
followed the three girls and when he saw them enter their respective
bedrooms he slipped through the door of Ann's bedroom.  The young girl was
startled a bit when she saw her brother but she didn't say a word.  She
sensed he wanted to talk to her alone but was unsure of what else he
intended after what she observed the previous night.  She wavered between
fright and excitement.

   "I'd like to talk to you, Ann." No sense beating around the bush.  One
of the others might show up any moment.

   "About last night?"

   "Yes, that's right," said Paul.  "You're a very smart girl."

   She blushed with the compliment.  "I won't say anything to Mom or Dad or
anyone else."

   "I knew you wouldn't, Ann and I'm really glad about that.  I guess what
I wanted to tell you is that I felt bad about not inviting you to join
Debbie and me in our fun."

   "That's all right," said Ann.

   "I don't think you really mean that, Ann.  I know you don't like being
left out of fun games." Paul was just guessing but if she was a typical
youngest sibling the statement would be true.

   "You hurt Deb."

   "That's true, honey but only for a little while and then she really
liked it."

   "I don't want you to hurt me, Paulie.  I don't you to stick your big
thing in me like you did with Deb and Mom." So she overheard them
discussing Mom too.  Whatever.

   "I won't do that until you ask me to," Paul assured her, "but we can do
other things with each other and I'll never hurt you.  Like right now, all
I want to do is give you a big kiss and hug." Ann looked suddenly shy but
she didn't object when her brother took her in his arms and kissed her
lightly on the lips.  She felt his hands slide down her back and grip her
narrow hips making sure she felt the full length of his prick rubbing
against her body.  "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

   Ann shook her but looked suddenly apprehensive when her brother zipped
down his trousers and took out his big thing.  "You said you wouldn't..."

   "I just want to show you what it's like.  It was dark last night." Ann
looked at it with awe and barely noticed Paul moving her hands so she would
touch his prick.  He was surprised when his sister didn't object and began
to run her hands lightly up and down the length of his cock.  It must be
instinctive thought Paul.

   The boy knew he shouldn't press his luck further.  He would have loved
to have his sister's lips wrapped around the knob of his prick but would
have to come later, tonight maybe.  The mere thought of such a thing made
Paul want to come on the young girl's face.  No sense in frightening his
little sister though.  There was plenty of time to train her in her new
duties.  Ann looked slightly disappointed when he moved her hands away and
zipped back up.  "You'd better get your clothes changed," Paul said.  He
kissed her once more and left her bedroom.  Yes, things were proceeding
nicely.

   Bedtime was 9:00 p.m.  for the children.  Yvonne stayed up with her
husband until it was time for him to leave for work.  Paul waited until
9:30 before getting out of his bed to sneak to Ann's and Deb's bedroom. 
The boy could hear the radio was on.  Apparently his parents were listening
to some radio drama which he didn't recognize.  Paul had been under the
impression that television had already wiped out that type of radio but
apparently not until later on in the decade.

   The girls appeared to be asleep when Paul slipped in.  He crept over to
Ann's bed and gently kissed her.  The young girl opened her eyes and smiled
at her brother then sneaked a look over to where Deb slept.  So far so good
thought Paul.  He continued kissing his youngest sister while slipping his
hand underneath the bed clothes.  The boy found Ann's thigh and began to
caress his way up to her crotch.  "Take down your panties," he urged her in
a whisper.  Ann looked kind of frightened but complied with her brother's
wish.  She jumped when he began to caress her private place.  Ann knew it
was wrong.  Why else would they need to keep it a secret?  Yet, it felt so
good.  The young girl felt herself becoming wet just like when she saw her
brother and sister screw.  Yes, that was the word she heard Deb use.  If it
felt this good she wanted Paul to screw her too.

   "Screw me, Paul," Ann whispered.

   "Huh?"

   "Screw me just like you did Deb.  Please!"

   "Not yet, babe.  I don't want to hurt you."

   "You said it hurt Deb just for a while."

   "Yeah, but she's a lot bigger than you." If the two of them were alone
in the house Paul just might have granted Ann her request but finally
getting a grip on reason he knew he had to discourage his little sister for
now.  "You've seen my prick, right?" When Ann nodded her head Paul wormed
his forefinger into the young girl's vagina until he saw her jump.  "It
hurt, didn't it?  And that's just my finger.  Do you understand now why we
have to wait?"

   Ann nodded her head again.  "I love you, Paul."

   "I love you, Ann." He kissed her again.  "I'm going to get in bed with
Deb now.  You can watch or you can go back to sleep." He stood up, walked
the two steps to Deb's bed and climbed in.

   "You didn't waste any time, did you?" said Debbie as soon as he embraced
her.

   "What do you mean?"

   "I was watching you with Ann.  You're a fast worker, almost as fast as
you were with me."

   "I didn't know you were awake," said Paul.  He didn't know how else to
answer her.  She sounded jealous.  Paul started kissing his older sister
hoping it would distract her from thoughts about Ann.  Apparently it
worked. She spread her legs readily when he mounted her and was pleased to
discover she wasn't wearing panties.

   "I've been playing with myself," Debbie giggled.  Yeah, Paul could tell
when he slid his prick in with relative ease compared to the night before.
Still, the girl was plenty tight and Paul knew he wouldn't last very long.
He'd wanted to come again since shortly after their last fuck.  Debbie
wouldn't mind as long she could count on a longer second round of fucking.
Well, she'd take it however she could get it.  She was addicted to his
prick now, not much better than a whore really.  That last thought kind of
bothered Paul as he continued to thrust his prick in and out of his oldest
sister but not very much.

   After Peter left for work Yvonne got ready for bed.  She still had
trouble believing Paul would come to her bed as he had announced he would.
It was like her son had been possessed by a demon while he was in that
coma. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him again about that night with
him was just an unfortunate mistake and that incest was dangerous and
condemned by the Church.

   Still, she followed his instructions and gone without her panties just
in case he did show up.  Yvonne was uncertain why she wanted to obey her
son.  He was just eleven years old, still a child but his prick was as big
as an adult's; as big as her father's.  She wanted to blame Peter.  If he
had been doing his duty as a husband instead turning into a homosexual she
wouldn't be in this fix.

   Yvonne didn't know how long she'd been asleep before the mattress
shifting woke her up.  She felt her night gown being pulled to her waist,
her son's massive prick poking at her vulva from behind.  The young mother
lifted one leg to give Paul better access.  She knew it was wrong.  Why did
it feel so right?

   "Watch out!  He'll kill you!  He'll kill you too!  He'll kill you just
like he killed me!" Paul woke with a gasp.  It was still dark.  He was
still lying by his mother's side.  He had been dreaming again but this time
he heard what Paul was trying to tell him.  Someone had killed the real
Paul.  This someone probably thinks he needs to finish the job.  "Someone
wants to kill me," he said aloud.



   ------

   Chapter 9

   Paul felt his heart racing and he forced himself to lie calm until it
returned to a normal beat.  Someone was out to kill him.  Who was out to
kill him and why?  He was just an eleven year old boy, hardly old enough to
start making enemies, especially ones who wanted to kill him.  Was the
accident really an accident?  What was the killer's motive?  Well, whoever
killed him wouldn't realize he had already succeeded and would try again.
The boy wanted to rationalize the nightmare as just a strange fantasy
because wasn't this whole experience just a strange fantasy?  A short
circuiting of his brain just before death.  It could still be New Year's
Eve 2002 and he could right now be lying on the dance floor dying.  He
didn't want to take that chance.

   Paul had to talk to the real Paul again and find out whom, what and why
behind the murder.  The trouble was that Paul's dream only warned him of
the danger before he woke up: the information only came in bits and pieces.
How long would it take before he understood the full story and be able to
prevent his second murder?  Would it even matter if he knew the full story?
Paul cursed himself for waking up from the dream.  If he had listened to
the dream Paul longer he might have learned something useful.  At this rate
the killer could walk right up to him and finish the job without Paul
seeing it coming.

   Paul looked over to his mother.  It was dark out and Yvonne was still
asleep.  He ran his hand up and down her thigh.  Despite his fright his
prick stiffened with desire for the older woman lying by his side.  The
lovely woman moaned in protest even as she slept when Paul maneuvered her
body to accept his eight inch monster.  Yvonne woke with a start as she
felt herself being penetrated.  She forced herself calm down and let her
son have his way.  In a way it wasn't so different from the way she was
treated by her own father.  A tear coursed down her cheek just to be
reminded of it.

   Yvonne wasn't much older than Debbie when her father came to her late
one night and woke her up.  She could tell he'd been drinking even as she
struggled to alertness.  The man merely told her she'd have to start
earning her keep.  Yvonne wasn't aware her father was naked until he pulled
back the covers and crawled into bed with her.  There was the brief
struggle, the fear, the pain of penetration from his huge prick and then
the shame.  The most shameful part of it was the great pleasure Yvonne
derived from her being abused by her own father.  Thank goodness he used a
condom whenever they were together.

   Yvonne's mother turned a blind eye to her husband's sexual abuse of
their daughter even when the young girl tried to complain.  Yvonne planned
on running away because of the abuse and guilt until she met Peter in high
school.  He was so kind and gentle that she fell for him right away.  It
was so easy to seduce Peter and get knocked up by him.  She was soon
pregnant with Debbie and moved in with Peter's family after they got
married.

   Paul, Yvonne's father, was furious but there wasn't anything he could do
about it; at least, not then.  It wasn't until after Carol's birth that
Paul showed up one day when Yvonne was alone with the babies and assaulted
her again.  This time he didn't use a condom and that resulted in her being
impregnated with little Paul.  She named the boy after her father as a mark
of her shame.  When Peter discovered the truth he forbade the older man
from ever showing his face around there again or Peter would kill him. 
Apparently Paul took the threat seriously because he never tried to see
Yvonne again.  He tried to call Yvonne occasionally but he never made any
threats in return.

   Yvonne felt her son shoot his load inside her.  It felt like an awful
lot.  He was as big as his father, his real father.  She vaguely wondered
if Paul was virile.  It didn't seem possible.  The boy was only eleven
years old.  Still, it would be prudent to start taking precautions.  How
would she ever explain another pregnancy to her husband?

   When Paul awoke again he was alone.  Looking at the clock told him it
was time to get up.  He peeked out the door to make sure the landing was
clear and then sneaked into his room and dressed.  He'd be alone with his
mother after his father went to bed and he didn't intend to give the older
woman a break from his attentions.  After he greeted everyone Yvonne told
him she'd be on an errand after seeing the girls off so Paul was alone when
his father came home.

   "Morning, Dad.  How was work?"

   "Same as usual," he said.

   "Um, I noticed you were making phone calls yesterday.  Did you talk to
anyone concerning the insurance company?" Peter looked tired to Paul but he
was anxious to get some extra money from the bloodsuckers.

   "It's already been taken care of, Paul."

   "Great!  How much do I get?"

   "The same as I told you yesterday."

   "What?" Paul was incredulous.  No one in their right mind ever took a
first settlement offer from an insurance company.  "We could have gotten a
lot more.  Weren't you listening?"

   "I'm listening, young man, and the only thing I hear is the rude and
greedy tone of your voice.  The offer was fair and I accepted it on your
behalf."

   "But..."

   "But nothing, Paul.  Until you grow up and start a home of your own the
decisions in this house are going to be made by me.  Is that understood?"

   "Yes sir," Paul responded.  Peter walked out of the kitchen and Paul was
left to brood about the lamebrain he had for a father.  What a loser!  That
man wasn't going go anywhere in life with his level of education and that
attitude.  Paul knew he could run a better household than his father.  He
already had.  The boy was still fuming by the time his mother returned.

   "What's the matter, Paul?" Yvonne noticed her son's change of mood right
away.  After Paul related the conversation he had with Peter Yvonne said,
"I'm sure your father knows what he's doing."

   "I doubt it," Paul said.

   Yvonne blushed.  Before the accident Paul had never been intentionally
rude to his father.  Well, a lot of things were different since the
accident.  "Your father may still be awake.  I'll go up and see if he'll
talk to me." Paul nodded.  It would give him time to plan Carol's or
Elizabeth's seduction.  He didn't care which one presented the first
opportunity to get in their pants but it would happen tonight.  There
certainly wasn't anything wrong with Paul's self confidence.

   Paul fixed himself some cold cereal and milk, whole milk, delivered
right to the door.  It sure tasted creamy.  As Philip he had grown up with
2% milk and stuck with it as an adult.  His doctor finally talked him into
trying 1% milk just before whatever happened, happened.  The boy vowed to
take care of this body better than he had the last one.  He didn't want to
die young again.  The last thought reminded him someone wanted to kill him.
It wouldn't matter how well he kept himself physically fit if he was
murdered.  Paul knew he had to have more information but how was he to get
it?

   Paul was sitting on the living room sofa when his mother came
downstairs. "Did you have a chance to talk to Dad?" he said.  Yvonne nodded
and sat down in an arm chair.

   "You're a very smart young man, Paul but I don't know if you're old
enough to understand certain things." She picked at the hem of her dress
nervously.

   "Try me, Mom," said Paul.  He was being distracted by Yvonne's lovely
legs.  He wanted to pay attention but he really wanted to stick his hand up
that same dress.

   "Your father can work for the company he does because he belongs to a
union.  Do you know what a union is, Paul?"

   "I know what a union is, Mom."

   "Apparently, the man who hit you has influence with the union.  When he
heard about your father's conversation with the insurance company he called
some officials with the union and asked them to talk to him.  A union
official was waiting for your father when he clocked in and..."

   "...  told him to sign the settlement or lose his job."

   "Well, he didn't put it quite so bluntly but that was the gist of the
talk."

   "Say no more, Mom.  I understand completely." Paul was immediately
ashamed for thinking his father was just being stupid.  "I just wish Dad
would have told me the reason this morning."

   "Well, I think your father was ashamed of having a scare being put into
him.  After all, he didn't want his wife and children starving to death."
She tried to put it lightly but Paul could tell she was scared too.

   "Can I ask you about something else, Mom?"

   "Certainly, Paul.  You can ask me anything you want."

   "Do you think the accident was really an accident?"

   "What do you mean, honey?" Yvonne looked puzzled.

   Jeez, Paul thought.  How do I put this so I don't come across as
paranoid or worse?  "You know I've been having nightmares lately, right?"
When Yvonne nodded Paul continued.  "I'm finally remembering little bits of
the nightmare, Mom.  In the nightmare someone is trying to kill me.  I
can't help but think I'm being warned about something or someone but with
my amnesia nothing makes sense."

   "I think I understand now," said Yvonne.  "The accident was definitely
an accident.  The man who hit you has had no previous connection with our
family or anyone we know.  The union thing was just a coincidence. 
Apparently he has political ambitions and believe me; no one gets elected
to public office in New Jersey by deliberately hitting children out riding
their bikes.  I don't know of anyone who might want to harm anyone in this
house." She brightened a bit.  "Maybe this means you're beginning to regain
your memory.  That would certainly be an answer to my prayers."

   "That could be," said Paul.  He motioned to Yvonne.  "Come sit by me."

   Yvonne colored up but moved to her son's side.  "It's my turn to discuss
something with you, Paul."

   "Sure, Mom."

   "I know I told you I was your woman but we still need to be careful."

   "I'm not going to tell anyone, Mom.  Don't worry about it."

   "There's another way people might find out about it, Paul."

   "How's that?" Paul thought he knew what his mother was going to say but
he had to play dumb.

   "I could become pregnant.  Having sex like we've been doing is the way
women have babies."

   "That's wonderful, Mom," Paul declared.  He really meant it.  "Do you
think I'm old enough to get you pregnant?"

   "I'm not sure if you're old enough, honey but it's only wonderful if the
pregnancy is the result of a husband and his wife having relations.  You're
not my husband.  You're my son and that only makes it worse; in the eyes of
society, the law, the Church and nature."

   "I don't want to stop having relations with you, Mom.  What can we do?"

   "I stopped at the pharmacy this morning and bought condoms.  Condoms
are..."

   "I know what condoms are, Mom." Yvonne looked kind of surprised at her
son.  The kind of knowledge he had could only be picked up from someone
older.

   "Paul, have you've been talking to anyone else about sex?"

   "I don't know, Mom.  I've had amnesia."

   "Anyone at the hospital?" I guess eleven year olds aren't supposed to
know about condoms in 1953 Paul decided.

   "Not that I know of."

   "Well, anyway I want you to start using them if you insist on sleeping
with me.  Of course, it would be even better if you stopped sleeping with
me completely."

   "I dunno, Mom.  I kind of like the idea of sleeping with you.  Couldn't
you blame it on Dad if you did get pregnant?" Paul hated the idea of
wearing a condom.

   "N-no, that's not possible." Paul noted her answer.  Did his dad have a
vasectomy?  As Philip he certainly would have had the job done after five
children.  Still, there was something evasive about Yvonne's answer and he
wondered about it.  He didn't wonder for long because the boy wanted to
fuck his mother again.  He reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it
above her knees.

   "Please don't start anything, Paul."

   "Why not, Mom?  We're all alone right now."

   "Actually, we're going to have a visitor very soon, your doctor.  He's
going to examine you and decide if you're well enough to return to your
regular activities including school."

   "The doctor is coming here?" He'd heard of physician house calls but he
couldn't recall ever having witnessed one.

   "Of course," said Yvonne.  "He's been here before for both you and your
sisters." Five minutes later Dr.  Prescott was knocking at the door.  The
doorbell had long been disconnected so it wouldn't disturb Peter during the
day.  Paul remembered meeting his doctor in the hospital.

   "Who do you think is going to win the World Series this year, Paul?"
said Dr.  Prescott.  He was making conversation while making a preliminary
examination of the boy.

   "Um, the Yankees?" Paul had never been much of a baseball fan but he
knew the New York Yankees were a powerhouse team in the '50's.

   "Good guess," Dr.  Prescott replied.  "Did you know Whitey Ford is
coming back from the army?  That should make the team even more invincible.
Well, your physically fit, young man.  Any flashes of memory returning?"

   "No sir," said Paul.  He noticed Yvonne waving her left hand.  "I've
become left handed.  What do you think of that?"

   "Really?  That's indeed strange.  I suppose your brain suffered a deeper
trauma than we originally thought and it's trying to adjust in the best way
it can.  I'll probably have to do some research on that.  Anything else?"

   "Other than having weird dreams, there's nothing else."

   "Well, let me know if they become really disturbing.  I might suggest
going to a counselor to deal with any psychological trauma.  I think your
ready to resume your regular activities including returning to school. 
What do you think of that?"

   "I feel a little weird going back and not knowing anyone but a lot of
them know me but I guess it's all right." Paul still wanted to stay home
but he didn't see any way to avoid returning.  His mother told him there
was a danger of being held back if he missed much more school.  How ironic!
He had a university degree and almost 30 years experience as an engineer.
Yet, he might be held back in the fifth grade.

   Paul grasped Yvonne around the waist almost as soon as Dr.  Prescott was
out the door.  "Please stop it, Paul," she begged.  "I asked you not to
start anything."

   "Our visitor is gone, Mom." He caressed the woman's hips and laid his
head on her bosom.  Paul wasn't going to put off easily.

   "Come away from the windows.  Someone might see in." The boy doubted
that but it gave him an excuse to pull his mother back into the living room
and on the sofa.

   "No one can see now us now," said Paul as began to grope his mother
again.  Yvonne was silent.  No amount of reasoning seemed to have an effect
on her son and she felt so weak in his grip.  Not that he was brutal like
her father but he certainly asserted himself unlike Peter.  Why was she so
helpless?  There didn't seem to be any point protesting as Paul reached
under her dress, pulled down her underwear and exposed her loins.

   Her son seemed to prefer taking her from behind so she draped herself
over the arm of the sofa.  Yvonne didn't bother asking Paul to use a
condom. She somehow knew he'd refuse.  It felt so deep and so full inside
her.  It was wonderful!  The lovely woman would just have to take her
chances.



   ------

   Chapter 10

   "Are you still having headaches, honey?" said Yvonne.

   "Yeah," Carol replied.  She rubbed at her eyes in a way that was
familiar to Paul.

   "I'll give you an aspirin and then you can go lie down for a while."

   "Okay, Mom."

   "Have you been having these headaches for long?" said Paul.

   "For a while now," said Carol.  "I forget for how long."

   "Where do you sit in class?"

   "In the back.  Why do you ask?"

   "Are you having trouble seeing the board?" He ignored her own question.

   "Sometimes."

   Paul nodded.  As Philip, he'd got his first pair of eyeglasses when he
was twelve years old.  He recalled the same symptoms.  He was glad Paul
seemed to have perfect vision.  "Ask the teacher to move your seat to the
front of the room and see if that helps." He turned to his mother.  "Carol
should get her eyes checked.  She might need glasses."

   "Glasses?  Yuck!  I don't want to start wearing glasses." Carol's
sisters giggled.

   "Quiet, girls," said their mother.  "I think that's a very good idea,
Paul."

   "I'll look ugly in glasses," the pretty twelve year old protested.

   "You're just going to be tested and it's a good idea to rule out that
possibility," Yvonne countered.

   "Where's my aspirin?" Carol said sulkily.  She swallowed it with a cup
of water and went upstairs to rest.

   Well, it looks like Carol is going to be my next target thought Paul. 
She was upstairs alone with everyone else downstairs.  He didn't really
care whether it was Carol or Elizabeth whom he seduced next.  The boy
excused himself after a few minutes of idle chatter and went upstairs. 
Paul opened Carol's bedroom door without knocking.  Carol was lying on the
bedclothes and saw her brother come in but didn't seem to care.

   "How are you feeling?" said Paul.  Carol just shrugged her shoulders and
remained silent.  "I didn't mean to upset you," he added as he sat on the
bed next to his lovely sister.  The twelve year old was as well-built as
Debbie and Paul figured he could fuck Carol without fear of injuring her.

   "It's not your fault I may need glasses," said Carol.  "I'll be ugly,"
she huffed and turned her body away from her brother.

   "It'll take a lot more than a pair of glasses to even harm your beauty
one tiny little bit," said Paul.  He lightly ran his hand up and down her
hip and thigh.  Carol turned her head and looked at her brother and then at
his hand which was still roaming freely.  She was blushing pink with
embarrassment and Paul wasn't sure if it stemmed from his compliment or his
hand.

   "Th-thanks," Carol stuttered.  "I'll be all right now." She grasped his
wrist gently and tried to push away his hand.  Paul held his hand where he
wanted it.

   "That's good," her brother said, "because now we can talk about
something else."

   "What do you want to talk about?"

   "I want to talk about you and me." Paul slipped his hand between his
lovely sister's thighs and hard up against her crotch.

   "No, Paul!" Carol hissed and tugged harder at his hand.

   "Why not?"

   "You're my brother," she protested.  "Please, take your hand away right
now."

   "You mean if I weren't your brother, it would be all right?"

   Carol looked confused for a moment.  "I'll tell Mom and Dad if you don't
stop," she threatened.

   "Go ahead and tell them," Paul challenged.  Carol might prove a more
difficult customer the boy thought but he instinctively knew he would
succeed eventually.  At least he hoped that was the case.  Well, she wasn't
yelling yet.

   "Someone may come in," Carol warned.  She was beginning to sound
frantic.

   "I'll stop if you come to my room tonight."

   "What?  N-no!  I can't.  I won't."

   "Fine," said Paul.  He reached over with his free hand and cupped her
boob.

   "No, Paulie!  I'll come.  J-just leave me alone."

   Paul nodded and took his hands away.  He knew there was a possibility
Carol was just saying that to get rid of him but so what?  That would be
just a temporary solution.  He'd always be around.  "Come to my room at
9:30," he said.  "If you're not there on time, I just might come back here
looking for you." Even if she didn't show, Paul always had Ann and Debbie
to visit and after his dad left for work, his mom.  Things didn't look bad
at all.  Stepping outside Carol's bedroom, he ran right into Debbie.

   "I knew you'd be in there," she giggled.  "Make any headway?"

   "A little bit," the boy said.  "She's a little shyer than some people I
know."

   Debbie nodded.  "Carol is the smart one in the family.  She already has
plans to go to college and doesn't have time for boys."

   "What are your plans after high school?"

   "I'm going to get married and have a family, just like Mom.  What else
is there for a girl to do?" Women's liberation still was still some time
away as a movement thought Paul.  Debbie's attitude seemed to be the norm
for girls in this era.  It was Carol who was in the minority.

   "You can become your brother's fuck toy," said Paul.  He reached up and
thumbed his sister's nipples.

   "I already am my brother's fuck toy," Debbie responded.  Her voice took
on a serious tone.  "Why don't you let me and Mom be your whores, Paulie,
and leave the others alone?  If Mom gets pregnant, she can blame it on Dad.
If I get pregnant, well, I'll tell them I was raped in the park or
something.  I'm afraid Dad will kill you if he finds out what you're
doing." Only if I'm not killed by someone else first thought Paul.

   "I'll think about it," the boy responded.  Debbie made sense.  There was
a greater risk of exposure with more people involved.  Paul knew he
wouldn't pay any attention to Debbie's warning.  He wanted to dominate all
the women in this family.  The thought crossed his mind that if he was
going to accomplish his goal, he was going to have to dominate his father
too.  How in hell would he do that?

   "Do you want to come to my room?" She brushed her hand against the bulge
in his jeans.

   "Yeah," Paul said with a grin.  It was still a while before 9:30 was
going to roll around and there was no guarantee Carol would show up.  He
followed Debbie into her room.

   "How do you want me?" Paul bent his sister over the bed and pulled down
her pants and panties.

   "Like this is fine," he said and guided his stiff prick inside her tight
little cunt.  She was soaking wet without any preliminaries.  What a slut!

   "Oh god, Paul!  You're in deeper than before.  I didn't think you could
do that!  It hurts almost as bad as the first time."

   "Mom likes it this way and so will you."

   "I'm sure I will.  It's already starting to feel nicer."

   "So you want to be my whore, huh?"

   "Yes!"

   "I don't suppose you have any choice," said Paul.  "You see, guys don't
marry whores and that includes girls who aren't virgins on their wedding
days.  So, you're kidding yourself if you continue to think of marriage. 
You'll never be able to convince a husband you were a virgin for him once
he sticks his prick inside you anyway.  My prick is already bigger than
most men's and it'll just get bigger in the next few years; two, three or
maybe four inches longer and a lot thicker."

   Debbie moaned in fear and lust as her brother sawed his prick in and out
of her cunt in a leisurely fashion.  She couldn't imagine taking a prick
any larger than the one violating her pussy at that very moment.  Also, her
brother was just confirming something she already knew.  Men only wanted to
marry virgins.  She was damaged goods.  That was just a simple truth.  She
was at the mercy of her little brother.  Her fate was in his hands.  "I'll
be or do anything you want, Paul."

   "I'm sure you will," the boy said.  He fucked his oldest sister for a
few more minutes and then spurted another load of sperm into her womb. 
Paul's attitude and behavior was in complete variance with that of his
former life but the eleven year old relished the difference.

   Carol avoided Paul until supper and then just picked at her meal.  Paul
didn't try to engage her in conversation or make her any more uncomfortable
than she probably already was.  There was no sense pressuring her until he
found out whether or not she would obey.  The twelve year old beauty didn't
participate in the excitement of going to see 'Peter Pan' the following day
but maybe she was just nervous.

   By 10:00 p.m.  that evening, Paul decided Carol wasn't going to show and
was debating whether to go to her room when he saw his door open and a
feminine silhouette slip through and close the door.  The boy didn't say
anything because he wasn't sure who it was.  It could be Debbie and she
wants to play some more.

   "Are you awake Paulie?" her voice whispered.  It was Carol.  She stood a
safe distance from the bed.

   "You're late."

   "I almost didn't come.  What do you want?"

   "I want you to get in bed with me."

   "What?  You can't be serious, Paul."

   "I'm completely serious, Carol.  Come get in bed with me."

   "You-you've changed, Paul.  I guess it was the accident or something but
it's almost like I met a complete stranger this afternoon; someone I don't
even like."

   "Maybe I am a complete stranger to you but you're a complete stranger to
me too, Carol.  Amnesia will do that to a person.  I don't see a sister in
front of me.  I see a very beautiful, very desirable girl.  Didn't I ever
ask you to join me in my bed before?"

   "You didn't." Carol was glad her brother couldn't see her blushing in
the dark.

   "Then I must have been blind or a fool.  I want to make up for lost
time. Get in bed with me now, Carol."

   "I'm going back to my own bed right now," said the pretty twelve year
old but she didn't move.

   "I'd rather you get into my bed because you want to, Carol.  Going back
to your bed tonight will only delay me.  It won't stop me.  Eventually,
you'll come to my bed or...  I'll have to come to yours.  Let's just hope
Elizabeth is a sound sleeper."

   "I'll tell Mom and Dad what you're saying."

   "That might delay me some more but that won't stop me either.  Nothing
will stop me from getting what I want.  Right now, I want you to get in bed
with me."

   "What will you do if...  I...  do get in bed with you?"

   "I'll make you mine, Carol."

   "You'll...  but Paul...  that's a sin...  a mortal sin." Paul wondered
why he was being so patient with Carol.  He'd literally forced himself on
his mother and two other sisters and it had worked.  Why didn't he do the
same thing with this sister?  He could take her by surprise: reach out
quickly and just grab her.  He'd been told Carol was the smart one in the
family.  If Paul could persuade her to do everything he wanted, well, she
hadn't run away screaming for Mom and Dad yet.

   "Will your conscience be clear if I force you?"

   "Please, Paulie," she whined.  "Don't do this." Her stomach did a flip
when she saw her brother sit up in the bed and swing his legs out.  She
didn't try to leave.  The young girl wanted to reason with Paul.  He is my
brother and I do love him she thought.  Carol flinched when her brother
reached out and touched her hand.

   "Your hand is cold, Carol." The boy's sister suddenly felt weak and
helpless when he touched her.  She should run, resist him or call out for
Mom and Dad but she did none of those things.  He untied her robe and
slipped it off her shoulders.  Without prompting she sat down on the edge
of the bed and removed her slippers.  She was wearing a pair of flannel
pajamas but she felt naked before her brother's gaze.  "Get in the bed,"
Paul said.  It wasn't a request but an order.  Carol lay back and scooted
over.  There was room enough for two in the bed but barely.

   Paul got in under the covers with his sister.  He expected very little
resistance from Carol.  He'd been upfront about what he wanted and what he
was going to do to her.  Yet she still got in bed with him.  Paul was very
proud of himself.  The boy had established dominance over his twelve year
old sister and he'd barely touched her.  That was about to change.

   Carol flinched when Paul embraced her.  She was very conscious of her
brother's very large and very stiff prick trapped between their bodies. 
Eleven year old Paul decided to take things slowly.  There was no need to
be frantic like he was with Yvonne and Debbie.  At the same time there no
need to be extra gentle like he was with Ann.  Carol would have the full
length of Paul's prick inside her body soon enough along with a couple of
doses of sperm in her womb.

   Paul waited until he felt some tension leave his sister's body and then
gently kissed her on the lips.  Carol didn't respond right away but after
the third kiss she kissed him back.  It was a naïve little girl's kiss but
Paul was pleased anyway.  He didn't want Carol to be a passive recipient of
his lust.  He wanted an active participant and that kiss was a small but
important first step.  Now it was time for the next step.

   Carol felt her brother moving around but didn't realize what he was
doing until he took her hand and pushed his prick into it.  She tried to
pull away but Paul held her by her wrist.  "Paul, please...  I don't want
to do this.  I want to go back to my room.  I didn't think-"

   "You didn't think?" said Paul.  "You're the smart one in the family,
Carol and now you're trying to act stupid.  You knew exactly what was going
to happen when you got in bed with me." He pulled back the bed clothes. 
The boy had removed his pajama bottoms and was naked from the waist down.
"Haven't you ever been curious about boys?"

   Curious?  Carol was more than curious about boys but she didn't want it
to be like this: she wanted it to be with her husband ten years in the
future after she graduated from college and become an elementary school
teacher.  Despite her reluctance the twelve year old beauty held on to her
brother's prick after he released her wrist.  Fear and shame was
temporarily overcome by the desire to examine the mysterious male part she
heretofore only dreamed about.  She remembered it was properly called the
penis.  She knew some other names for it but that was only from overhearing
talk among groups of boys on the school playground.

   Paul smiled with approval and pleasure as Carol played with his
throbbing prick.  Oh, yeah!  Now she was fondling his scrotum.  Gently,
gently dear sister, please.  His gonads were as oversized as his prick and
their contents would soon be trekking up his sister's fallopian tubes in
search of an ovum to mate with.  He wanted to get her to kiss the tip of
his prick and maybe suck it but decided that should be put off for another
session.

   Carol seemed to have forgotten Paul would want his turn at exploring her
own body and in a very intimate manner.  She barely noticed her brother
taking off his pajama top and became frightened again only when he pulled
her body on top of his.

   "No, Paulie," she cried when she felt his hands slip under pajama
bottoms and panties to cup her rear cheeks.  Carol squirmed uselessly
against her brother's superior strength.  Paul turned her over on her back
and yanked her nightwear down to her thighs.  He quickly found her clitoris
and began to gently massage it.  He covered her scream of outrage with his
free hand.

   "Don't let Mom or Dad hear you."

   "I want them to hear me," Carol said in a quieter voice.  "Please let me
go, Paul.  I won't say anything if you just let me go back to my bed."

   "You won't say anything anyway," Paul countered, "because then you'd
have to tell them you came to my bedroom and got in bed with me
voluntarily. They'll blame everything on you."

   It's true thought the intimidated young girl.  Mom and Dad will think
I'm a whore if they find me like this.  This is all my fault.  I must have
done something to make my brother think I wanted this.  Carol tried to be
miserable but there was that delicious feeling where Paul was rubbing her.
She felt herself becoming wet.  The young girl no longer wanted to fight
her brother and he seemed to sense it.  He stopped rubbing his sister's
love bud and pulled away the rest of her garments.  She looked so beautiful
even in the dim light.

   "It'll hurt a lot at first," he warned the girl as he mounted her. 
"Bite down on your shirt and cover your mouth when you have to scream."
Carol nodded her head.  Paul lodged his prick in her cunt just past her
labia and pushed.

   Even though her brother had warned her, Carol was still unprepared for
the pain of his penetration.  It was like she was being torn apart.  She'd
surely die from her injuries and her soul be sent to hell for her sins. 
She was uttering a prayer heavenward for forgiveness when another sensation
began competing with the pain.  With instinctual skill the twelve year old
beauty began to meet her brother's thrusts with thrusts of her own.  In
another minute of vigorous fucking she was experiencing her first orgasm.
She wrapped her arms around her brother's back and hugged him fiercely.

   Paul breathed a sigh of relief and gave his sister a deep kiss.  "I love
you, Carol." Giving her a nice cum forgave a lot of wrongs and would make
her responsive in the future.  He knew Carol would be post-orgasmic guilt
but he was sure he could overcome that in later fuck sessions.

   "I love you, Paul." All doubts were temporarily swept away by the most
delicious feeling she'd ever experienced in her short lifetime.  Instead of
praying for forgiveness she began to pray for more of those special
feelings.  In another few minutes her prayer was answered when Paul
deposited a huge dose of his virile sperm into his twelve year old sister's
fertile womb.

   Yvonne was climbing the stairs when she heard a door open and saw Carol
leave her brother's room and go into her own.  Fortunately, Carol didn't
spot her mother on the stairs.  The pretty mother could only suspect the
worse possible scenario.  Paul was using his sister just as he was using
his mother.  She shook her head in doubt.  Maybe it was something innocent.
Well, it wouldn't hurt to check with Paul.  He was probably still awake.

   Paul heard the door open and saw a different feminine silhouette slip
through.  Ah man, I'm too tired to take another one so soon he thought. 
"Paul, are you awake?"

   "Yeah, Mom."

   "I, uh, saw Carol just now leave your room and I was wondering what she
was doing here so late."

   "We were just talking."

   "Oh, I see.  Well, it is the weekend but you both still need your sleep,
you especially.  You're starting back to school on Monday and you won't be
able to sleep so late and, uh, keep late hours."

   "Does that mean I won't see you later on tonight?"

   "Uh, yes, I'd prefer it if you started staying in your own bed from now
on.  Like I said, you need your sleep."

   "Being with you helps me sleep better."

   "Please, just try to stay in your own bed tonight."

   "Okay, Mom, but make sure you keep your panties off just in case."

   For a brief moment Yvonne's anger flared but she kept her tongue.  The
boy had lost all respect for her.  "Good night, Paul."

   "Good night, Mom.  I love you."

   Yvonne knew her son had just lied to her.  The room reeked of sex.  The
unfortunate woman just couldn't bring herself to confront Paul or Carol. 
She had an appreciation now of what her mother went through in trying to
hold her family together.  Deny even the obvious and pray any problems
would just go away.  Yvonne feared confrontation would start the
disintegration of her family.  She had avoided confronting Peter on his
homosexuality and she would avoid confronting Paul on his problem, at least
until he regained his memory.



   ------

   Chapter 11

   Paul lay awake in his bed and thought about the brief encounter between
his mother and himself.  She was obviously suspicious.  She had every right
to be.  Yet, Yvonne didn't challenge her son's assertion that everything
was innocent.  The young boy realized he had his mother in a bit of a
dilemma.  She couldn't very well complain about his behavior to anyone
without the possibility of compromising herself.

   That suited Paul just fine.  Tomorrow he would concentrate on his new
seduction target: his ten year old sister, Elizabeth.  In the meantime he
should get some sleep.  He was tired enough although now he wanted to visit
his mom again and give her a good fucking.  Unless he had another
visitation from the former inhabitant of his body he'd unlikely wake up in
time.  That thought gave him an idea.  Why not go straight to his parents'
bedroom when his dad left for work?  Then he wouldn't have to worry about
waking up before everyone else.

   Paul looked at the clock.  It was likely his father was already gone. 
He got up and looked downstairs.  Everything seemed dark and quiet.  There
was light seeping from underneath his parents' bedroom door so he knocked
and opened it.  His mother was sitting on her bed, reading a magazine. 
"What is it, Paul?" Yvonne said.

   "Has Dad left yet?"

   "About ten minutes ago."

   "Good," Paul responded.  He walked in and closed the door behind him.

   Yvonne was getting nervous.  "Paul, it's time for you to go back to your
room and go to sleep.  Good night."

   "I want to sleep here with you."

   "No, Paul.  You're going to have to start getting used to sleeping alone
and in your own bed."

   "What difference does it make if I sleep with you?" He walked to the
side of the bed and sat down.

   "The difference is that I'm your mother.  Sons are not supposed to sleep
with their mothers."

   "I know you told me that earlier, Mom but we keep winding up in the same
bed together." He pulled back the covers and slipped into the bed.

   "You're being very rude, young man.  Your father would spank your bottom
good if I told him you were misbehaving this way.  Now please, son, go back
to your own bed.  We're going to have a big day tomorrow and you need your
rest."

   Paul snickered.  "Well, I wouldn't want Dad to spank me so I'll leave if
you really want me to."

   "I do want you to," Yvonne whimpered.  The poor woman was in a quandary.
She wanted to do what was morally right and send her son away.  She also
wanted to have her sexual needs taken care of and Paul was doing that in
spades.  Yvonne couldn't remember the last time her husband touched her in
a sexual way or even in an affectionate way.  There were so many things
that could go wrong.

   The joker in the deck was what she discovered this very evening: the
possibility of Paul having a sexual relationship with one of his sisters.
Possibility, poo!  As far as the pretty mother knew it was a fact.  If
Yvonne gave herself completely to her son, she might be able to satisfy him
enough so he'd leave Carol alone.  She reached out and took her son's hand.
"You love me very much, don't you Paul?"

   "I've always loved you, Mom."

   "I mean more than in the way a son should love his mother."

   "I guess that's true unless sons sleep with their mothers all the time."

   "Believe me they don't, Paul.  You're loving me in a way only a husband
should love his wife.  It's wrong and if anyone ever found out, a lot of
bad things would happen to us."

   "I understand that, Mom."

   "We could pretend we're husband and wife, if you'd like," she said as if
putting out a trial balloon.

   "Really?  That'd be great, Mom!" She's giving herself to me Paul
gloated.

   "You could keep coming to me after your father leaves for work and do
all the things husbands and wives do together."

   "I'm all for it, Mom." He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.  "I
could call you Yvonne when we're alone."

   "Yes, you could do that," said the pretty mother.  "But we'd have to
have some rules.  Secrecy is one rule.  I think you understand that. 
Fidelity is the other rule."

   "What's fidelity mean?" Paul thought he knew what was coming.

   "That means you'd always have to be true to me and not cheat on me with
other women.  Husbands are always true to their wives."

   "Gee, Mom.  I don't know any other women except for a couple of my
nurses at the hospital.  They were kind of pretty but not as pretty as
you."

   Yvonne blushed with the compliment.  Her son was making this very
difficult.  "Thank you," said his mother.  Well, one step at a time.  "Are
we agreed?"

   "I guess so," said Paul, "but doesn't that mean you'd be true to me?"

   "That's right," Yvonne responded encouragingly.  "A wife is always true
to her husband."

   "Well, how could you be true to me and be true to Dad at the same time?"

   The pretty mother blushed again.  "I don't think that will be a
problem." She stifled a sob.  "Your father has been very busy and gotten
involved in other things."

   "Oh," Paul said.  He now knew two things for sure.  His parents no
longer had a sexual relationship: probably his father was seeing another
woman.  Also, Yvonne was sure something was going on between him and Carol.
Paul wondered if she had any inkling of what was going on with her other
daughters.  She was offering herself as the sacrificial lamb.  "I notice
you don't wear a wedding ring."

   "We got married kind of sudden," said Yvonne.  "We went straight to the
justice of the peace.  We couldn't afford a ring and much less a church
wedding.  After you're married for a while, you kind of forget about such
niceties even when you can now afford it."

   "If you were really my wife, I'd want you to wear my ring." Paul swore
each of his women would be wearing his ring and that included his mother
and sisters.

   "I'd be proud to wear your ring, darling, if I were really your wife,"
said his mother and really meant it.  She knew Paul was romancing her but
he could do that all day and night if he wanted to.  She hadn't heard
compliments like those in a long time.  He'd matured greatly since the
accident, uncomfortably so.  Yvonne supposed that could happen when you
have such a close brush with death.  He should be out playing games with
his friends, not seducing his own mother.  Yvonne tried to close the deal
again.  "Are we agreed?"

   "I dunno," Paul said.  "Let me think about it." He wanted to be the one
who did the manipulating, not his mom.  "I guess I should leave now, huh?"

   Yvonne was taken aback by her son's attitude.  She could swear she was
being teased by the eleven-year-old snot.  Or was he rejecting her?  The
distraught mother was ashamed of her reactions: first of anger and then of
fear.  "I, uh, don't think it really matters when it's this late.  You
might as well stay."

   "Thanks, Mom." She gasped as Paul pulled her on top of his own body but
didn't protest.  What good would it do?  The boy kissed his mother deeply
and she responded in kind.  Yvonne felt her nightgown being pulled to her
waist.  She knew Paul would soon be slipping his giant prick inside her and
fucking her to a delicious cum.  Then another dose of his virile sperm
would be deposited into her unprotected womb.  It was something she dreaded
and yet welcomed at the same time.  The pretty mother knew the risk she was
taking by having unprotected sex with her son but he made her feel like a
desirable woman for the first time in a long while.

   Yvonne noticed her son hadn't made any promises of fidelity but at that
point, she didn't care.  She was reminded of the old saying: Why buy the
cow if you're getting the milk for free?  The pretty mother realized she
had to protect her daughter from Paul's sexual advances but she would deal
with that tomorrow.  Afterwards, mother and son cuddled together until they
fell asleep in each other's arms.

   Paul woke up alone the next morning, as usual.  His mom was certainly an
early riser.  He got up and made his way to his room.  He busied himself
with getting dressed so he didn't realize he wasn't alone until he heard a
voice behind him.

   "Why have you been ignoring me?" The voice startled the boy and he could
feel his heart racing.

   "Damn!  You scared me," he told Ann who he found lying in his bed under
the covers.

   "You didn't answer my question," she said.  Paul climbed into his bed
and kissed his youngest sister.

   "I'm sorry.  I've been kind of busy."

   "Busy fucking everybody except me," she huffed in a pretended snit.

   "That's not true.  I haven't even touched Elizabeth."

   "Are you going try it with her soon?"

   "As soon as I can get her alone," Paul assured her.

   Ann sighed.  "I wish you could fuck me too."

   "I would except you have such a little hole," he teased.

   "I've been trying to make it bigger.  Look," she said pulling down her
pajama bottoms and showing her brother her vulva.  It looked kind of red
and irritated to Paul.

   "I don't want you to go hurting yourself, Ann.  If Mom sees that, she'll
have a fit."

   "I don't care," the little girl insisted.  "I want you to fuck me soon."

   "Soon," Paul promised.  He wasn't sure how he could avoid hurting his
little sister but if she was willing, so was Paul.  "Mom's getting
suspicious.  She saw Carol coming out of my room last night."

   "Did you fuck her?" Paul smiled and nodded.  His sister smiled back and
nodded her approval.

   "I wish we could do something now," Ann complained again and then gasped
as Paul impulsively brought his face down to her immature snatch and began
to kiss and lick it.  "Oh, Paul," the little girl sighed in wonder as she
began to experience previously unknown feelings.  Ann was a little afraid
also but only because she was afraid of losing control and pissing on her
brother's face.  She wished she had visited the bathroom before sneaking
into her beloved brother's bed.  With a mixture of disappointment and
relief, Paul stopped.

   "How did that feel?"

   "It felt wonderful, Paulie.  I-I wish you could do it some more."

   "I will," Paul promised, "but that will have to do for now.  Everybody
is up and they could walk in on us at any minute.  Dad will be home soon
too."

   "Daddy's not coming home this morning."

   "What?"

   "I heard Mom and Dad talking.  He's going to go see some friends in New
York.  He won't be back until Monday."

   "Oh." That piece of information opened up a lot of possibilities.

   "Daddy was doing that all the time before you had your accident.  Now
that you're better I guess he wants to start doing it again."

   "I guess," Paul agreed.  "Let's get dressed and have breakfast.  I don't
want to be late for 'Peter Pan.'"

   "Me neither," said Ann excitedly.  She pulled her pajama bottoms back up
and rushed from the room but not without first giving her brother a quick
kiss.

   Paul stepped out the house for the first time since he came home from
the hospital.  There were plenty of boys playing in the street out front
and they seemed to turn around all at once to stare at him.  Paul felt
uncomfortable as he looked at all the unfamiliar faces, some of whom were
probably good friends of the real Paul.  After about ten seconds, which
seemed a lifetime to the eleven year old, the kids went back to their
activities.  The boy was sure he'd be the main topic of conversation once
he was around the corner and out of sight.

   Paul knew he had nothing in common with these children.  He wouldn't be
trying to build up any relationships with them.  Paul averted his head and
followed his family down the street to the bus stop.  He figured it would
be a thousand times worse at school on Monday.

   Paul's discomfort disappeared with the excitement of going to see 'Peter
Pan.' Even though he'd seen it many times on video in his former life, he'd
never seen it on the big screen and he watched with the same awe as any
other of the countless children who watched the film with him.

   Yvonne and the girls prepared lunch when they returned home.  Paul sat
down and relaxed in the living room.  He idly wondered how he was going to
get Elizabeth alone with him; probably it would be in the same way he got
Carol to come to his room.  After lunch, Yvonne announced she had to go
shopping.  Carol volunteered to go with her.  That wasn't surprising to
Paul.  His twelve year old sister had been acting pretty shy around him all
morning.

   Elizabeth had to catch up on some school work and would be studying that
afternoon.  He conferred with Debbie and Ann and told them to get lost for
a while after Yvonne and Carol left.  "What are you working on?" said Paul
to Elizabeth when they were finally alone.  He sat down beside her at the
table.

   "Mostly arithmetic but a little bit of everything," Elizabeth answered.

   "Can I help?"

   "Only if you've suddenly become a brain."

   "What do you mean by that?"

   "It means your grades aren't what they could be.  At least that's what
Mom and Dad have told you in the past.  You're not applying yourself."

   "So now I'm applying myself," said Paul.  He felt obliged to change some
perceptions about his scholarship.  Things looked pretty easy from what he
could see from peeking over her shoulder.  "What about you?"

   "Me?  I'm a dumb blonde."

   "I don't believe that." Paul slid a hand over his sister's thigh. 
Elizabeth stared at her brother but didn't try to move his hand away.

   "Are you going to do me now?"

   "Huh?"

   "I may be dumb but I see and hear things."

   "You know?"

   Elizabeth nodded her head.  "The walls are pretty thin and I heard
everything between you and Debbie.  I thought for sure all heck would break
loose but when it didn't I watched and listened some more.  I know about
what you did with Debbie, Ann, Carol and even Mom.  I knew I was next."

   "You didn't say anything, not even to Dad."

   Elizabeth shook her head.  "If I thought you were hurting Mom and the
others or making them unhappy, I would have told Dad.  But it seemed like
you were doing just the opposite even when they were telling you to stop.
Mom hasn't been this happy in a long time and it isn't just because you're
all better from the accident, except for your amnesia.  I don't understand
but I want to."

   Paul unbuttoned his fly and released his eight inch prick from its
confines.  He decided he sure lucked out when Elizabeth decided to keep her
mouth shut.  Apparently she didn't want to miss out on her turn.  "This is
the only thing you need to understand." Elizabeth looked a little surprised
and nervous but that didn't stop her from reaching out and grasping the
erect monster in her tiny hand.

   "You put this inside everyone?  Even Ann?"

   "Not Ann yet but she wants me to." He kissed his sister gently and said,
"Right now I want to put it inside you."

   Elizabeth was now frightened but she continued to handle her brother's
prick.  Unconsciously she began to stroke it to gauge its length and girth.
She couldn't believe something that large could be forced inside her
without killing her but Debbie and Carol had taken it and they seemed all
right.  "There isn't time.  Mom doesn't shop far from here and she'll be
back real soon."

   Paul supposed Elizabeth was right.  He really hadn't noticed his
mother's shopping habits.  "Tonight then," he declared.  "I'll come and get
you." His younger sister nodded dumbly in acknowledgement but Paul wanted
something more.  He moved his chair back and stood up with Elizabeth still
hanging onto his prick.  She blinked her eyes as if confused what Paul was
going to do or what he wanted.  Paul briefly wondered if the girl had ever
heard the term cocksucker.  She was about to become a cocksucker.

   The boy waited briefly to see if his sister took the hint but Elizabeth
looked up into his face as if seeking guidance.  "Kiss it," he urged.  "Put
it in your mouth and suck it." The young girl looked startled at what her
brother demanded but tentatively puckered her lips and quickly pecked at
Paul's prick head.  Paul smiled in approval.  Elizabeth would need a lot of
training to become an adequate cocksucker but he was pleased with his
sister's submissiveness.  "Open your mouth," Paul demanded.

   Without waiting for a response, Paul put his hand behind Elizabeth's
head and guided his prick inside her mouth.  The young girl didn't have a
chance to resist even though she thought about it.  Her brother's huge
prick was filling her mouth.  Her heart lurched with fear as she had a
little trouble breathing and was afraid of choking or suffocating.  Seeing
the panic in his sister's eyes, Paul released the grip on Elizabeth head.
He was glad she didn't try to pull away.

   Elizabeth found she could still breathe through her nose and quickly
adjusted.  Even though the ten year old had never before conceived of oral
sex, she instinctively knew her task and what her brother intended.  She
hoped he finished quickly.  She'd die of shame if their mother caught her
with Paul's prick in her mouth.  The pretty girl couldn't get much more
than the head of her brother's prick in her mouth plus a couple of inches
but she did her best.  In fact she did such a good job it wasn't more than
a couple of minutes before her brother was spurting his load inside her
mouth.  Elizabeth tried to pull away but no, Paul wasn't going to allow
that.  She would have to swallow.  The pretty girl was sure it wasn't
poisonous although she didn't like the slimy feel of it sliding down her
throat.

   Elizabeth looked up at her brother standing over her and felt a strange
humility.  If this was what it meant to be a woman, the young girl was glad
she was going to be a woman.  She loved her brother as a woman.  She knew
she could never be his wife but Elizabeth never wanted to leave him.  When
they grew up she would offer to keep house and cook for him even if he
married another woman and gave her his children.

   "Mom's coming," shouted Ann as she and Debbie raced into the house. 
Elizabeth quickly wiped her mouth to hide any tell tale signs of Paul's cum
and her brother quickly buttoned up.  The ten year old beauty looked
forward to later that night when her lover would come to her bed and take
her in the normal way.

   "What are you guys doing?" said Yvonne as hurried through the door.

   "Paul's helping me with my homework."

   "Good luck with that," said Carol.  "I keep explaining things to her but
she still has trouble."

   "I'll give her an incentive to learn," Paul.  The quicker she learned,
the more they'd be able to fuck.  He was looking forward to that evening.



   ------

   Chapter 12

   Paul worked with Elizabeth for about an hour, teaching her some math
shortcuts as well as some memory tricks.  He then tested his sister with a
few difficult problems from her textbook, which she answered correctly. 
The ten-year-old stared at her brother with a look of love and gratitude.
Paul established his sexual dominance over his younger sister and then
tutored her in math in return, a good bargain indeed to Elizabeth.

   Elizabeth went to show her mom the result of her quiz while Paul
considered the evening to come.  Paul guessed she was still too young to
multiply (heh heh!) but not too young or too small to take his prick inside
her body.  In fact, he saw very little reason why Ann shouldn't be broken
in soon also.  Well, that wasn't quite true but there seemed to be a force
outside of Paul, which told him to ignore all common sense and go with his
desires.

   Elizabeth returned from showing off her schoolwork.  She looked very
pleased and very adoring toward her brother.  Paul sensed there was very
little, if anything, that she wouldn't do for him now.  Elizabeth was his
for life and he would have a very easy time of it later that evening. 
Carol was something different.  She was making a point of avoiding her
brother.  The twelve-year-old was probably going through a period of guilt.
The worse thing that could happen would be for her to blurt out her
brother's misdeeds to their mother or anyone else for that matter.  Paul
decided he would have to talk to her soon.

   Carol was spending a lot of time with her mother.  She probably thought
she'd be safe when Yvonne was near.  Paul wandered over to the kitchen
where Carol was helping her mother bake cookies.

   "They smell delicious.  Can I have a couple?" said Paul.

   "The first batch isn't even out of the oven yet, Paul," said his mom. 
"Maybe in about 30 minutes, after they cool.  By the way, that was very
nice of you to help your sister with her schoolwork."

   "It was nothing at all," the boy responded.  He went to the refrigerator
and poured a glass of milk, then sat down at the table and began to leer at
his older sister.  Carol noticed right away.  She blushed and became very
nervous.

   "Do you still need my help, Mom?"

   "I think I can handle it, dear if you want to do something else."

   "I think I'll just go to my room and read.  I have a new book from the
library."

   "That's nice," said Yvonne.  "I used to like to read: Nancy Drew,
actually."

   Carol giggled.  "That's exactly what I'm reading."

   "I know how it ends," Paul volunteered.  "Do you want to know how it
ends?"

   "You don't know how it ends," Carol countered.  "You don't even read
Nancy Drew.  The only things you read are comic books."

   Paul leaned forward in a confidential manner and said, "Nancy brings the
bad guys to justice."

   "Very funny," said Carol.  "I'll be up in my room if you need me, Mom."
That's exactly what I want you to do thought Paul as he watched his sister
leave the room.  He'd be following her shortly.

   "Don't tease your sister so much," said Yvonne after she left.  She
really wanted to tell him not to touch his sister any more.

   "Okay," said Paul.  "I'd much rather tease my wife." The boy smiled as
Yvonne looked startled.

   "Hush," she admonished and looked around warily.  "Elizabeth is in the
next room." Paul held out his hand.  Yvonne took another quick look around
and walked over.  "Don't start anything," she whispered but leaned down and
gave her son a furtive kiss.

   "I don't want to start anything right now anyway," Paul responded.  "I
wouldn't want you to burn the cookies."

   "The cookies!" Yvonne gasped and retreated to the oven.  Paul finished
his milk while watching his mom take one sheet of cookies out of the oven
and replace it with another.  He got up and went upstairs.  Carol must be
curled up nice and cozy with her book by now and Paul wanted to join her.

   "What do you want, Paul?" said a startled Carol as her brother walked
into her room without knocking.  She was lying on her bed, reading her
book. She started to rise.  She didn't want to be alone with her brother,
knowing what might happen.

   "Just stay where you are," Paul ordered.

   "I won't do what you want," Carol declared but she didn't move from the
bed.  "This is wrong."

   "I'll decide what's wrong and I'll decide what's right." He sat down on
his sister's bed and took the book out of her hands.

   "Someone else may come in," the pretty girl protested as her brother lay
down beside her and began to kiss her.  Despite her fear and nervousness,
Carol began to respond to her brother's attentions and return his kisses.
She could feel the length of his huge prick lodged between them.  The girl
couldn't believe something so huge had been inside her just the night
before.  Was he going to do it again in broad daylight?  They'd be caught
for sure.

   "It doesn't matter."

   "It matters to me," said Carol.  "I don't anyone finding out what we're
doing."

   "Mom saw you coming out of my room last night.  I'm pretty sure she
knows what we did."

   "What?" Carol felt faint and would have fainted if she weren't lying
down.

   "Everyone else knows, too: well, except for Dad."

   "You-you told everyone?" Carol couldn't believe her brother had betrayed
her like this.

   "Not exactly.  It's just that they were already part of the secret.  I
already slept with Mom and Debbie before I slept with you.  Ann saw me with
Debbie and wants it also but she's too small.  I haven't slept with
Elizabeth yet but I will tonight.  She's very observant and already knows
what I've been up to."

   "I don't believe you," whispered his stunned sister.

   "You don't have to believe what I tell you but seeing is believing. 
Just watch what happens tonight.  You'll have a front row seat watching
Elizabeth and me go at it."

   "But why?"

   Paul shrugged his shoulders.  "I've been trying to figure that out
myself.  I guess my brains got scrambled in that accident.  The only thing
I know is that I don't want to stop.  It's like I can't stop."

   "But you must stop, Paul.  If someone tells Dad-."

   "Dad will probably kill Mom and me if he finds out," said Paul.  "Then
he'll probably get sent to prison and perhaps be put to death in the
electric chair.  The rest of the family will probably be sent to an
orphanage or split up among the other relatives.  Are you going to be the
one to tell him?"

   Carol shook her head slowly.  The implications of their father knowing
what was going on were mind boggling.  She'd take the secret of what she
knew to the grave.  "That's good," said Paul.  There's nothing like a
little scare to reinforce the need to keep secrets.  The boy returned to
kissing and caressing his sister.  "There's something else I want to tell
you.  I feel like you've been trying to avoid me today and I don't like it.
Don't try it again." Paul's tone of voice sent a thrill through the young
girl.  Carol knew she would never knowingly disobey her brother again.

   Carol heard the telltale sound of the zipper from the fly of her
brother's trousers.  Paul was going to expose himself.  The pretty
twelve-year-old wondered if her brother was going to fuck her again.  He
could if he wanted.  Carol didn't seem to have any say in the matter of
what she wanted or didn't want with regard to Paul.  She no longer had any
doubt of Paul's claims that he had slept with or would sleep with her
mother and other sisters.  Carol felt better knowing she wasn't being
singled out.

   It was dark when Carol first saw or rather felt, her brother's prick and
she was curious to see it in the light of day.  The helplessness the pretty
girl felt freed up her inhibitions against exploring her sensual nature. 
There was no sense in putting up a show of resistance when even her mother
was doing Paul's bidding.

   Carol felt herself lubricating and now wished he would fuck her.  It
wouldn't be ladylike to express her desires though.  Carol would try to
remain a passive recipient of her brother's desires.

   A knock on the door startled both of them.  "Just a moment," Carol
called as calmly as she could.  Paul had already slipped off the bed and
zipped up his trousers.  Carol sat primly on the bed and said, "Come in."
The door opened and Elizabeth walked in.  Her older sister blushed
furiously.  Elizabeth would never have knocked at the door of her own room
unless she knew something improper was going on inside.  The knowing smirk
on her face just confirmed it.

   "Mom says to come on down for some milk and cookies." She smirked again
and walked out.

   "Don't worry," said Paul.  "She won't say anything."

   "I'm not worried," Carol responded.  She was annoyed at being
interrupted.  She was irritated that everyone knew what was going on before
her.  She was jealous at the prospect of sharing her brother's favors.  She
was not worried.

   The cookies still weren't quite ready when everyone gathered in the
kitchen.  Paul decided his mom sent Elizabeth upstairs just in case he was
doing something improper with Carol.  He wasn't sure how he was going to
handle that situation.  He didn't want his mother interfering with his fun.

   They started talking about Paul starting back to school the following
Monday.  Their mom suggested the girls escort him during recess and lunch
time so he could get used to things and be reintroduced to his school
mates. Paul didn't want them to bother but didn't know how to refuse. 
Telling them he'd already been through fifth grade and indeed, all the way
through high school and college, was a sure way to get sent to a shrink or
shipped to a funny farm.  There was so much more he could be doing during
the school day like staying home and getting his brains fucked out by his
mother.  The eleven-year-old sighed in resignation.  Things could only get
more complicated for him if he didn't start accepting his new life and
start doing things which were considered normal for a boy of his age, at
least for appearance's sake.

   After the snack, Paul asked his sisters to sit down with him and brief
him on what to expect and who to avoid at school.  He also asked them the
same thing about the neighborhood.

   "You know all the kids on our street and all the kids know you," said
Debbie.  "At least that was true before your accident.  Tommy Zook is your
best friend but I haven't seen him around lately."

   "Tommy Zook moved away last month," said Elizabeth.  "His dad got a job
in California."

   "Do I have any enemies?" Paul said.

   "There are boys you don't like and boys who don't like you but I
couldn't say you have any enemies," said Carol.  "I go to a junior high
school so I won't be there to help you but if anyone tries to bother you,
just let me know.  I'll take care of them."

   "Me, too," Ann said with a determined look on her face.

   Paul had to laugh.  He could just imagine his sisters coming to his
rescue if he got into some kind of trouble.  On second thought, it wasn't
so funny.  His peers would look on him as some kind of weakling who
couldn't defend himself.  He'd better be able to take care of himself.

   After about an hour of asking questions and getting answers, Paul
decided he couldn't gain any more by continuing the session.  In his short
lifetime, Paul had neither distinguished himself academically nor
athletically.  He had had a few friends but he wasn't the most popular guy
around and he wasn't unpopular either.  Basically, the boy was a nonentity.
That suited Paul just fine.  If nothing was expected of him, then the fewer
chances he had of making mistakes that would raise questions among his
peers and teachers.

   Before the accident, Paul had just been his sisters' brother and
accepted that way along with the irritations of being a boy in virtually a
house of females with just one bathroom.  His favorite pastimes were
reading comic books and riding his bike.  He usually went bike riding with
other boys but on the day of the accident he had been alone.  Apparently,
no one in the family had much of a relationship with their father because
of his working at night and sleeping during the day.

   After supper, the family gathered in the living room and listened to
music.  It was all pre-Rock but pleasant enough to listen to.  Paul wasn't
sure what year Elvis Presley took America by storm but not yet, apparently.
Yvonne was teaching the girls how to knit but Paul just sat around.  He was
preoccupied with how he was going to be with Elizabeth with his mother on
the alert.  Perhaps she thought Carol was the only one she had to worry
about.

   "Would you three like to stay up a little longer?" Yvonne was speaking
to Paul, Debbie and Carol.

   "We want to stay up longer too," Ann complained but couldn't restrain a
yawn.

   "Maybe when you're a little older," said her mother.  "Now, you and
Elizabeth go get ready for bed and I'll be up to tuck you both in."

   Paul just shrugged his shoulders.  He didn't mind staying up longer. 
Debbie and Carol didn't mind either for they just continued on with their
knitting.  The boy figured his mother had some ulterior motive but he
couldn't see how she could stop him from getting what he wanted.  When
Yvonne went upstairs to see to the younger girls Debbie said, "Do you think
you'll have trouble doing Elizabeth tonight?" Paul and Carol gasped.

   "Quiet, Debbie!" Carol hissed and turned worried eyes toward the stairs.

   "Mom can't hear us," Debbie responded, "and I think we should stop
pretending we don't know what's going on between each other, Carol.  You
and I have both slept with our brother.  So has Mom, for that matter.  Ann
and Elizabeth are next.  Let's at least discuss it between the three of
us."

   "I-I don't want to talk about it now," Carol insisted.  Her face was a
bright pink.

   "I don't think I'm ready to talk about it now either," said Paul, "but I
think you do have a good idea.  Maybe we can talk when we're sure we'll be
alone."

   "Well, I'd like to bring Mom in on it also.  She has to know we think
it's okay so she doesn't worry so much." Debbie stopped talking and once
again concentrated on her knitting when she heard her mother's step on the
stairs.

   "You look a little flushed, Carol," said her mother.  "Are you feeling
all right?"

   "I'm feeling fine, Mom," Carol responded, "but I guess I am a little
more tired than I thought.  I think I'll go to bed." She bussed her
mother's cheeks and headed upstairs.

   "I'm tired too," said Debbie.  "I'm going to bed myself."

   "Well," said Yvonne, "are you going to stay up with your mother and keep
her company for a while?"

   "Sure I will, Mom," said Paul.  Things became quiet after a while.  The
radio was off and the boy could no longer hear the girls moving around
upstairs.  The only sounds were the tick tock of the hall clock and the
click clack of the knitting needles.  "Is there anything you wanted to talk
about?" Paul said.

   "Not especially," said Yvonne.  "I was just feeling kind of lonely
tonight and I wanted my children's company for a while longer."

   "You must get lonely a lot with Dad gone as much as he is." Yvonne
shrugged her shoulders and kept silent.  Paul could tell it was a sensitive
subject but he wanted to know more.  "Where does Dad go on the weekends?"

   "He visits friends," Yvonne responded.

   "Are they your friends, too?  Why aren't you going with him?  Something
doesn't seem right."

   How can I tell him the truth about what his father had become thought
Yvonne.  The way he's going he'll find out sooner rather than later.  His
probing questions and astute observations were frightening in a boy youth.
"You'll have to ask your father about that," the woman said, dismissing the
subject.  "Let's talk about something a little more pleasant, okay?"

   "I find your body a lot more pleasant," said the boy.

   "You're terrible," she murmured but with a faint smile on her face.

   "C'mere." He patted the place beside him on the sofa.

   The older woman glanced quickly toward the stairs.  She put down her
knitting and moved to sit down by her son.  She had been dreading these
encounters but now...  something was changing...  her attitude perhaps...
Yvonne was looking forward to being alone with this young man; her own son.
She was sure it was indicative of a self-destructive urge but she was ready
to choose the devil himself if he would provide companionship for the
lonely woman.  Yvonne slid into her son's arms and laid her head on his
shoulder.  He seemed to sense her need just to be held and allowed her to
relax in his embrace.  After a few minutes, though, the boy's hand cupped a
boob and began to gently caress the nipple to stiffness.  "Are you ready
for bed?" the boy's mother asked.  The meaning was unambiguous and Paul
nodded his head.  "Follow me up in ten minutes," Yvonne added.

   "Why don't we go up together?"

   "I still feel a little shy around you," Yvonne explained, "and I don't
want you to see me undressing.  I hope you don't mind."

   "I want you to be comfortable whenever we're together...  and whatever I
do for that matter."

   "I'll try." Yvonne began to get nervous wondering what Paul meant by
that last statement.  Was he referring to him and Carol?  Why did he need
his sister too when the boy should have all he needed with his mother?

   "I might stay down here a little longer than ten minutes, Mom." If she
thought he was down here, Paul thought he might have time to visit
Elizabeth without having to sneak out of his mother's bed later on that
night and possibly wake her up.

   "All right, dear." Paul waited a full ten minutes before climbing the
stairs as quietly as possible and making his way to Carol and Elizabeth's
room.  He slipped into the darkened room and waited for his eyes to adjust
to the darkness.

   "She's waiting for you in your room," said Carol's voice.

   "Thanks," said Paul.  He stepped to her bed, sat down and leaned toward
his older sister for a kiss but she moved her head away.

   "I don't want this, Paul," said the twelve-year-old beauty in a voice
heavy with emotion.  "Debbie may like the idea of being one of your women
but I don't.  I don't care what you do with Mom or the others but I want
you to leave me alone.  Please!" she begged.  "I won't say a word to
anyone."

   Paul felt irritated with his sister.  If he had the time, he could
probably deal with her little rebellion just like earlier but he still
wanted to visit Elizabeth.  "Fine," he said.  "Good night." He knew he
could do well enough without Carol but he didn't want to.  She seemed fine
earlier in the day right up to the time Debbie started talking about sex
with a sibling as if it was an every day topic.  He'd have to talk to his
oldest sister about opening her mouth without checking with him first.

   "I thought you weren't going to come," said Elizabeth as her brother
slipped through the door of his room.

   "I can't stay long or Mom will get suspicious and come looking for me.
Do you want to put it off until later?"

   "Do it now," the pretty ten-year-old declared.  "I want it." Paul
stripped naked and climbed under the covers with his equally naked sister.

   "You won't like it much this first time.  It'll hurt like crazy."

   "I know that," said Elizabeth.  "Debbie told me." She showed her brother
a dainty little handkerchief.  "She said to bite down on it so I won't
scream too loud." Good old Debbie had been talking again.

   "You're very brave and I love you for it.  Give me a kiss and then bite
down on the cloth." There was no gentle way of taking her cherry but that's
exactly what he was going to do.

   Elizabeth gave her brother a childish kiss and said, "I love you, Paul,"
and then closed her eyes like the virgin sacrifice she was and stuffed the
handkerchief in her mouth.  The boy mounted his little sister and ran his
prick head along her virgin slit.  She was lubricating nicely.  Without
warning, Paul flexed his hips and thrust inside her once, twice, three
times.  He heard his sister's muffled scream and saw the reflection of
tears coursing down her cheeks in the ambient light, all to be expected but
at least he was inside her.  It would be easier the next time.

   What Paul didn't expect was the loving smile he saw when Elizabeth
removed the handkerchief.  "I'm yours forever now, Paul," the little girl
whispered.  "Even if you never touch me again, I'll always be yours."

   "You little darling, of course you're mine forever," Paul whispered
back. "There will be lots of times after this, I promise." The boy began to
thrust inside his sister again, not out of any sense of love but to open
her up and have her get used to his prick.  He also wanted to cum inside
her as a symbol of his dominance and ownership of the young girl.  He
picked up his pace.  In the back of his mind was the need to go to his
mother's bedroom before she came looking for him.  Paul got his wish a few
minutes later when he sprayed copious amounts of sperm inside her immature
cunt.  "Go get cleaned up and go to sleep in your own bed," he advised.  He
kissed Elizabeth once more, got dressed in his pajamas and crept down the
hall to his mother's bedroom.

   "I was afraid you fell asleep downstairs," said Yvonne.

   "I did fall asleep," said Paul.  "I guess I was more tired than I
thought.  Let's not do anything tonight, okay?" He cuddled up to his mother
and gave her a kiss.  "Good night, Yvonne.  I love you."

   "Good night, Paul.  I love you too."



   ------

   Chapter 13

   Finally!  Yvonne thought as she felt her son's stiff prick seeking
entrance to her already moistening cunt.  The pretty mother hated to admit
to herself that she was disappointed when Paul didn't want to use her when
he came to her bed earlier.  The glowing dial on her bedroom clock told her
it was after three in the morning but better late than never.  A litany of
dire consequences flitted through her mind as it had each time the young
boy had come to her but Yvonne couldn't resist him.  Paul was in control.

   It was bad enough that Paul was using his mother in a sinful manner but
now Yvonne had to worry about her daughters, Paul's sisters.  She had a
feeling it wasn't just Carol who was a target of the boy's lust.  The
children's mother decided to beg her son not to abuse his sisters and be
satisfied with using her but what if Paul refused?  What could she do about
it if he decided to ignore her; basically nothing.  Yvonne shuddered
through an orgasm as her eleven-year-old son casually sawed his eight-inch
prick in and out of his mother's cunt.  It made it so hard to concentrate
on her worries.

   It was Sunday morning now and Yvonne would soon be getting up to get the
children ready for Mass.  She realized she couldn't take Holy Communion
with this sin on her conscience but she was afraid to confess her sins and
seek absolution.  The priest would demand she cease her incestuous
activities but the distraught mother wouldn't want to obey even with her
immortal soul at stake.  As if to emphasize her predicament, Paul brought
his mother to a mind-shattering orgasm just before dumping a copious load
of incestuous sperm in her fertile womb.

   Yvonne knew she risked being impregnated with her son's sperm.  Indeed,
she might, even now, be pregnant with her son's child.  How could she ever
explain it to Peter, her husband?  Simple enough she decided: Yvonne would
admit to a one-night stand with a total stranger.  That solution presented
its own list of risks and consequences, considering what had happened with
her father, but at least Paul would be protected.  Well, Peter wasn't
exactly blameless.  She was sure she would never have allowed her son to
use her if she and Peter had had good marital relations.  Despite her
rationalizations, Yvonne couldn't help feeling guilty for deceiving her
husband.  Peter was a good man and a good husband before...  whatever
happened, happened.  Why do I have such rotten luck with men thought
Yvonne.

   Paul fussed with his tie as he got ready for church.  It would be his
first Mass and he worried about what was expected of him.  He knew the
Roman Catholic Masses were said in Latin in 1953 and he didn't know much
Latin at all outside of E Pluribus Unum.  The boy didn't want to make a
fool of himself or embarrass his family.  Well, the only thing he could do
was follow his mother's and his sisters' leads.

   Yvonne and the girls were also dressed in their Sunday best.  They sure
looked beautiful and...  innocent.  A wave of self disgust enveloped the
eleven-year-old as he realized the corruption he'd wrought on this lovely
family since he'd come into their lives.  If there was a just God, He
should strike Paul dead right this moment and save this family from his
uncontrolled lust or at least bring back the real Paul.  He wasn't raised
to be like this and it just plain scared him.

   "Wake up, Paul."

   "Huh?  What?  I'm awake.  What did you say?"

   "I asked if you were ready to go," said Debbie.  "Everyone's waiting for
you downstairs."

   Paul looked at the 13-year-old beauty standing before him and all
disgust and doubts about his actions were gone.  All he wanted to do now
was throw Debbie on the bed and fuck her.  "Yeah, I'm ready to go."

   "If you're still not feeling well, I'm sure Mom will let you stay home
today."

   "N-no, I'm all right.  Let's go."

   Debbie leaned over in a confidential manner and said, "Ann isn't a
virgin any more."

   "What?  What are you talking about?  Did some guy from school do it to
her?" Paul was beginning to feel angry about someone else messing around
with what he considered his private stock.  In fact, he felt positively
murderous.

   "She did herself," Debbie replied.

   "Oh, gosh.  I hope she didn't hurt herself." He was relieved no one else
had touched her.

   "She's a little sore but she wants you to come to her tonight." Paul
didn't reply as he walked downstairs but when he saw Ann waiting by the
door and smiling at him, he could feel his prick begin to twitch in his
pants.

   Paul tried to pray hard for guidance and deliverance from his evil deeds
during Mass but all he could think about was Ann, his nine-year-old sister,
being the coming evening's entertainment.  Even when he tried not to think
of Ann, he wound up thinking of his mother or one of his other sisters and
how he loved fucking them.  Poor Carol.  She was deluding herself if she
thought she could persuade her brother to leave her alone.  The fact that
his twelve-year-old sister was still trying to resist his advances gave her
a special place in his dark heart.  At least, she wasn't as easy as the
others.

   After Mass, Paul and his family returned home and had a late breakfast.
The boy figured he could relax the rest of the day and think of starting
school the next day.  He was a little worried about that but what could he
do?  Even if he could prove he was now a boy genius, he was still likely to
be compelled to attend school.  Well, at least there was Ann to look
forward to that evening but first he wanted to solve the problem of a
rebellious little minx named Carol.

   The weather was rotten outside and so no one ventured out of doors. 
Carol was playing her little trick of sticking close to their mother or
with one of her sisters.  Paul figured it shouldn't matter if he couldn't
catch Carol alone as long as Yvonne wasn't around.  After all, Debbie,
Elizabeth and Ann were already in his hip pocket so when he knew Carol and
Elizabeth were in their room, he knocked on the door and strolled in. 
Elizabeth greeted him with a smile and Carol immediately looked
apprehensive.  "May I speak to you alone, Carol?" he said very nicely.

   "Stay here, Elizabeth," said Carol when she saw her sister begin to move
toward the door.

   "I don't mind if Elizabeth stays here and watches," said Paul with a
smile.  He moved quickly to his older sister and embraced her.

   "No, Paul!" Carol tried to push herself away from her brother but he was
too strong.  She shook her head in a mute plea for mercy but Paul only
smiled back and moved his hands down to her trim hips.  "Not in front of
Elizabeth...  please!" she begged.

   "Make up your mind, Carol," Paul replied.  "I just heard you tell
Elizabeth to stay.  Honestly, I don't mind if you call Ann and Debbie in
here, too.  Do you want them to watch also?  We can have a regular audience
if you'd like."

   "I'll get them," Elizabeth offered.

   "No!" Carol wailed.  "This is so wrong, Paul," she said trying reason
with her brother.

   "We've already been through this," Paul said, "and I thought I made it
clear to you I'm not going to stop what I'm doing unless you tell Dad."

   "Please don't tell Daddy, Carol," Elizabeth pleaded.  "I love Paul.  So
do the others and I know you do too."

   "I love him like a brother...  not like this."

   "That's not true," Elizabeth countered.  "I see how you look at Paul
when you know he's not looking.  I may not be the smartest person in this
house but I know what love looks like."

   Carol blushed deeply.  She was ashamed of her feelings for her brother
and that they had been so transparent to her younger sister.  "What I feel
toward you still doesn't make things right," the lovely twelve-year-old
told her brother.  Tears glistened in her eyes.  "And all you've talked
about is what you want.  I haven't heard you say you loved me, not even a
little bit."

   Is that the problem thought Paul.  I'll tell I love her all day and all
night if that's what she wants to hear.  "I know I've been a big dumb jerk
about things," said Paul, "but please don't think I don't love you because
I do love you.  It just isn't going to change what I want to do."

   "Do you love me too, Paul?" said Elizabeth.

   "Of course I do," replied her brother.

   "Maybe you should say that a lot to all of us," said his little sister.
Carol nodded her head in agreement and smiled faintly.  She didn't resist
when Paul kissed her tenderly.

   "I'll be all right now," said Carol with a shrug of her shoulders.  She
wasn't happy with the situation but it seemed the best she could do.  "You
don't have to worry about me." Paul nodded and smiled.  This was easier
than he thought it would be.  He briefly considered having her do something
in front of Elizabeth but decided it would be counterproductive.  Paul
would save that for later.  He turned to Elizabeth and kissed her also.

   "You actually may be smarter than all of us in this house put together,"
Paul told his little sister.  She smiled shyly with the compliment.

   Paul was glad about the little crisis with Carol had been resolved with
a minimum of fuss.  All the girls now accepted their brother's sexual
domination of them.  His mother was also under his thumb but Paul wasn't
sure if Yvonne was ready to accept what her son was doing to his sisters.
Well, what choice did she have?  She couldn't exactly confide in Dad
without her own incestuous involvement with her son coming to light and
Paul couldn't think of any other alternatives Yvonne might have.

   Paul's original thought of blackmailing his mother would only come as a
last resort.  He had a real affection for Yvonne apart from his sexual lust
and didn't want to humiliate the woman if he could possibly avoid it.  The
real trick would be how his mother could save face while standing by and
allowing her children to engage in acts of sexual depravity.

   The eleven-year-old boy still hadn't come up with a solution to deal
with his father.  It was only a matter of time before Peter discovered what
was going on in his own house and involving his entire family.  Could he
talk Yvonne into divorcing her husband?  Paul thought it unlikely. 
No-fault divorce was still almost two decades in the future and the nasty
details might come out in a disputed divorce.  There was also the fact of
the family being Catholic; divorce wasn't a solution if someone wanted to
remain in good standing with the Church.  That was still the policy in the
year 2002 as far as he knew from talking to his Catholic acquaintances.

   Still, something wasn't right in his parents' marriage.  Peter was
barely home except to sleep during the work week but what about the
weekend? From talking to his mother, it was likely her husband wouldn't
even be home until Tuesday morning and then he would go straight to bed. 
What kind of marriage was that?  What did his father do over the weekend?
Paul would give a nickel to know, if he had a nickel.  Do I even get an
allowance the boy wondered.  He had to ask his mother about that.

   Paul spent some of the afternoon talking to his sisters.  Ann and Debbie
already seemed to know about their brother's téte a téte with Carol. 
Elizabeth must have already supplied the details to them.  At least Debbie
didn't bring it up in conversation until the two of them were alone.  He
was grateful for that.

   "When are you going to fuck me?" Ann said.

   "Tonight, I think." Paul blushed with the brazenness of the
nine-year-old's question.  He was glad they were alone.  The boy wondered
why he was embarrassed.  He was, after all, the cause of this pretty,
little girl's corruption.

   "Why don't you fuck me now?" The young lass reached for her brother's
rapidly stiffening prick and began to caress it through the fabric of his
trousers.  "I can ask Debbie and the others to keep Mom busy, and then you
and I can be alone."

   "I really should," Paul mused aloud.  It was getting hectic at night
with his mother's suspicions at a high level and him having to sneak around
to get a few precious but stolen moments with his sisters.  He didn't want
to do that much longer because now he had to worry about going to school
the next day.  The fifth grade!  Sheesh!

   Still, Paul wasn't quite yet ready to present his mother with a fait
accompli.  He still wanted to solve the mystery his parents seemed to be
hiding.  Maybe he could use that somehow.  He also wanted to find out what
those dreams had been about.  The real Paul hadn't come to him in his
dreams lately.  Were the dreams just his own feelings of guilt for what
happened to this couple's son?  Yeah, that's probably what they were; guilt
trips.  He hadn't done anything wrong to wind up in this boy's body but the
former Philip Grady was sure going to take advantage of the situation
presented to him.  He already had five beautiful mistresses.  With his new
prick size and attitude he was sure to attract more beauties.  Heh, he had
this future, his old past, to live all over again and he was going to do it
in style.  "What are you doing?" Paul said.  Ann was already pulling down
her pants and climbing on the bed.  "I wanted to think about it and we
haven't warned Debbie anyway."

   "I already took care of that," the nine-year-old beauty replied and
affected a pose in her birthday suit that reminded Paul of Marilyn Monroe.
That actress was shortly due to attain Hollywood mega stardom and Paul
supposed only he knew how far she would rise and how short her life would
be.  "I knew you wouldn't want to waste any time."

   "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Paul said as he
unbuckled his belt and let his pants down.  It was a rhetorical question.
The boy wasn't about to let his sister escape getting fucked now.  He
quickly stripped down and climbed onto the bed with Ann.  I'm a certified
pedophile now thought Paul.  A little girl had never looked so sexy to Paul
with her flat chest and bare snatch.

   "What do you think, silly?" Ann spread her legs and gave her brother an
encouraging smile but when he covered her body with his own, the lovely
girl became serious.  "Debbie said you told her you'll take good care of us
no matter what happens."

   "That's true," Paul responded.  "I mean it too."

   "Then I know I'm doing the right thing, Paulie.  I love you very much."

   "And I love you, Annie." Paul kissed his little sister tenderly but
gradually coaxed open her mouth and taught her a little tongue play.  She
was a quick learner and responded in kind.  Paul was already hot but he
wanted to get Ann hot too.  He knew he was going to hurt the little girl
when he pushed his eight-inch prick inside her tiny hole.  It would pay to
have Ann experience a little pleasure before the pain but she seemed to
know what he was trying to do.

   "Fuck me right now, Paulie," Ann whispered in his ear.  "Make me your
woman just like you did Mom and the others." She reached for her brother's
stiff prick and placed at her vulva.  "Don't be afraid of hurting me.  I
can take it." She rubbed the boy's prick head along her moistening slit. 
Oh shit thought Paul.  She's going to make me come if she keeps that up. 
Paul didn't want to be brutal but if she was that anxious...  he flexed his
hips and thrust his prick head just inside his little sister's cunt.  Ann
gasped with surprise and Paul could tell he hurt her.  Well, if she wants
to be a big girl she'd better learn to take it.

   Paul went as slow as he could reasonably make it but he was relentless
in pushing his prick inside the little girl's snatch stopping only when he
bumped her cervix.  "Oh, shit!" he hissed.  "You're so tight.  I'm gonna
cum in about five seconds if I'm not careful."

   "That's all right," Ann replied and instinctively flexed her newly
stretched vaginal muscles to make it happen.  She'd overestimated her
capacity for pain and desperately wanted relief from her brother's prick.
The little girl sighed in relief as she felt his wetness spurt inside her
and a lessening of the pressure.  She knew her beloved brother had come
inside her and made her a woman, a very satisfying experience despite the
pain.

   "It'll get better," Paul assured his little sister and kissed her again.
He pulled out of Ann with a big plop.  My prick is so sore after that he
thought.  Maybe I should give it a rest for a couple of days.  No way, he
decided.  Maybe he could bed both Debbie and his mother before Monday
rolled around.  He'd been ignoring his oldest sister for a couple of days
and he didn't want her to go without.

   "I know that from listening to Debbie," said Ann.  She started cleaning
herself up and getting dressed.  Debbie the veteran passing on her wisdom
to the new recruits thought Paul with a smile.

   Paul spent the rest of the afternoon strutting around the house like a
rooster in the hen house.  This was his domain as far as he was concerned.
That other guy, who seemed to live here occasionally, his father, didn't
seem anything other than a supplier of a paycheck to the family.  That was
okay with Paul.  He'd gladly take his father's place in the marriage bed.
The eleven-year-old managed to grope everyone in the house at least twice
but didn't try to get Debbie alone with him.  Now that he was the master of
the house, he didn't have the same frantic feelings as did when he was
trying to seduce everyone.  Ann was walking kind of gingerly because of the
soreness between her legs but she was in a good mood also.

   It was bedtime before he knew it and Paul began to get nervous about
what he would face at school.  It was a whole new audience and he didn't
want to stand out but the eleven-year-old realized he'd be a curiosity
object for at least the first couple of days before his fellow pupils would
lose interest.  Then Paul could sink back into anonymity among the faceless
crowd.  After all, the only thing he cared about was being at home and
having sex with his mother and sisters.

   The boy was lying on his bed and already in his pajamas when there was a
knock at the door and his mother walked in.  "May I speak with you, Paul?"
she said.

   "Sure, Mom," Paul replied.  "What's on your mind?"

   "I, uh, just want to remind you that tomorrow's another big day for you
and you should get plenty of rest."

   "That's fine with me." She's asking me not to come to her room thought
Paul.

   "Good," said Yvonne.  "Your sisters also need their rest," she added. 
There was a lot left unsaid but putting two and two together in this case
was pretty easy.  Paul's mom probably knew a lot more about what was going
on than he originally thought and she was asking him to leave the girls
alone.  Oh well.  Thin walls work both ways.

   "I completely agree, Mom." Yvonne was expecting an argument with her son
and she dreaded the prospect.  She was quite surprised when she didn't get
it.  The pretty mother was more suspicious than relieved but it was getting
late and there always tomorrow.

   "Well then, good night, Paul."

   "Good night, Mom.  I love you."

   "And I love you, my darling son," Yvonne responded with a catch in her
voice.  Why is it so hard to keep away from my own son, the woman wondered.
It was getting so that all he had to do beckon with his finger and she
would come to him and...  do anything he wanted.

   Later, Yvonne was brushing her hair in front of her vanity mirror before
turning in when she saw her bedroom door open.  Paul walked in without
saying a word and got in her bed.  The pretty mother didn't utter a word of
protest.  She continued to brush her hair and when she was finished, she
turned out the light, took off her robe and got into bed with her beloved
son.

   School on Monday morning didn't start out exactly as Paul expected.  He
was met at the schoolhouse door by a nice lady who called herself Dr. 
Wilson and was some sort of psychologist.  She took Paul in an office and
asked him all kinds of questions about how he was feeling and his thoughts
about returning to school after his recent accident and illness.  Well,
thought Paul, I guess amnesia is an illness.

   Paul realized he was being evaluated regarding his fitness to return to
school.  He decided to cooperate with the lady and apparently she was happy
with his answers.  She then gave him a written test which would determine
his strengths and weaknesses after missing two months of school.  Paul knew
this test might determine whether or not he was held back in the fifth
grade so he wasn't going to fool around.  He'd ace the test.  He wrote his
name on the test, the first time for his new name: Paul Griffin.  Griffin
was different from his old name of Grady but close enough that he knew he
had to be careful or he'd start writing his old name without thinking.

   The test was ridiculously easy with nothing but objective questions:
true-false, fill in the blank, and multiple choices.  It took Paul about 30
minutes of the allotted two hours for the test.  He couldn't write any
faster.  Dr.  Wilson did raise a skeptical eyebrow when Paul turned in his
paper but didn't say anything.  She asked if he was ready to go to class
and then escorted there.

   Paul was seated by the teacher's desk and after the requisite amount of
staring at Paul the amnesia victim, things settled down.  I can do this
thought Paul.  It's sort of like being the new kid in school.

   At recess, Ann, Elizabeth and Carol formed a protective phalanx around
their brother and Paul felt for a while they might attack anyone who walked
too close.  A couple of students were brave enough to introduce themselves.
Paul knew they felt weird doing it because they apparently had known the
real Paul for years.  The eleven-year-old tried to be amiable with them but
knew he just didn't have anything in common with them.

   After school, Paul decided to take a walk around the neighborhood.  The
girls wanted to escort him but the boy wanted to do it alone and promised
he wouldn't go far.  He had to get to know Hoboken, New Jersey since it was
to be his home for who knew how long.  There were no malls in Hoboken, or
shopping centers as they were called when Paul was growing up.  The
business section looked like a ton of mom and pop stores.  The weather was
better than the day before and Paul was feeling pretty good about things.

   As Paul was passing a little awning-covered shop, an elderly lady began
to angrily jabber and gesture at him.  He recognized the language as
Italian but he couldn't understand a word she was saying.  She ended her
tirade by crossing herself.  A little girl about Paul's age was standing
beside the lady and crossed herself also.  She looked very solemn and said,
"My grandmother says someone has given you the evil eye.  She's surprised
you're not already dead." The girl crossed herself once more.

   Paul felt his heart in his throat.  The real Paul's warning came back to
him: Someone was out to kill him.  The young boy quickly walked away and
started running until he got to a street corner.  That was stupid Paul
thought.  I should have tried to talk to her.  Paul always had a healthy
skepticism for the occult but wasn't he already living an episode of the
'Twilight Zone'?
Paul started to retrace his steps to the elderly lady and her
granddaughter when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  A tall middle-aged man
smiled benignly at him and said, "It's good seeing you again, young man. 
Can we talk?" An irrational terror filled Paul's heart.  He staggered away
from the man and into the street.  He heard the screech of tires and a huge

car stopped bare inches from where he stood.

   "Watch where you're going, kid!" the driver shouted.  "Ya wanna get
killed?" Paul didn't answer.  He started running as if a legion of devils
were after him.



   ------

   Chapter 14

   Paul didn't stop running until he reached the front doorsteps of his
home.  He'd never been so frightened.  The boy had almost killed himself
stepping in front of a car.  It was as if the Fates wanted to finish off
the job they started and dispose of Paul Griffin.  Who was the man who
approached him?  He was a complete stranger but then so was everyone in
this virtually new world he now inhabited.  Well, the man knew Paul and he
had a feeling he would be meeting him again.  Why had he seemed so
frightening to Paul?  Was this the man he was warned about in his dreams?

   The eleven-year-old would like to have talked to that little girl.  She
could ask her grandmother what she saw and give him a clue on how to deal
with it.  Well, it was impossible now.  They looked like they were out
shopping so how could even begin searching for them?  Paul finally began to
calm down.  Maybe he could do some rational thinking this evening.  What he
really wanted to do was talk to the real Paul.  He'd sleep alone tonight.
Perhaps the quiet would allow Paul to come to him and give him some
guidance.

   "Hi, everyone," said Paul as walked in the house.  The boy was in
control of himself now.  He hadn't wanted to appear agitated to his family.
"Hi, Dad." He was kind of surprised to see his father sitting at the
kitchen table.  He was told not to expect him until Tuesday.

   "Hi, Paul," his father replied.  "How was your first day back to
school?"

   "It was okay.  This psychologist asked me a bunch of questions and then
gave me a test to take.  I guess they want to know how far behind I am in
my studies.  Then she sent me to class."

   "I hope you did well on the test," said his mother.

   "I think I did okay." Paul would be very surprised if he missed even one
of the questions.

   Paul claimed fatigue after dinner so he went straight up to his room. 
What he really wanted to do was relax his mind so he could be open to any
dreams he might experience during the night.  It felt good to relax like
that and the boy felt some peace for the first time in a while.  Now if he
could just maintain the mood...  He heard a knock on the door.  Debbie
stuck her head in, said, "You've been ignoring me," and then walked in.

   "I'm pretty tired tonight, Debbie," Paul protested.

   "That's fine," she responded.  "We don't have to do anything, just
talk."

   "But I just want to be alone for a while." Debbie didn't get a chance to
answer before there was another knock at the door.

   "What are you guys doing?" said Elizabeth.  She and Ann trooped in and
shut the door.

   "We were just about to have a talk...  alone," Debbie responded
emphasizing the last word.

   "No we weren't," Paul protested.  "I was about to send you away and now
that includes you other two."

   "We won't stay long," Ann pleaded.

   "Okay," Paul sighed.  "What do you guys want to talk about?" The sooner
he talked the faster he'd get rid of them.  The eleven-year-old wasn't
feeling so relaxed any more.  His mind was filling with thoughts of fucking
his sisters but no sooner had he spoken when there was another knock at the
door.  This time it was their mother.

   "What do you think you girls are doing in your brother's room?" she
asked in the sternest voice Paul had ever heard her use.  "You're all
supposed to be getting ready for bed."

   "We were just talking," said Debbie.

   "I'd prefer you girls did your talking with your brother downstairs in
the future."

   "Aw, gee," Ann complained.

   "No more 'aw, gees' or you'll be talking to your father.  Now march
yourselves out of here," Yvonne ordered.  Paul might have been grateful for
his mother's assistance in getting rid of the girls but now he was
irritated with her for interfering.  He'd decide when the girls were
allowed in his room.  It was obvious she was trying to prevent access to
his sisters.  He'd think about how to respond later but it wouldn't hurt to
put on a small display of power right now.

   "You guys better do as Mom says," Paul advised.

   "Fine," said Debbie in a disappointed tone of voice and turned to follow
her sisters out the door.

   "Wait a minute," the boy called.  "Don't I get a good night kiss?" He
smiled as all three girls spun around and lined up to get a kiss from their
brother.  Paul stood up and gave Debbie a lingering kiss that was anything
but brotherly.  Elizabeth and Ann followed with similar kisses.  Their
mother looked on unhappily but didn't protest his affectionate but improper
display with her daughters.  She turned to follow the girls out the door.
"Where's my kiss from you?" Paul heard the girls giggle out in the hall and
saw his mother blush a bright red.

   "Why, Paul?" Yvonne asked and fled the room.  Paul shrugged his
shoulders.  Now it was his turn to feel embarrassed.  Hadn't he promised
himself not to humiliate his mother in front of the others?  He'd done a
good job of accomplishing just the opposite.  His arrogance astonished even
the boy.  Why couldn't he exercise a little self-control?  He briefly
wondered why Carol hadn't come to him too before drifting off into a
troubled slumber.  She'd better not be ignoring me again was his last
thought.  Paul slept the entire night but didn't dream.

   Paul didn't feel at all rested when he woke up early the next morning.
Ironically, he hadn't stayed up for a late-night liaison with anyone.  He
decided it was caused by worry from the events of the day before and his
inability to communicate with the spirit of young Paul.  Then there was the
guilt he was feeling for humiliating his mother.  He didn't want his mother
start to fear or even hate him.  Paul thought about apologizing to Yvonne
but things got hectic and he was out the door heading to school before he
could get a chance to talk with her.

   The second school day started much like the first.  Paul was met at the
school door and escorted to an office where Dr.  Wilson sat at a desk.  "If
I didn't know better I'd say you had the answers to this test," the woman
declared as soon as Paul sat down.  "You did quite well."

   "I'd be happy to take a different test if you want," Paul replied.

   "I don't think that will be necessary," Dr.  Wilson assured him.  "It's
just that these test results are quite superior to what we expected.  We're
actually very pleased.  I just hope you show similar results in your
regular tests."

   "Well, I almost died so I guess I'm being given a second chance," said
Paul.  In ways you can't even fathom the boy thought.  "I figure I'd better
start doing my best from now on."

   "That's an excellent attitude to take, Paul.  I think you'll have a very
successful future as long as you maintain it.  I don't believe we'll have
to meet again.  Do you have any questions before I send you to class?"

   "I guess I am curious about my test score," said Paul with almost a
gloat.

   "I can't give you a number score but the mistakes you made were just
silly ones and nothing to worry about.  I'm sure if you would have taken
your time instead of rushing you might have been perfect.  You should know
your state capital is Trenton, not Newark.  Also, there are 48 states in
the Union, not 50.  I'm sure you won't forget that again."

   "I guess not," said Paul.  I'm safe from being held back in the fifth
grade the boy thought as he walked to his classroom but what do I do now?
The woman wasn't impressed enough to think I should accelerate my
education. Paul would have been depressed with the thought of repeating the
education he'd already experienced as Philip except that in the back of his
mind he knew someone was working real hard to end his life and it was bound
to be sooner than later.

   Paul's sisters gathered around him at recess and again at lunch despite
his assurances that he could take care of himself.  He'd had enough at one
point during lunch and finally excused himself to use the restroom. 
Instead, Paul snuck to the other side of the schoolyard to get a break from
them.  "Hello," said a girl who walked up to him.  Paul gaped at the girl
for a moment before recognizing her from the day before.  She was her
grandmother's translator.

   "Hello," Paul replied nervously.  "I uh I'm sorry I ran away from you
yesterday.  I'm Paul."

   "I'm Gina," said the girl pleasantly.

   "I guess I should have stayed and asked your grandmother some questions
but I guess I got scared." Gina nodded in understanding but didn't reply.
"Do you think I could talk to your grandmother?" Paul thought maybe she
could shed some light on what was happening and how this unknown person
could be stopped.

   Gina shook her head.  "My grandmother can't tell you who or why someone
has cursed you.  She only knows you are in great danger."

   "Oh," Paul replied.  He swallowed hard and thought he was going to cry.
There was nothing to be done.

   "I have something for you," said Gina and reached into her coat pocket.

   "What is it?"

   "It's an amulet." Gina showed him what looked like a beaded necklace
with a small medallion in the middle.  "My grandmother made it especially
for you.  You're to wear it from now on, even in your sleep and when you
take your bath.  It will help protect you from whoever is trying to harm
you." The young girl was shorter than Paul and she had to reach up to place
it around his neck.  It sort of looked like Hippie beads from the '60's to
Paul.

   "Thank you very much, Gina," said Paul, "and please thank your
grandmother for me too." Paul meant every word.  He knew he was probably
just being superstitious but he felt safer from the moment he had it on. 
He'd never take it off.

   Gina looked pleased.  "You'd better wear it underneath your shirt so the
boys don't make fun of you."

   "I'll do that," Paul promised.  He noticed only a crude chain with a
crucifix or cross attached seemed to be acceptable neck jewelry for the
boys.  "What grade are you in, Gina?  I hope I see you around."

   "I'm in the sixth grade with your sister Carol but I'm not supposed to
talk to boys without a chaperone.  My parents say it's not proper." Paul
nodded like he understood but he didn't.  What was the harm in just
talking? The first bell rang signaling the end of the lunch period.  Paul
thanked Gina again and watched her walk away.  She turned around briefly
and said, "I'll pray to the Holy Virgin every day to keep you safe."

   "Where were you, Paul?  We were looking all over for you," Elizabeth
complained when she saw her brother in the hall.

   "I was just walking around.  Sorry I didn't tell you." Paul decided not
to say anything about Gina or the amulet.

   When Paul and the girls got home they all went upstairs to change their
clothes.  The boy rushed down to beat his sisters to any goodies that may
have been baked during the day.  He noticed his mother was on the
telephone. The telephone was placed on a small side table at the bottom of
the stairs.  There was no extension upstairs which seemed an inconvenience
to Paul.  What caught the boy's attention was when he heard his mother say,
"You're not supposed to call here.  If Peter finds out...  he's asleep
right now but he'll be up soon."

   Who in the heck is she talking to?  Paul no longer cared he might miss
out on the goodies.  He was curious about this telephone conversation. 
Yvonne finally noticed his proximity and became even more nervous. 
"Please, Daddy," she begged.  "This is a party line.  Anybody could be
listening.  I'll hang up if you continue." Daddy?  Who is Daddy?  This was
becoming even more interesting.  "Yes, he's here but...  do you promise?"
Yvonne placed her hand on the receiver and said, "Paul...  your grandfather
wants to talk to you...  very briefly, please." She hesitated before
finally handing the receiver to Paul.  Paul waited until Ann and Elizabeth
walked past and into the kitchen.

   "Grandfather?" said Paul into the receiver.  His mother's mysterious
father wanted to talk to him.  He'd been wondering about the man since that
first night in his mother's bed.

   "Paul," said the voice on the other end, "just listen to me and don't
say a word.  I want to see you.  Meet me at the library by the park
tomorrow after school and please keep this a secret from everyone.  And
Paul?  I'm sorry I frightened you yesterday." Paul heard a click and the
line went dead.

   "What did he say?" his mother demanded nervously.

   "He just said hello and said he hoped I was feeling okay," Paul replied.
He was bewildered by the short one-sided conversation and his mother's
attitude.

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yes, ma'am," Paul assured her.  Now he was more curious than ever about
this mysterious grandparent.  The eleven-year-old wouldn't miss meeting his
grandfather for the world.  Yvonne finally seemed satisfied and walked into
the kitchen.

   Meeting his grandfather would probably go a long way toward solving some
of the mysteries surrounding his parents thought Paul.  But then again,
maybe it wouldn't.  The eleven-year-old wouldn't expect his grandfather to
admit he slept with his own daughter.  He wandered into the kitchen where
the girls were having their after-school snack.  "I saved some for you,"
said Elizabeth as he sat down beside her.

   "There was enough for everyone," their mother responded.

   "Not if I'd gotten here first," Paul wisecracked.  The girls thought
that was funny and giggled appreciatively.  "Does anyone need help with
their homework?  I've finished mine."

   "I do," said Elizabeth.

   "Me too," said Ann.

   "You told me you didn't have any homework, dear," said her mother.

   "Well, I would need help if I did have homework."

   Paul noticed his mother avoided eye contact with him unless it was
absolutely necessary.  She must still be really pissed with me the boy
thought.  He still hadn't found an opportunity to apologize to her but he
hoped that would come later in the evening.  He wanted her relaxed enough
so he could ask her about her father.

   The eleven-year-old still hadn't talked to his mother by the time nine
o'clock rolled around and he had to get ready for bed.  None of the girls
had tried to come to his room and Paul wasn't yet ready to disobey his
mother by visiting them in their rooms.  He lay back and started stroking
his eight-inch prick, letting it out through the fly of his pajamas.  The
boy was horny but at least he wasn't thinking about his family members at
the moment.  He was thinking about Gina.  His mother and sisters were
blonde and blue-eyed with a fair complexion.  Gina was just the opposite.
She had dark brown hair with brown eyes and a light olive complexion.  Most
importantly, she was just as pretty.  He could imagine sticking his prick
inside that girl's cunt.  Hmm, perhaps Gina's parents were right about
young girls needing chaperones when they were around boys.

   There was a knock at the door and Paul quickly covered his exposed prick
with a sheet.  His mother entered and said, "Your father had to leave
early. I'd like to talk to you." Paul nodded his head.  This would be a
good time to apologize for embarrassing her in front of the girls.  Still,
Paul would hold his tongue until Yvonne had her say.  He wouldn't try to
defend his behavior.  What happened next was completely unexpected.  Yvonne
burst into tears.  Paul didn't think he could feel lower than he already
did for humiliating his mother but now he felt worse, much worse.

   "Mom, I-."

   "When you didn't come to me last night I realized how much I miss you,
need you, need your body next to mine," Yvonne confessed.  "After that, I
barely slept thinking of how angry you must be for me trying to interfere
with you...  with your desires.  Even though I know it's wrong I don't
think I could bear not being with you...  at least part of the time... 
when you're not with your sisters." The young mother continued sobbing as
she stood before her son's bed.

   Shit!  I guess I wasted a lot of time worrying about an apology the
eleven-year-old boy thought.  "I won't hurt the girls.  I love them as much
as I love you."

   "I know that but...  things can happen...  unintended things." God! 
Yvonne thought.  How can I tell him my own father raped and impregnated me?
How can I tell my own son that I'm also his half sister?

   "Let's discuss it later." Paul knew what his mother was driving at.  She
didn't want her daughters impregnated by their brother.  But Paul also knew
there was nothing he could do about it.  He'd continue sleeping with his
sisters despite the potential, or rather inevitable, consequences.  It was
like he was obsessed.

   Paul pulled back the sheet exposing his eight-inch prick before his
mother's eyes.  The answering gasp and hungry look on Yvonne's face
reassured Paul that he was in control.  "Come lie down beside me, Yvonne."
The young mother didn't hesitate and quickly lay down facing
eleven-year-old son.  Their lips met in a lover's kiss and Yvonne's hands
caressed the prick which had brought her so much sexual pleasure lately. 
"Careful," Paul warned.  He didn't want a hand job.

   "Sorry," said Yvonne with a shy smile.  She allowed Paul to wipe away
her tears with a corner of the bed sheet.

   "I could never be angry with you, Yvonne.  I know you want what's best
for everyone.  Isn't that right?"

   "That's right," said the pretty mother and nodded her head for emphasis.

   "And I'll always consider your concerns and opinions.  Fair enough?"
Yvonne nodded her head in agreement once more but she was smart enough to
realize her concerns and opinions wouldn't count for much if they
conflicted with her son's.

   "Fair enough," Yvonne responded.  What choice did she have?

   "I'll come to you tonight," Paul said and gave the older woman another
kiss.

   "All right." Yvonne thought she was being dismissed but Paul apparently
had more to say.

   "Can you invite Grandma and Grandpa over?  Since I don't remember them
I'd like to meet them."

   "Why do you want to do that?" Paul's mother appeared nervous.  It's what
he expected.

   "I'm just curious."

   "Your grandma died before you were born.  Your father and grandfather
had a falling out, also before you were born.  He's forbidden to set foot
in our home and your father has forbidden the family from visiting him."

   "What happened between them?"

   "I-I don't know.  I mean I'm not sure.  You'll have to ask your father."
Yvonne was clearly being evasive.  Paul didn't mind.  He'd gotten the
information he wanted.

   "You mean I've never met my grandfather?"

   "That's right.  I'm surprised he called.  He probably heard about your
accident." The young mother sighed.  "Can we talk about something else?"

   Interesting.  That certainly didn't jibe with what his grandfather said
when they met on the street the day before.  "Well, I did want to tell you
I want to go to the library tomorrow.  Do I have a library card?"

   "I don't think so.  I believe you'll need my signed permission for a
children's card.  I'll ask Carol to go with you and pick up an
application."

   "Let me do it by myself.  I'll be careful."

   "If you want," said his mother.  She smiled.  "I'll go get ready for
bed."

   "Why wait?" Paul replied.  "Turn around," he ordered.  Yvonne could feel
her face burning with embarrassment and not a little excitement.  There was
no need for foreplay.  The woman lubricated freely whenever she was even
near her son now.  Once free of her undergarments Paul plunged his massive
prick inside the woman's belly.  "Gosh!  I really love taking you like
this," Paul whispered in Yvonne's ear.  "We're like a couple of dogs on the
street and you're my bitch."

   "Yes!  God forgive me, I'm your bitch," the excited woman whispered
back.

   Paul went straight to his classroom the next morning and the day was
pretty much routine.  He began to learn more about New Jersey history than
he ever wanted to know.  Other than that things were pretty boring.  He
spent most of his time checking out which fifth grade girls he'd like to
fuck if given a chance.  All the girls were dressed modestly and all wore
dresses.  They sure were cute.  He finally had to stop doing that because
his boner refused to go down and he had to hide the obvious bulge behind a
book or paper when he had to stand up.  Paul did see Gina with a crowd of
girls during the day but he didn't try to talk to her.

   After Paul got home from school and had a snack he walked to the
library. The man he met in the street two days before was standing on the
steps waiting for him.  He smiled when he saw the boy approach and held out
his hand in greeting.  "We've met before your accident, Paul but I guess
you don't remember that," said the middle-aged man.  "My name is Paul also.
You were named after me.  I'm your grandfather."

   "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," said Paul.  His initial impression
was good as he shook the man's hand.

   "Shall we find a place to talk?  I imagine you have a lot of questions."

   "Yes sir," the eleven-year-old replied and allowed himself to be led to
a nearby park bench.  It looks like you've been taking care of yourself the
older man thought as he sat down with the boy.  That's good because we'll
soon be trading bodies and you're unlikely to survive the ordeal, my son.



   ------

   Chapter 15



   Dear Reader: This chapter provides some background information on our
villain.  There is little or no sex but it is necessary to the plot.



   Paul Caldwell ducked into the alley to have himself a cigarette.  He was
dying for a smoke but the city was having a goddamn blackout drill.  The
flare of a struck match or the glowing ember of an inhaled butt, if seen,
could cause legions of volunteer drill wardens to descend on his head. 
They were almost as bad as the Nazis the United States was at war against.
Well, Paul would enjoy this one.  There was war rationing on and the man
had used his last coupon for this pack.  This was also his last cigarette.
There wouldn't be another allocation of coupons issued for three more days.
His last black market contact had been drafted into the army.  If not for
his nicotine fit, he would have continued home from his job at the docks
and missed the excitement.

   Three men had another man cornered in the darkened alley.  No words were
being exchanged but Paul could tell a deadly duel was in progress. 
Thrusts, feints and the occasional clink of steel on steel indicated a
fight with knives or other edged weapons.  Paul crouched down and kept
quiet.  He didn't want to get involved and he didn't want to miss
witnessing the action either.  Paul wasn't a coward.  He'd started or
joined lots of fights in his time but he also could tell it wasn't his
affair.  Even in the dark he could tell they were foreigners having their
own private spat and deciding to settle their dispute with a fight to the
death.  If they all slashed each other's throats Paul would be all the
happier.  America would do fine with a lot fewer foreigners in the country.
It would also make for a great story at the bar and the hiring hall.

   The lone defender was acquitting his self quite well.  One of his
assailants was already down and barely moving.  The second assailant made
the mistake of tripping over the body of his late comrade and then his life
was over too.  Paul would have had second thoughts about sticking around if
he had been the third assailant but that guy made no move to escape.  In
fact, he almost desperately lunged at his prey.  There was a brief struggle
and then the third assailant also toppled over.  The defender could
obviously take care of his self.  I wouldn't want to meet that guy in a
dark alley.  Paul chuckled quietly when he realized he just had.  Well, he
hadn't really met him but the dock worker had seen the foreign fucker in
action.  Impressive.

   Paul waited while the killer checked the other bodies.  The first man to
go down wasn't moving any longer; none of the others were either.  The dock
worker was just about to withdraw when he saw the winning fighter fall
against a brick wall and collapse.  He must have been injured in the fight
after all thought Paul.  He decided to wait a little longer.  When nothing
happened for a few minutes Paul approached the fighter cautiously.  He
didn't want to become another victim.  "What were they after?" said Paul
when he'd come close enough to talk to the man but still far enough away to
make a run for it.  Did the guy even know English?  He appeared to be
Asiatic but not a Jap or a Chink; that much Paul could tell.

   The man seemed to see Paul for the first time but didn't appear alarmed.
He was bleeding profusely and probably dying.  "This," the man said simply
and pointed at a cylindrical case lying on the ground.  It was
approximately two feet long and had a sling along its length for wearing
over the shoulder like a rifle.

   "What is it?" was Paul's next question.  The last thought on Paul's mind
was to aid the man or run for help.

   The man smiled and said, "It is the secret of eternal life." He found
his statement quite amusing and burst into laughter.  The laughter stopped
with a fit of coughing.  Blood welled out the man's mouth and then life
fled his body.

   "Did he say eternal life?" Paul asked aloud even though there was no one
alive to hear him.  He jumped when he heard a distant siren.  Had someone
else seen the commotion and called the cops?  Paul breathed a sigh of
relief when he figured out the siren just signaled the end of the blackout
drill.  "Bullshit," Paul said finally.  It was time to move quickly.  He
quickly searched the bodies and stripped them of their possessions.  "Hell,
yes!" Paul nearly shouted.  All four of them were carrying packs of
cigarettes.  They were foreign brands but tobacco was tobacco.  He was
going to have a nicotine feast.  The last thing he took, of course, was the
cause of four men's deaths, the leather canister.  Paul didn't believe that
bit about eternal life but the canister must contain something valuable if
four men were willing to die for it.  It could probably be sold for a nice
piece of change.

   Paul hurried home to his rent-controlled cold-water apartment laden with
his booty.  He lived there alone and yet it was barely adequate.  He hadn't
always lived there alone.  His daughter had moved out and gotten married
after getting knocked up.  His wife died not long after that.  The truth
was she committed suicide although that was hushed up and called an
accident so she could be buried in sacred ground.  Stupid bitches!  Well,
he'd visited his daughter the year before and apparently left behind a
little gift with her.  Heh heh!

   The weapons the dead men used were more like short swords rather than
knives and the approximate length of a machete.  Their passports showed
they were all British subjects.  Their country of origin was India.  There
was a little cash but not much else.  The only thing left to examine was
the canister.  It contained a long scroll wrapped in waterproof cloth.  It
appeared very old.  It was immediately obvious to Paul if this scroll
contained the secret to eternal life it was going to remain a secret from
him.  It was written in a foreign language and in an alphabet filled with
long curvy lines.  The man took a swig of cheap whiskey and decided to turn
in.  He'd consider his options later.

   Paul saw the police cars and the crowd of people at the mouth of the
alley from a distance.  It was the next morning and the bodies had been
found.  Should he or shouldn't he act curious?  Deciding that not acting
curious would be unnatural he loitered at the edge of the crowd for a
minute before he turned to another bystander.  "What happened?" he asked
idly.

   "Murder," was the answer.  "Four or five dead men."

   Paul craned his neck trying to see over the crowd.  "Anyone from the
neighborhood?"

   The man shook his head.  "They're saying German spies or a mob
execution."

   Paul nodded his head and continued on his way.  He'd tell anyone who
asked there were German spies found murdered in an alley.  He would be
playing his part as an uninformed rumor monger which was more than 99% of
the population.  By the time he passed back this way in the evening there'd
be three dozen other rumors and just as many speculations making the
rounds.

   The dock worker was surprised to hear just one story making the rounds
on his return that evening.  There were some men asking questions about the
murders and they weren't the cops.  They were foreign types.  They were
invariably polite but seemed menacing nevertheless.  Paul even saw a couple
of the men.  They were dressed just like their late compatriots from the
night before.

   Paul Caldwell began to feel out of his depth.  There were more of these
men and they were more than likely just as willing to kill for what Paul
possessed as those other men.  Maybe he should just turn it in to the
police and say he found it in the street.  Still, if it was that valuable
maybe those men would offer a reward for it to be turned over to them.  He
hadn't yet heard about any money being offered.

   Also, there was that story about eternal life.  What if there was
something to it?  Of course, Paul couldn't read the damn thing but he could
have it translated.  The man knew that possibility presented its own
problems.  He'd seen enough crime films to realize the moment he started
asking questions about translating an ancient scroll, there'd be people
asking questions about him.  Paul could be pretty handy when he had to be
and constructed a shadow box from scraps he found lying around.  Not really
having a plan in mind he then began to painstakingly copy the scroll curvy
line by curvy line.  It took him almost two weeks.

   After he was finished Paul disassembled the shadow box and buried every
bit of evidence he'd brought with him that night except for the original
scroll.  Coincidentally, the rumors turned to talks of money for
information.  That suited Paul just fine.  He sought out one of the foreign
goons and casually started a conversation with him.  "What the hell are you
guys looking for?" he asked the man.  "The guys who killed your friends are
probably long gone by now."

   "That is a possibility," the man replied, "but we are also looking for a
package that may have been dropped...  by our friends.  It was stolen from
my employer and he is most anxious to have it back.  We have reason to
believe the killer or killers don't have it so it might still be around
here." Yeah, thought Paul.  The killer doesn't have it because he's dead
too.  You know that.

   "Have you checked the lost and found?" Paul was trying to be sarcastic.

   "We check every day," the man responded with a grim smile.  He was not
to be baited.  He was a cool customer.  The man continued talking but not
really talking to Paul.  "It is an ancient scroll written in the language
of my people.  It's of no particular monetary value but it is part of our
heritage."

   "A scroll, huh?" Well, here goes nothing thought Paul.  "I found
something like that a couple of weeks ago: a roll of old parchment with a
bunch of squiggly lines?"

   "Indeed, yes.  You have it?" Paul noted with satisfaction that he'd
finally gotten a rise out of the goon.  Actually he looked thunderstruck.

   "I don't have it on me but I know where it is."

   "Show me," the man ordered.  Paul started to feel apprehensive but he
did have an ace up his sleeve: the neighbors.  They were all pretty sick of
these foreigners hanging around and were looking for an excuse to beat them
up.  If Paul yelled for help he could have 30 or 40 men within moments
armed with sticks and bats to beat the shit out of them.

   "I'd rather show it to your employer...  if there's a reward for it."
The man nodded, signaled a colleague and talked to him in a foreign
language.

   "My employer will be called.  He is a very busy man.  I hope your
information is worthwhile.  I will stay with you and wait for his arrival."

   Paul thought as much.  "I'm a very busy man too.  I hope your employer
doesn't waste my time either."

   About 30 minutes later a big black car pulled up to the curb.  It wasn't
any limousine but Paul was impressed anyway.  The man who stayed with Paul
hurried forward and opened the rear door for the passenger, a huge,
well-dressed man with a heavy beard and a turban.  The two men spoke
briefly in their native language and then approached Paul.  "This is my
employer, Mr.  Singh," the man said and then stepped away.

   "Paul Caldwell," said Paul.  He held out his hand to greet the other man
but Mr.  Singh didn't reciprocate.  He merely inclined his head slightly.

   "I understand you may have located some lost property of mine, Mr. 
Caldwell," said Mr.  Singh.

   "I may have," Paul responded, "and I understand you're offering a nice
little reward for its return."

   "If you have what I'm looking for I shall be very generous.  Now shall
we not beat around the bush, as you Americans like to say, and allow me to
examine what you have to offer?"

   "It's up in my room.  You can come with me if you want or wait here
while I get it."

   "I should prefer to accompany you, Mr.  Caldwell, so that our business
may be conducted in private."

   "Our business ain't so private, Mr.  Singh.  There's a thousand pair of
eyes on us right now.  But you can come up if you want...  alone." Paul
hoped Mr.  Singh got the message that there were plenty of witnesses of him
meeting with Paul and there might be questions asked is he was found with
his throat slit.

   Mr.  Singh nodded in understanding and said, "Please lead the way." Paul
began to get nervous as he led Mr.  Singh up to his apartment.  What was to
prevent the guy from just taking the scroll and stiffing Paul?  The man had
plenty of muscle to back him up.  His only consolation was that he had a
backup copy of the scroll.  He might be able to sell it to someone else.

   Paul felt kind of embarrassed as led his guest inside his dingy
apartment.  He never made an effort to keep it clean.  That was his wife's
job...  but he didn't have a wife any more.  Mr.  Singh made no comment but
he could see the man's eyes light up with interest when Paul brought him
the scroll.  "It's just as I found it," said Paul, "except I did try to
read it some.  The guy couldn't write English worth a damn," he added in an
effort to be humorous.  It was more an effort to cover up his nerves.

   "I understand, Mr.  Caldwell," Mr.  Singh.  "I just want to make sure it
has remained undamaged while it was out of my possession."

   "Then that's it."

   "It is indeed, Mr.  Caldwell." Mr.  Singh reached into a jacket pocket
and brought out a cigarette case.  "Would you care for a cigarette, Mr. 
Caldwell?  It's a much better blend of tobacco than my employees can afford
to smoke.  Odd, isn't it?  I can detect the odor of their unique brand of
cigarettes in this very room."

   "I...  uh." Paul felt himself beginning to panic.

   "The truth please, Mr.  Caldwell," Mr.  Singh prompted.

   "I didn't kill them," Paul blurted.

   "I believe you, Mr.  Caldwell.  Just tell me the rest." Paul nodded and
told the story as it happened.  He only part he left out was the one guy's
comment about eternal life.

   Mr.  Singh nodded and brought out a thick envelope.  "This envelope
contains ten thousand of your country's dollars.  I trust that will be
sufficient?"

   Paul gulped and said, "I won't kid you, Mr.  Singh.  It's about ten
times what I thought was sufficient."

   "I thought so.  Besides the reward for returning my property, I want to
ensure your silence about what you saw.  As far as the police are concerned
all four of the men were victims of unknown individuals and they are losing
interest already.  I'll be leaving your country soon and I don't wish to be
delayed by police asking more questions."

   "I understand, Mr.  Singh."

   "Very good, Mr.  Caldwell.  Just remember, accidents can be arranged
even in front of the eyes of a thousand witnesses."

   That was the last Paul saw of Mr.  Singh.  He told everyone the
foreigner paid him a hundred dollars and then spent every dime of the
hundred dollars buying everyone at the bar drinks.  Paul put the balance in
a safe deposit box at the local bank.  He didn't want to attract the
attention of neighbors or the Internal Revenue Service by living an
improved lifestyle.  Besides, the man now had a goal in mind.

   Ten thousand dollars, to Paul's mind, was just too much to pay for an
old piece of parchment of "no particular monetary value." Maybe there was
some truth to that scroll containing the secret to eternal life.  The thing
to do was to get his copy of the scroll translated without attracting
attention.  Paul waited a couple of months until he felt sure Mr.  Singh
wasn't having him watched.  Getting the scroll translated was surprisingly
easy to do.  The New York metropolitan area was a center of scholarship and
there were countless hungry ancient language scholars who were glad to do
some translating for a little cash.  Paul was amazed at these people.  They
spent all these years studying with very little money to show for it.  What
the hell good was their education?

   Paul divided up the scroll into small segments and mixed them up so the
translators wouldn't be able to catch on to what they were translating.  If
one of them got to asking too many questions he just dumped them and hired
another.  They were a dime a dozen.

   One clue in the manuscript led Paul to the legend of a wizard who had
the secret of eternal life.  The legend said the wizard could swap his body
with that of a younger person when his old body was about worn out.  The
shock of the swap usually killed his old body along with the spirit forced
into it.  The wizard was said to have lived over 3,000 years.  His life
would have continued but for an unfortunate accident which killed the
wizard instantly.

   Once Paul had the scroll completely translated he reassembled the pieces
and found he had a spell book on his hands.  The most interesting spell was
the one for soul transference.  No wonder that Indian guy was hot to get
the scroll back.  How long had the scroll been in Mr.  Singh's possession?
Was he also an ancient?  Paul began to fantasize being a youthful 300 years
old.

   Paul Caldwell tried chanting a number of the minor spells but nothing
worked.  After more study and interviewing scholars, he finally decided
that the spells needed to be chanted in the native language.  Paul knew he
had neither the patience nor the talent to learn a foreign language so he
went back and had the manuscript phonetically spelled out then hired a
tutor to coach him on his pronunciation.

   After two years Paul Caldwell knew the spells by heart with a decent
pronunciation in the native language.  Still, not one of the spells worked
for him.  From the time Paul witnessed the killings and acquired the scroll
the dock worker had studied and learned quite a bit about magic, the art of
spells and charms.  In fact, he could almost call himself a scholar on the
subject.  Paul laughed aloud as he lay back on his bed and sipped at a
bottle of whiskey.  His knowledge was just as useless as those scholars
he'd used to translate the scroll.  Well, he still had most of the cash Mr.
Singh had given him.  That counted for something.

   The dock worker absentmindedly began to chant one of the spells from his
memory.  He wasn't even sure which one it was.  He'd barely completed the
spell when there was a knock on the door.  The man jumped slightly when the
door swung open.  He must have forgotten to lock it.  Paul grabbed a bat he
kept beside his bed and got ready to bash the intruder's head.  He was very
surprised when the intruder turned out to be a neighbor lady from
downstairs.  He realized he had been thinking about her in the last few
minutes.  She wasn't much younger than Paul's 40 years but she was still
very pretty.  Her husband was overseas.  He always wanted to get in her
pants but she made it very plain she wasn't interested in the middle-aged
dock worker.  "What can I do for you, Gertrude?" he said in a cordial
manner.

   The woman didn't answer.  In fact, she appeared to be in a trance.  She
calmly sat down on the bed beside Paul and reached for the fly of his union
suit.  "Holy shit!" Paul gasped as the neighbor brought out his rapidly
inflating prick and began to suck on it.  What the hell was going on?  It
took Paul a minute to realize he'd recited one of the sex spells contained
in the scroll.  And it had worked!  But what had he done different to make
it work?  Well, Paul wasn't going to worry about that now.  He was getting
his cock sucked by the pretty neighbor.  Ever since his wife died, almost
all the sex Paul had was purchased from local hookers.  The most irritating
thing about it was their charging him extra because of his eleven inch
prick.  Now Paul wouldn't ever have to pay for sex again...  if he could
figure out what he'd done right.

   Gertrude continued to suck Paul's cock until he spurted a huge load down
the woman's throat.  She then got up and left the same way she arrived and
without uttering a single word.  Paul could only speculate that it was his
state of mind which made the spell work.  He'd been completely relaxed and
recited the spell without effort.  Nothing else was different.  Heh!  Paul
wondered if Gertrude would remember what she did.  When Paul arose the next
morning and greeted Gertrude on the front stoop she was just as unfriendly
as ever.  Paul just laughed.  He looked forward to seeing her again that
evening.

   Paul Caldwell renewed his studies with greater determination.  He'd
succeeded in using one of the simplest spells contained in the scroll.  The
soul transference spell was the most complex.  Paul wanted to master that
very spell.  He knew he'd be using it one day.  He'd make certain to take
the place of a rich young stud with a cock the size of Paul's.  A couple of
hundred years from now Paul imagined himself running into Mr.  Singh again
and saying, "Hey!  Remember me from 1942?"



   ------

   Chapter 16: Mysteries Explained

   "Oh, well," said Paul Caldwell in a tone of resignation.  He'd just
finished some additional research on the soul exchange spell.  It revealed
that the wizard had to switch souls with blood relatives for the first 300
years or so.  It was a complicated spell but very little could go wrong if
a son or nephew was the victim.  Later on, the wizard got so good in
casting this spell he didn't even need a blood relation.

   Paul's only blood relations were his daughter and her children.  The
thought of his soul entering the body of a female made the man shudder even
if it wasn't Yvonne's.  The only way Paul Caldwell was going to enter a
cunt was through her cunt...  or her mouth and he was going to be using his
prick to do it.  Four out of the five grandchildren were girls.  He'd never
met his grandson, or son rather, but he didn't want to switch with a five
year old.  And after all, young Paul was his son no matter his age.  He
didn't think he could be as cold-blooded as the old wizard.

   The middle-aged man's luck had changed when he stumbled onto the spell
book.  Paul no longer had to chase cunt or pay for it for that matter. 
They came to him and spread their legs without even realizing what they
were doing.  That was okay with Paul.  He wasn't a romantic at heart.  His
best remembered fucks were with society dames, bitches who otherwise would
have seen him as dirt if they had noticed him at all.

   Another spell had given Paul a slight advantage in gambling.  Without
attracting any attention he managed to add nicely to the stake Mr.  Singh
had given him.  When Paul got laid off from his dock job he realized he
didn't ever have to work again.  That was sweet.  Paul still spent a lot of
time studying the spell book.  One never knew what might be learned.

   In fact, Paul was now familiar with a spell that could change another
person's outlook on life.  He originally thought the spell was pretty
useless since it didn't cause instant changes but worked very gradually,
even taking years.  Paul then remembered the old saying; revenge is a dish
best served cold.  He was still pissed about Peter running off with Yvonne
and marrying her.  That had deprived him of a very nice bed warmer.  Adding
to that, Peter had threatened to kill his father in law after Yvonne had
given birth to her father's bastard.  Paul swore revenge on his son in law
at the time and now the middle-aged man had found the means to exact his
revenge.  Peter would eventually realize he was losing interest in fucking
his wife.  He might even be distressed to realize he was inexorably
attracted to persons of his own sex.

   There would be nothing Peter could do to stop this change in preference
short of death.  Paul laughed out loud at the image of Peter being
corn-holed in some dark alley in New York where it was said the queers
liked to hang out.  The laughter elicited some disapproving glares from
other patrons in the reading room of the New York Public Library but Paul
didn't care.  He set about immediately in preparations to cast the spell.
It might take a year or so to find out if the spell was working but Paul
figured nothing ventured, nothing gained.  He had time and patience on his
side.

   It took five years but Paul was able to confirm his son in law was a
full-fledged queer.  The spell had worked.  He even had photographic
evidence.  Normally a success like that would have been cause for
celebration but Paul had other things to think about.  Paul Caldwell had
been diagnosed with a heart condition which would very likely kill him
within a very few years.  "Shit!  Just as I start to enjoy life something
comes along to fuck it up," Paul mused aloud as he left the physician's
office.

   Paul didn't have a health spell.  The soul exchange spell was supposed
to take care of that problem.  If your old body started to wear out, you
just replaced it with a younger and healthier body, right?  What was Paul
going to do now?  He considered the possibility of contacting Mr.  Singh
but he didn't know where to start his search for the man.  He made some
initial inquiries but was unsuccessful.  He couldn't believe the large
number of people with the last name of Singh there were in the world,
especially in India.  Paul didn't believe Mr.  Singh would bother to help
him even if he could.  In fact, he most likely would be pissed about Paul
stealing his spells.

   It didn't take too long for Paul Caldwell to start rationalizing the
necessity of taking over the body of Paul Griffin, his son.  Hell, he
didn't need any rationalization.  It was his sperm that created the little
bastard.  He should be able to do what he willed with the little boy.  Paul
was glad he was never given the opportunity to bond with the boy.  That
would have made things all the more difficult.  Hell, it was more likely
the Fates created this opportunity for him.  Go fuck that daughter of yours
bareback and give her your seed to grow in her belly.  You'll have need of
the life you create.

   It wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be to follow the young
Paul and keep track of his usual haunts.  The best place to catch him alone
was at a nearby drug store that sold comic books.  His sisters had no
interest in comic books and his parents didn't patronize that particular
store.  Occasionally young Paul would come in with a friend or two but
mostly he came in alone.  This was the place Paul chose to introduce
himself to his bastard son.

   Paul Caldwell stationed himself at the soda fountain near where the
comic books were displayed and waited for his quarry.  "Hey, kid!" Paul
said to the boy when he finally arrived.  "You're Paul Griffin, aren't
you?"

   "Yeah," the boy responded.  "Who're you?" The boy was unafraid, only
curious.  Paul Caldwell liked that.

   "Why, I'm your grandfather." Paul Caldwell knew he was taking a chance
revealing his self so quickly to the boy but the longer he stayed in the
neighborhood the greater risk he took in running into Yvonne or even Peter.

   "You are?" The boy was suddenly suspicious.  "Why haven't I met you
before?"

   "Because I haven't gotten along with your folks since before you were
born, that's why," Paul Caldwell replied.  He brought out a snapshot and
handed it to young Paul.  "That's a picture of your mom and dad.  Your dad
is holding your sister Debbie and your mom is holding Carol.  They were
babies then." He handed another snapshot to Paul Griffin.  "That's a
picture of your mom and me together when we still got along.  She's a lot
younger here but I bet you can still recognize her."

   The boy nodded his head and said, "Do you want to see my sisters?  I'll
bring them over here."

   "Nah, don't do that," said Paul.  "You know how girls can't keep their
traps shut.  Let's just keep this a secret between you and me for now,
okay?" He pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to the boy.  "I see you
like comic books.  Here, buy ten of 'em."

   "Thanks, mister!" Paul Griffin said excitedly.  "I mean, Grandpa."

   "You're welcome," his father/grandfather replied.  "Just keep your mouth
shut about meeting me, okay?  Come back tomorrow at this same time and
maybe you'll be able to buy ten more comic books." Young Paul nodded
excitedly and started grabbing comic books from the rack.  He seemed to
know exactly which ones he wanted.

   Young Paul was back the next day at the same time.  He was naturally
curious about his grandfather but it didn't hurt that the boy was getting
free comic books whenever he showed up and talked for a few minutes.  Paul
Caldwell relied on the boy's greed to keep him coming back.  He kept that
up seven straight days, not counting the weekend, and then disappeared for
two days.  He was pleased to see young Paul appear vastly relieved when
they met again at the drug store soda fountain.  "What happened, Grandpa? I
was worried about you."

   "Well, I wasn't feeling very well and there wasn't any way to send you a
message.  I don't have a phone."

   "Gosh, Grandpa, maybe I could come visit you."

   "Well, you could but it's too far to walk and I don't want you to waste
your money on carfare."

   "I could ride my bike," the lad offered.

   "You could do that," the man mused and then smiled.  "You know, you're
pretty smart."

   "Thanks," the eleven-year-old said happily.  "I just wish you could come
to our house on Christmas Day.  My parents and you should work things out.
It's the season for forgiveness, you know."

   "Hmm...  well maybe but...  I'll have to think about it." A meeting was
arranged.  Paul Caldwell picked a place that young Paul could get to easily
on his bicycle but far enough to be out of the neighborhood where someone
might know him.  He picked a seedy hotel that rented rooms by the week.  It
suited his needs.  The boy had no second thoughts about entering the hotel
room.  "Sit down, Paul," said his 'grandfather, ' "and relax."

   "Thanks, Grandpa," Paul replied.  He looked around the dingy room
curiously but without judgment.

   "I'd like to read a poem to you, son," Paul Caldwell replied.  "You
won't understand it because it's in a foreign language.  But don't worry
about it.  When I finish the poem you'll understand it completely."

   "You mean you'll translate it for me, Grandpa?"

   "That's right." Paul Caldwell, self taught wizard, was about to get down
to business.  The middle aged man chuckled to himself.  It was too easy. 
The boy was so trusting.  Paul didn't wonder why he didn't have any qualms
about killing his own son in such a cold-blooded manner.  The hard part was
getting the words to the spell exactly right.  Well, he'd practiced it
often enough.  Paul knew the words by rote.  He began to cast the spell.

   Things went wrong about halfway through the spell.  Young Paul must have
had a premonition about what the man was doing because he got a scared look
on his face and bolted for the door.  "No, Paul!" his father shouted.  He
tried to grab for the youngster but it was too late.  Paul Griffin was as
quick as lightning.  The boy was halfway down the hall before the man could
begin to chase him.  Goddammit!  Now the spell was ruined.  It had to be
cast with no interruptions.  Paul had thought about tying up the kid before
casting the spell but that would mean he would be the one tied up if the
spell worked.  If the old body somehow survived he wouldn't be able to
defend himself.  Even if the spell worked perfectly Paul would then have to
work himself free.  It was a puzzle he should have worked out before.

   When Paul got to the street he could see young Paul peddling his bicycle
down the avenue.  He wasn't peddling that fast but he kept looking back
toward the man who said he was his grandfather.  The boy wasn't looking
where he was going and it looked like the driver of the car that had just
turned wasn't looking where he was going either.  The collision was
inevitable.  A crowd was already gathering around the boy and his crumpled
bike.  Paul Caldwell once again began to curse his rotten luck.

   Paul Griffin lay in a coma through Christmas.  No one was sure whether
he would live or die.  There were no broken bones or internal injuries but
the boy had suffered a head trauma.  Were there brain injuries?  The
doctors wouldn't be able to say until Paul came out of his coma...  if he
came out of his coma.

   With the family constantly hovering around it was hard for Paul Caldwell
to get near the patient.  He eventually bribed a member of the housekeeping
staff to keep him informed.  It was with great relief that Paul learned his
son was out of the coma and was going to live.  The boy still mostly slept.
Once doctors decided young Paul was out of danger the family started
spending less time with him.  That was good for Paul Caldwell.  The spell
caster still needed a new body.

   When the kid finally wakes up and starts talking about Grandpa, things
will get very hot for me thought Paul.  He'd either have to try the soul
exchange spell again or get the hell out of town and not come back.  Cuba
had its attractions.  Havana was famous for its wide open casinos, warm
weather and extraordinarily beautiful women.  Also, the Yankee dollar went
a long way.  With the money he had on hand and his 'luck' spell in the
casinos Paul could live like a king indefinitely...  if he lived.  The
heart condition made it unlikely he'd see 1956.  The decision was made. 
He'd find a way to get to young Paul's bedside and cast the complete spell.
With the kid asleep he wouldn't be able to run away.  Paul would have to
take the chance the boy hadn't suffered brain damage.

   It was easy enough to slip the colored woman from housekeeping another
bribe.  He wanted her to sneak him up a back way to see the patient.  It
was New Year's Eve.  The staff was gathered around the nursing station
talking about the parties they were going to once their shift was over or
bemoaning the parties they'd miss because they had to work through the
night.  The patients in the children's ward had been medicated.  They were
fast asleep.  It was a quiet night.

   Paul Caldwell stood beside his son's bed and began to quietly chant the
spell.  Nothing could go wrong now.  The souls would exchange bodies, his
old body would die and he'd wake up in the body of a healthy
eleven-year-old.  "Who are you?  What are you doing here?" a voice behind
him demanded.  Paul jumped but tried to keep calm.  He only had to spit out
the last few words of the spell and he would be finished.  "I'm calling
security," said the voice again.  At last!  The spell was complete.  He was
uncertain how long it would take.  The man turned around and addressed the
nurse.

   "This boy is my grandson.  I was giving him a New Year's Eve blessing,"
said Paul.

   "Visiting hours are over.  This is not the time for blessings.  Please
leave immediately." Paul nodded and looked down at his son.  He had a
feeling something had happened but not what he expected.  Either that or
the spell didn't work.  What had gone wrong?  He must have slurred the last
words of the spell when the nurse walked in on him.  Goddamned bitch! 
Maybe it was time to take a holiday to Havana after all.  Who knows?  It
might turn into a longer stay.  Paul Caldwell couldn't know the spell did
indeed work but not as he'd hoped.  He was right about the last words of
the spell being slurred.  Paul Griffin's soul was exchanged with a dying
50-year-old man named Philip Grady.  Philip Grady, with the soul of Paul
Griffin, never regained consciousness and died three hours later but 50
years in the future.

   Paul remained in Havana until he received a letter from a friend telling
him his grandson was out of the hospital but suffering from amnesia.  He
couldn't recall any of his past.  Perhaps the Fates were giving him a
second chance to do things right.  Paul Caldwell immediately returned to
New Jersey and contacted his daughter's brother/son.  There wouldn't be any
more fuckups.

   At least, that's what he hoped.  For all intents and purposes there
should have been nothing different about this boy but he was different.  He
seemed more mature but there was something else.  Paul Caldwell couldn't
quite put his finger on it.  He didn't want to scare away the kid again so
he studied his quarry carefully.  In his years of studying magic he had
picked up some skill in detecting auras.  "Goddammit!" he growled.  He knew
what it was now.  Someone had placed a protective spell around the boy. 
Until he knew what type of spell it was and how to nullify it, the wizard
wouldn't be able to work his own spell.

   "What's wrong, Grandpa?"

   "What?  Oh, nothing.  I have a bunion on my toe and it hurts.  Say, you
wouldn't have run into a guy who calls himself Mr.  Singh, have you?"

   "I don't think so.  What does he look like?"

   "He's an East Indian with a beard and a turban but dresses well."

   "I haven't met anyone like that.  Should I tell you if I do?"

   "Not only should you tell me but I want you to stay away from him too.
He's a real bad egg.  Also, tell me about anyone who you might know deals
in magic."

   Paul immediately thought of Gina's grandmother but decided to keep his
mouth shut.  That had nothing to do with his grandfather.  "Okay," he said.
"Grandpa?  Can I ask you something about my mom and dad?  They seem
unhappy. Has my mom told you anything?"

   The man chuckled under his breath.  "Well, she has told me something but
I don't think I'd want to tell you anything she told me in confidence. 
Besides, I don't think you're old enough to understand such things."

   "I'd like to help them if I can," Paul replied.  The eleven-year-old
knew he was lying.  He didn't want anything to come between him and his
mother but he had to know what the big secret was his parents were hiding.

   Paul Caldwell considered whether it would help or hurt in accomplishing
his goal.  "You might be upset with me for telling you something that might
make you think less of your father." He was enjoying teasing the boy a bit.

   "As long as you're telling the truth I don't see how I could be mad at
you."

   "Well, it's what your mother told me.  You'll have to decide whether or
not it's the truth for yourself." He slowly shook his head as if it was the
hardest thing in the world to reveal.  "The fact is your father no longer
desires your mother."

   "What do you mean?"

   The middle-aged man leaned close to the boy and whispered, "Have you
ever heard of words like homo, faggot, or queer?" When he saw Paul's face
turn red he said, "I can tell you have heard those words." He laid a
sympathetic hand on the young boy's shoulder.  "Don't be too hard on your
father.  It's a well known fact this type of thing is a sickness. 
Psychiatrists call it a mental illness.  Your mother is worried sick about
him and is trying to get him to go see a doctor."

   Paul was stunned.  He didn't want to believe it but yet it all made
sense.  His father would have to be crazy to reject a woman as beautiful
and charming as Yvonne Griffin.  Same sex preference was no longer viewed
as an illness by mental health professionals in the latter part of the 20th
century and it was certainly politically incorrect to have a contrary
opinion.  Philip Grady would certainly have not expressed a contrary view.
He liked his job too much.  But deep down...  unsaid...  he felt the gay
lifestyle was wrong and the adherents crazy.  He'd heard of married men
"coming out of the closet" but...  this was Yvonne.  "Uh, thanks for
telling me, Grandpa."

   "I can tell I've upset you, boy, and I'm very sorry." He handed the boy
a dollar bill.  "Go buy yourself some more comic books."

   "Thank you," said the eleven-year-old.  "You don't have to do this for
me, you know."

   "It's the only thing that brings me pleasure these days...  talking with
you.  You must have quite a comic book collection by now."

   "Yeah," said Paul.  He wasn't sure about that.  He wondered where the
comic books were kept.  "Is this what we did before my accident...  talk?"

   "That's about it," Grandpa replied.

   "What the hell is going on here!" said an angry voice.  "Paul!  Get away
from that bastard right now!" Peter Griffin grabbed the boy and pulled him
away from the bench.

   "Dad!  We weren't--"

   "Do as I say!  Go home right now!" Paul looked from father to
grandfather.  He wanted to reason with his father but he looked too angry.
He gave his grandfather an anxious look, turned and ran for home.  Peter
Griffin watched Paul disappear from view and then turned on his father in
law.  "I told you never to come around me and my family."

   "I was only talking to the boy...  my son." The fist seemed to come out
of nowhere and caught Paul Caldwell square on the jaw.  The middle-aged man
sprawled in the winter mud.  Paul knew a defensive spell but it wouldn't
come to him.  He was drawing a blank.  His son in law really might try to
kill him.  "Please don't hurt me," the man begged.  "I didn't mean any
harm. I just wanted to meet him once.  I...  I'm dying.  You can ask my
doctor.  It's true.  I'll be dead in a couple of years."

   "That's not soon enough for me," Peter replied.  God, how he longed to
kick the shit out of Paul Caldwell.  Now was his chance.

   "What's going on here?" demanded a member of Hoboken's finest.  "Oh
hello, Pete."

   "Hi, George," said Peter.  "I was just about to kill my father in law."

   "Well, I can't let you do that here, my man.  Heh!  I've wanted to do
the same thing to my brother in law but, you know, there are laws against
it.  You go on home and I'll see to your father in law."

   "I'm all right," said Paul after his son in law left.

   "Well, if you want to remain that way," said the policeman, "You'd best
stay away from that guy." Paul merely nodded his head.  Peter wouldn't be
an impediment to his plans much longer.  The wizard knew exactly how he'd
do it and he wouldn't have to use magic at all.



   ------

   Chapter 17

   Paul couldn't believe what he just witnessed.  His father had punched
Paul's grandfather in the face.  He knew he'd been ordered to go straight
home but he couldn't resist trying to find out why there seemed to be so
much hostility between the two men.  There was already a cop on the scene
and Paul wondered if he'd have to run home and tell Mom that Dad had been
arrested.  The cop just talked to Peter for a few moments and must have
told his dad to go home.  Peter turned to go and Paul ran home as fast as
he could go.

   Paul was pissed at his dad for interfering.  His grandfather warned him
his father and he didn't get along but Paul wondered what it was that
prompted Peter to resort to violence.  Paul's grandfather had valuable
information that the boy needed.  The eleven-year-old knew he'd be ordered
to stay away from his grandfather and vice versa but Paul needed to see the
man again.  His life depended on it.  Well, at least he had a name and
description of the man causing so much grief to him and his family, Mr. 
Singh.  Still, that wasn't enough information to go on.  Why did this man
have it in for his family?  He had to have more data.

   "Oh, Paul," said his mother as he walked in.  "I just sent your father
to look for you.  Did you see him?"

   "I saw him," Paul snapped.  Yvonne noticed her son's tone of voice right
away.

   "Is something wrong?" she asked.

   "Not much," the boy responded.  "Dad punched out Grandpa and--"

   "Grandpa?  Oh, my Lord!" Paul immediately regretted relating the news
when he saw the horror in his mother's face and heard it in her voice.

   "Is Daddy all right?" said Elizabeth.  "Did Daddy really hit his dad?"
The other girls didn't say anything but they were looking as concerned as
their mother.

   "It's Mom's dad I'm talking about.  Dad's all right," Paul said quickly.
"A cop broke up the fight and sent Dad home.  He's on his way." Yvonne
seemed visibly relieved but the concerned expression didn't leave her face.

   "I didn't even know we had a grandpa from Mom's side of the family,"
said Debbie.  Peter walked into the house at that moment.  Husband and wife
communicated silently with each other for a moment and then Peter turned to
his son.

   "Paul, I don't want you seeing or speaking to that man ever again.  Do
you understand?"

   "What's wrong with just talking?" Paul protested.

   "There are certain things between us you don't know about and aren't
meant to know about," Peter replied.  "Now, I asked you a question.  I'll
repeat it.  Do you understand?"

   "I...  I don't understand," the boy said.

   "Then let me put another way," said his father.  "You'll obey my orders
whether you understand them or not.  Now, is that clear?"

   "Yes sir," said Paul.  Peter walked up to his son and put his hand on
the boy's shoulder.

   "Please trust me on this, son." Paul sighed and nodded his head.

   "I'm going up to my room," the boy said.  When he left Peter sat down
and looked at his wife.

   "Try and talk to him, will you?"

   "I'll try," Yvonne replied and followed her son upstairs.

   Peter Griffin was angry.  The man he hated most in the world had
resurfaced.  What could he possibly be up to?  Peter knew his father in law
didn't really care about his grandson, Paul.  Peter knew that old bastard
was Paul's real father but Peter still saw the boy as his own.  It was the
only way he could keep his sanity.  God!  He really was going to kill that
guy if George hadn't been close by.

   Peter saw it as his Christian duty to treat Paul as his son and feel the
same love for Paul as he felt for his daughters.  It wasn't Yvonne's fault
her father raped her.  And what was he supposed to do otherwise, slay the
boy or put him up for adoption?  The unfortunate man shook his head sadly.
There was something else that bothered him now.  He felt Paul cringe
unmistakably when he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.  He hadn't done
that before.

   Did Paul have some clue of what his father had become?  No one knew
except Yvonne and she wouldn't say anything to their son.  Was there some
sort of special mark on Peter's forehead that told everyone he was now a
queer?  Peter wanted to believe he just imagined his son cringing at his
touch but he couldn't put the possibility out of his mind.

   Paul heard the tentative knock on his door and saw his mother peek in.
"Is it all right if I come in, Paul?"

   "Come on in, Mom." Paul was sitting on the edge of his bed staring at
the floor.  Yvonne closed the door and sat down beside her son.

   "It's really important you listen to your father, Paul."

   "I'm listening, Mom.  I'm listening for reasons why he wants me to stay
away from my grandpa.  I'm listening for reasons why Dad attacked him.  I'm
not hearing any of that."

   "Like your father said, he has reasons and they're perfectly valid
reasons.  I agree with them fully."

   "You're beating around the bush, Mom," Paul responded.  "You're saying
there are reasons without giving me any reasons just like Dad.  Grandpa and
I were just talking.  We weren't doing anything wrong.  I want to talk to
him again.  I have to talk to Grandpa again." Yvonne looked surprised at
Paul's last statement.

   "Why do you have to talk to your grandpa again?"

   "I...  I can't tell you right now." Paul cursed himself for saying more
than he wanted to his mother.  Yvonne stood up and faced her son.

   "Paul, I'm frightened.  You're frightening me.  Not just because of
what's happened in this house since you came home from the hospital but...
other things as well...  such as keeping secrets from your parents."

   "Well, we all have to keep some secrets from the people we love, don't
we," said Paul.  He stood up and wrapped his arms around his mother's
waist. His hands moved down to her wide hips and began to caress them.

   "D-don't start anything, Paul.  Your father is just downstairs." Yvonne
tried to back away but her son pulled against his rapidly inflating prick.
"Please don't, darling.  Now isn't the time," she begged.  Despite her
words she bent down and kissed Paul passionately.  "What am I going to do
with you?" she added in a whisper as if talking to herself.

   "You're going to trust me, Mom.  Sooner or later, you're going to have
to tell me what's going on.  Why do you and Dad hate Grandpa?  Please tell
me.  I promise I'll understand"

   Yvonne sighed and said, "Your grandfather started molesting me when I
was no older than Debbie is right now.  He continued to molest me up to the
day I left home and married your father.  I confided this to your father
after we were married.  Naturally, he wants to protect me and his family.
That's not so unusual, is it?"

   "No," the shocked lad said simply.

   "I don't know what my father's motives are but it isn't because of any
love he has for me or my children.  I suspect he wants something and he's
trying to use you to get it." Yvonne laughed mirthlessly.  "I just thought
of something.  You're following in your grandfather's footsteps by
molesting your own family members.  Isn't that funny?" She stepped back
easily from her son this time.  Paul no longer tried to hold her.  "I have
to finish getting dinner ready," Yvonne said and walked out the bedroom
door.  Out in the hall she took a deep breath.  The young mother of five
knew she was taking a terrific chance by telling Paul what she did.  She
just hoped he wouldn't probe further because Yvonne omitted a couple of
pertinent points; the circumstances under which Paul was conceived and the
identity of his real father.

   Paul sat on his bed contemplating what his mother just told him.  No
wonder his parents didn't want her father around.  Paul would feel the same
way in their shoes.  Still, he couldn't generate any feelings of guilt or
shame when his mother chided him for molesting her and her sisters.  The
circumstances were entirely different, weren't they?  He really hadn't used
any force on anyone, had he?  Paul knew he was rationalizing his actions to
continue his behavior.  Still, it wouldn't hurt to go back downstairs and
mend fences with his dad.

   Paul engaged his dad in conversation and Peter seemed glad of it.  They
kept the conversation light and concentrated on school and sports.  At
dinner however, Paul was back to thinking about his mother and sisters.  He
found he could grope Ann and Elizabeth at the table because they sat on
either side of him and no one else would be the wiser.  Elizabeth got back
at him though when she grabbed at his prick through his trousers and
started gently stroking it.  He was afraid of coming in his pants right at
the table.  That would have been a major embarrassment!  He was the last
one to leave the table so he could allow his erection to subside.

   After dinner Paul went up to his room to wait for his sisters to get
there.  He knew they were likely to be as curious about their grandfather
as he was.  The boy wasn't wrong.  Even Carol couldn't keep away.  "What's
he like?" she said when he opened the door to her knock.  Paul noticed his
other three sisters were crowded close behind her.  "What did he tell you?"

   "I can't really tell you anything," said Paul.  "We only met and started
to talk when Dad showed up." That wasn't the truth but Paul didn't feel
like being interrogated.

   "What have I told you girls about going to your brother's room?" said
their mother's voice near the landing.

   "We weren't really inside Paul's room, Mom," said Ann.

   "I don't need you girls seeking out gossip either," said Yvonne.  "Now
go find something better to do or I'll find something for you to do." There
was a collective groan of disappointment and the girls started for their
rooms.

   "You've never told us anything about Grandpa," Debbie complained.

   "Someday, maybe," the young mother replied.

   "That usually means never," said Carol.  There were no further
complaints and the hall was soon empty except for Yvonne.  She slipped into
her son's room and closed the door.

   "Thank you for calming your father down," said his mother.  "This really
has him worried."

   "It wouldn't make sense to say anything else about it after what you
told me," said Paul.  "I'll slug the guy myself if he ever tries to touch
you again."

   "You're my knight in shining armor," said Yvonne.  She hugged Paul and
gave him a maternal kiss on the cheek.  She turned back to the door.

   "Did I say you could leave?" Yvonne froze in mid stride.

   "I...  I have to get back downstairs."

   "You'll leave when I give you permission to leave." Paul backed his
mother up against the door and slipped her hands underneath her dress.  The
young mother spread her legs slightly to give her son access, too
weak-willed to even protest.  This had to stop but it wouldn't be stopped
by her.  No, it was likely to stop only when they were caught.  It was just
a matter of time before that happened.  They were taking too many chances.
What then?  The consequences were just too horrible to contemplate.  Paul
slipped his mother's panties to mid thigh and began to finger her moist
slit.

   "Please don't," Yvonne begged while humping on the boy's finger at the
same time.  Paul withdrew his finger and stuck it in his mouth to sample
the flavor of his mother's goo.

   "It tastes great, Mom.  Would you like to taste it too?" Yvonne shook
her head but Paul retrieved some more from the plentiful source.  He stuck
it under her nose.  "Go ahead and taste it, Mom." She shook her head again
and closed her eyes.

   "Fuck me if you want to, Paul but please don't humiliate me." That was
fine with Paul.  Yvonne shuffled the few steps to the edge of the bed with
her panties still down and bent over.  The eleven-year-old boy with the
eight-inch prick slid it easily inside his lovely mother's sopping hole. 
Yvonne sighed with pleasure as she felt her vagina being filled up with her
son's prick.

   "I'm never going to stop fucking you, Mom," said Paul as sawed his prick
in and out of Yvonne's snatch.  "You know that, don't you?"

   "It's wrong, Paul.  We've got to stop.  We'll get caught."

   "You're right.  We do have to be more careful around Dad but I'm not
going to stop fucking you."

   "One of the girls could catch us too.  She'll tell her father for sure."

   Paul chuckled.  "You don't really believe the girls don't know about
what's going on.  They've known almost from the beginning.  Debbie was the
first to know and then the others found out.  Carol was the only one who
was told about what you and I were doing.  I guess she had her nose buried
in a book too much to notice." Yvonne suspected as much but she didn't want
to admit it to herself.  Now it was being mentioned by Paul as if it was no
big deal and there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it.  "In
fact, the girls are now openly discussing among themselves and want to
bring it out in the open."

   "That's...  that's impossible."

   "Why not?  Of course, Dad couldn't know but the rest of us could stop
sneaking around and pretending it's not happening.  What do you think?"

   Think?  She didn't want to think.  If she thought about such things it
would drive her crazy.  Right now Yvonne wanted to feel, feel the fast
approaching cum that would temporarily sweep away her cares.  The pretty
mother cried out as an intense orgasm swept over her and then she could
feel her son pumping more incestuous sperm inside her body.  "I'll take
that as a yes?" said Paul as he pulled out of his mother and zipped up.

   Yvonne tried to recover as much dignity as she could.  She pulled up her
panties and straightened her dress.  She glared at her son and said," Are
you through with me?  May I go now?" Paul bowed slightly and opened the
door for her.  As his mother exited the room and her sexual high faded the
unfortunate mother began to think about what her daughters thought of her.
"I wish I were dead," she muttered loud enough for Paul to hear.

   No matter how much his mother gave him Paul always wanted more.  No
matter how much Paul took from his mother he always wanted more.  No matter
how much he wanted to control himself he always managed to hurt his mom or
take advantage of one of his sisters.  Since he was never like this before
he woke up in this body Paul decided it was part of the evil eye curse that
the mysterious Mr.  Singh put on him...  but for what purpose?  What had an
eleven-year-old from Hoboken, New Jersey ever done to this man from India?
The real Paul still hadn't come back to him in his dreams.  Were they
somehow being blocked from communicating with each other?  Paul never
believed in séances but he sure wished he knew someone who could hold one
now.

   "Do we have a Ouija board, Debbie?"

   "Of course not, silly.  We're Catholic.  The Church doesn't approve of
fortune tellers and that type of thing."

   "Oh," said Paul.  "I thought it was just some sort of board game." Paul
had the idea he might be able to communicate with his ghostly counterpart
that way.

   "Sister Mary Catherine says that experimenting with the occult,
including Ouija boards, is a sure ticket on the ride to h-e-l-l.  However,
if you want me to tell you your immediate future I'll be glad to," she
said. Debbie leaned over confidentially and lowered her voice.  "Just don't
tell Mom or Dad." They were sitting in the kitchen which seemed the safest
place to talk without their mother hovering around.  She pretended to look
into a crystal ball like a gypsy fortuneteller.  It was just a water glass.
"I see you coming to my room tonight, crawling into bed with me and--." She
shook her head.  "I'm sorry.  The rest is unclear but I'm sure it'll be
very interesting.  That will be a quarter, please."

   "I'll have to owe you."

   "That's okay.  If you really do come to my room I'll forget all about
what you owe me."

   Paul smiled and said, "I'll try."

   Paul lay awake on his bed later that evening trying to figure out his
next move.  He had to talk to his grandfather again to see if he knew
anything else.  Any meeting with the man would be tempered with the
knowledge that Paul's grandfather had molested his own daughter.  Paul
would be suspicious of the guy now and would try to have an arm's length
relationship with him.  He wouldn't even try to meet the bastard if Paul
didn't think he had more information for him.  He knew it would be going
against his parents' wishes but sometimes it was necessary to do just that.
There wasn't any way he could explain it to them...  that their son was
dead and he was a 50-year-old man from the future occupying their deceased
son's body.  They'd be mourning a stranger if Mr.  Singh succeeded in
killing him but they would still think he was their son.

   Paul probably would have given up right about then and gone to sleep
except that he got to thinking about visiting Debbie.  He did say he'd try
and visit her.  His prick became fully alert at the prospect and seemed to
like the idea.  The decision was made.  The young boy slipped out of his
room and, quietly as he could, slipped into Ann's and Debbie's room. 
Debbie stirred slightly when she felt the mattress shift.  "I was hopin'
you'd come," she mumbled and reached out to take her little brother in her
arms.

   "I can't stay long," Paul said and wiggled out of his pajama bottoms.

   "That's okay as long as it's a quarter's worth.  Kiss me first.  Will
you please?  I want to make believe you're in love with me."

   "I do love you," Paul protested and gave his sister the requested kiss.
He started tugging on Debbie's pajama bottoms.

   "If you really loved me you wouldn't be sleeping with my competition
too."

   "Are you going to gab all night?" the boy complained.  "I think you used
up your quarter's worth of time already.  I'm very expensive and you're
going to wind up paying me."

   "I'll have to owe you," she replied but hurriedly finished pulling her
bottoms down.  Paul crawled between his sister's legs and slid his prick
into her wet, gooey snatch.  The 13-year-old beauty let out a little squeal
of delight.

   "Quiet!" he hissed.  "I don't want Ann to wake up."

   "Don't have enough energy for the both of us?  You must have fucked Mom
tonight or you're going to fuck her."

   "You talk too much," Paul complained.  "I'm leaving if you open your
mouth again." Debbie made a motion as if to zip her mouth and closed her
eyes to enjoy the intense feelings she was experiencing.  Paul, in the
meantime, was trying to decide which pussy he liked fucking the best.  He
guessed each one had something about her pussy he liked.  His mom had the
loosest cunt.  That was to be expected after giving birth to five children.
Ann had the tightest snatch but that didn't mean he didn't like to fuck
her. It was hard to decide.  Carol kept popping in his mind but not because
of anything special about her pussy but because she was so reluctant. 
Still, there wasn't anything wrong with the pussy he was fucking now.  The
answer had to be whatever pussy he was fucking at the time was the best. 
With that firmly in his mind Paul began to squirt his load inside his
oldest sister.

   After kissing Debbie good night Paul crept back out into the hall. 
"What the heck are you doing in there?" a harsh whisper demanded out of the
darkness.

   "Shit!  You scared the hell out of me," Paul responded once he could
find his voice.  The side of Paul's face exploded in pain.  He didn't see
his mom's slap coming.

   "You get to your room and stay there, young man.  If you touch me or
your sisters again I'm going to send you away.  Do you understand me?"

   "Yes," whimpered Paul.  He was backing away in case his mother wanted to
slap him again.  Instead, she turned around and stomped back to her room.
The eleven-year-old rubbed at his cheek to relieve the sting.  He supposed
he deserved that.  Actually, he was surprised it didn't come a lot sooner.
The boy returned to his room and crawled into bed.  He supposed he'd have
to get used to using his hand to get sexual relief from now on.  The party
was over.

   Paul didn't sleep very well that night but it wasn't because of any
guilt associated with his recent behavior.  The dream Paul kept yelling,
"Warn Daddy!  Warn Daddy!" But warn Daddy of what?



   ------

   Chapter 18



   ------

   Paul and his mother pretty much avoided each other the next morning. 
The young man knew he was messing up his life and other people's lives but
his pride and arrogance got in the way of apologizing to his mother and
sisters and starting fresh.  Well, Paul had something else to worry about;
like what the heck that dream meant.  What could he tell his father so it
would make sense?  Should he say anything at all?  Could people in the
spirit world see the future?  Why couldn't that little bastard be specific?

   Paul fussed all day at school but that didn't accomplish anything.  He
tried to think logically like he learned to do as an adult but he just
didn't have enough information to operate on.  He was sure his dream Paul
would give him the full story if he could.  Paul just hoped it wasn't too
late.  "Are you feeling all right, dear?" his mother asked at the dinner
table that evening.

   "I'm just not hungry, Mom."

   "Are you not feeling well?  Should I take your temperature?"

   "I...  it's not that," Paul replied.  "I just had a bad dream last night
and it's been bothering me ever since." The eleven year old boy wondered if
he should be discussing this at the dinner table but he had no one else he
could confide in.

   "Would you like to talk about it?"

   "I...  I had a dream about Dad."

   "A dream about me?" said Peter with a smile.  "Why don't you tell us
about it," he suggested, "unless you don't think the girls should hear and
then we can talk about it in private."

   "No!" cried Ann.  "We want to hear about Paul's dream too.  What did you
dream, Paul?"

   Paul looked directly into his father's eyes and said, "I dreamed you
were in danger.  It wasn't anything I could see.  I only felt the danger. I
knew you had to stop whatever you were doing or something terrible was
going to happen."

   Peter could feel his face burning with embarrassment.  He exchanged a
quick glance with his wife that spoke volumes.  The man had the
uncomfortable feeling once more that his son knew something about his
homosexual activities.  "Well, that was quite a dream you had, son," he
said and once more smiling in an effort to recover his calm.

   "But it was just a dream," Yvonne added.  "You shouldn't put too much
stock in dreams, Paul.  Most dreams are just that; only dreams.  They don't
predict anything."

   "I know that," said Paul.  He thought he'd done his best to carry out
the request his spirit counterpart wanted him to do.

   "I'm scared, Daddy," said Elizabeth.  "Maybe you shouldn't go to work
tonight." The other girls nodded in agreement.

   "I can't do that, honey," her father responded.  "Remember it was just a
dream.  I'm a cautious kind of guy at work.  I want to see all of you grown
up and happy and that's what I intend, God willing."

   "I'm not even sure if it had anything to do with work," said Paul.  He
shrugged his shoulders.  He couldn't think of anything else to say.  The
rest of the dinner conversation was muted.  Each person at the table seemed
preoccupied with his own thoughts.

   "May I speak to you for a moment, Paul?" Paul was just starting up the
stairs when his mother called him.

   "Sure, Mom," he responded.

   "I uh, just wanted to apologize for slapping you last night."

   "That's all right, Mom.  I deserved it."

   "Don't say that.  I hate violence and I'm ashamed of what I did." Paul
only nodded.  He wished he was ashamed of what he'd done since he arrived
in the household but he wasn't.

   "Mom?  I'm sorry I upset everyone at the dinner table tonight."

   "Don't be sorry.  If you can't talk about your dreams with your
family... and it was just a dream."

   "But that's just it.  I...  I think it was more than just a dream.  It
was a warning, a real warning."

   "But how do know?" said Yvonne.  "You can't know.  I think I may have
influenced you by things I implied were going on with your father. 
Naturally you became worried about him.  I should be the one apologizing to
you...  for what I allowed."

   "You wouldn't have told me those things if you weren't worried about Dad
in the first place." Paul looked around and noticed the girls hovering
around the bottom of the stairs.  They were curious about the intense but
whispered conversation going on between their mother and brother.  Yvonne
noticed it also.

   "That's true but it's my worry, not a worry for an eleven-year-old boy.
Quit trying to eavesdrop, girls.  Does everyone have their homework done?"
Paul only nodded as he watched his mother shoo away his sisters and walk
back to the kitchen.  How could he tell Yvonne it wasn't just a dream but a
real message from their real son?

   Peter Griffin had a small office just off the loading dock in the
warehouse where he worked.  It was more like a cubby hole; just an old desk
and chair with a telephone.  The door lock had long ago ceased to function
and the cramped quarters was covered with the stains, graffiti and even
smells of his predecessors.  No one noticed who placed the brown envelope
on his desk.  It wasn't from upper management or the union and it didn't
come by mail.  There was no postmark on it, just his name with the word
'confidential' printed in box letters.  He'd just clocked in but there were
still a few minutes before his shift started.

   Peter decided to open it to see if it was something he had to deal with
immediately or if it could just wait.  The unfortunate man didn't know
whether to faint or vomit when he examined the contents.  It contained
pictures of him and another man in a compromising pose.  There was no
mistaking Peter's face in the pictures.  The other man's face was less
clear.  What they were doing was graphically clear.

   How could I have been so stupid!  The man never considered the
possibility of being caught.  He thought he'd been so careful.  Neither had
he consider the consequences of being caught.  What did the man who took
these photos want?  There was no money demand, at least not yet.  How much
would a blackmailer demand?  Sure, 75 bucks a week was good pay but it
didn't make him rich.  With a wife and five children to feed, clothe and
shelter there was barely enough to put into savings.  There just wasn't any
money to pay off the bastard if that's what he wanted.  What did he want?

   Yvonne, the most beautiful and wonderful girl he'd ever met, fell in
love with him and him with her.  They had married very young.  Sure, it was
rough in the beginning but things improved and their love grew.  The only
person who seemed determined to make their lives miserable was her damned
father but they mostly ignored him until...  Yvonne's rape and pregnancy.
They eventually put that crisis behind them also and they began to lead a
normal life again.

   Peter wasn't sure when it started but over a period of years for no
apparent reason, he began to feel attracted toward men.  The feelings
disgusted him but they persisted.  At the same time Peter began to desire
his wife less and less.  It finally got to the point where any sexual
contact with her at all was repellant to him.  It was then that the family
man decided to act on his yearnings.  It was easy enough.  A certain part
of New York City was rumored to have a concentration of them.  The sex was
anonymous, unsatisfying and filled him with guilt yet it fulfilled a need
that had taken up residence in his soul.  Now his life seemed shattered.

   The fact that the pictures came to his job told him that his employers
and fellow employees would soon be informed.  The men would refuse to work
for a queer and the company would fire him.  That would be the least of it
if he was lucky.  The men he'd worked with for over ten years, some of them
his friends, would probably beat him or even kill him for being a homo. 
Even if Peter escaped that fate, the word would soon spread and he'd be
unemployable and a pariah.  And what would happen to his wife and children?
Would they reject him also?  It would probably be better if they did. 
Peter would no longer be able to provide for them.

   Peter Griffin knew what he to do in order to protect his wife and
children.  The unfortunate man silently prayed for forgiveness and then
crossed himself.  He took the pictures and dumped them in a trash can fire
the men had set to keep warm.  He greeted them as if nothing was amiss.

   "Paul?  Wake up, honey."

   "Mom?" Paul tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.  "Whassup?" It
wasn't time to get up yet.

   "There's been an accident.  There are men downstairs who say your
father--." Yvonne burst into tears.  Paul was instantly alert and holding
the poor woman in his arms.

   "W-will he be all right?" Paul knew the answer before she replied.  The
warning in his dream had come too late to save Peter Griffin.

   "You're the man of the house now, Paul," sobbed his mother.  "You're the
man of the house."

   The next week was a blur to Paul.  He tried to be a help to his mother
meeting and greeting family and family friends he'd never met before but
Debbie and Carol seemed more adept.  Everybody knew of the accident and
"amnesia" so no one seemed to mind him not knowing anyone.

   The funeral Mass was filled to overflowing and everyone was very
supportive but finally, the last mourner left and the family was alone. 
After the initial shock and disbelief there was the expected grief and
mourning but Yvonne and the girls had held up pretty well in Paul's
opinion. He wasn't sure about himself.  The boy felt he could have done
more to have prevented his father's untimely death.

   Company officials called it a freak accident and an investigation was
underway.  Peter had somehow fallen under the wheels of a semi truck and
trailer backing up to a loading dock.  Paul knew it had to be murder. 
Someone pushed him and it was probably this Mr.  Singh.  Hadn't his spirit
counterpart warned him that his father was in danger?  Yet, there was no
way to prove it.

   "Why did Daddy have to die, Mom?" said Ann.  It was more words than the
girl spoke in three days.  The family was seated together in the living
room.

   "I don't know, honey," said her mother, "except I do know it was God's
will."

   "Maybe God needed Daddy with Him," Elizabeth responded.

   "That's a good way of putting it, Elizabeth," said Yvonne.  "God must
have needed Daddy in Heaven with Him."

   "Paul tried to warn Daddy," Debbie cried.  "If he had stayed home he'd
still be alive." Yvonne didn't respond.  She didn't want to argue with her
daughter.  The same words had rolled around in her mind but who could have
known her son's words were to be prophetic?  Still, Peter was now gone and
they could spend the rest of their lives thinking about what might have
been or get on with their lives.  Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock
at the door.

   "I'll get it," said Carol.

   "Please tell whoever it is to come back another day," said her mother.
"I'm just not up to seeing anyone else today."

   "All right, Mom," said Carol and went to answer the door.

   "What's going to happen to us without Daddy?" Ann whimpered.  "I'm
scared."

   "We'll be all right.  I'm sure of it," said Yvonne.  She hugged her
youngest daughter who was sitting beside her on the couch.  There was some
insurance money and offers of assistance from friends and family but how
long could that last.  Also, there was something that surprised her.  It
was...

   "Mom?"

   "Yes, dear.  Who was it?"

   "There's a man at the door.  He says he's my grandpa."

   "Oh Lord!" Yvonne cried.  Would there never be an end to her torment? 
She walked to the door to talk to her father, the man she hadn't seen in
years and the biological father of her son.  Her children followed close
behind.  She merely nodded at the man she feared more than nearly anything
or anyone else in the world.

   "Hello, Yvonne," said her father.  "I just heard about Peter's accident
and I'm so sorry.  I know it's probably not convenient but may I come in...
just for a few minutes only?" Yvonne wanted to slam the door in the man's
face but she just didn't have the energy.  He was still her father after
all and he did say it was only for a few minutes.  Yvonne decided she
wouldn't invite him to sit down.  The miserable woman nodded again and
moved aside for him to enter.

   "I met Debbie and Carol when they were just babies.  You two probably
don't remember me," said Paul Caldwell.  Debbie and Carol both blushed and
shook their heads.  They felt shy in the presence of this man who was their
grandfather.  "And you two must be Elizabeth and Ann.  I'm your Grandpa
Paul.  Your brother was named after me." The two youngest girls also
blushed and smiled faintly.  They seemed in awe of the man.  "I certainly
didn't mean to meet you again like this, Paul.  It looks like you're now
the man of the house."

   "Me neither, Grandpa," said Paul.  "I guess I am the man of the house."
The boy wasn't sure how to react to his grandfather's presence after
hearing the revelations of Yvonne's sexual abuse at the hands of her very
own father.  He decided to be cordial but on his guard.  Many people had
called him the 'man of the house' in the past few days.

   "Well, I just came to offer my condolences, of course.  I know things
are going to be rough so I wanted to give you some money to help you get
by."

   "I...  I appreciate the offer, father...  but I think we'll be all
right. There was some insurance money...  and I'm planning on getting a
job. Thank you for the offer." She didn't want to accept any money from her
father.  Yvonne didn't feel as confident as she was trying to make out but
she knew there'd be strings attached from him.

   "Are you sure?" Paul Caldwell reached into his pocket and brought out a
wad of bills.  "There's a thousand dollars here." He smiled as he held it
out to his daughter.  He knew she was tempted but also knew she would never
accept his charity.

   "Like I said, I appreciate the offer but--"

   "I think we should accept," young Paul interrupted.  He reached out and
took the money from the man's hand.  Paul Caldwell was too shocked to react
but he knew the little bastard had some nerve to do that.

   "Paul!  It's not your place to--"

   "It is my place since I'm now the man of the house as everyone keeps
telling me.  I should have a chance to help in the decision-making in this
house.  We shouldn't be true to proud to accept when Grandpa is trying to
help out.  Thank you, Grandpa."

   "You won't go spending it all on comic books, will ya?"

   "We'll spend it wisely, Grandpa.  Thank you again." Paul briefly
embraced the dumbfounded man.  The middle-aged man hadn't counted on the
little bastard sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.

   Yvonne finally nodded.  "I suppose Paul's right.  I am being too proud.
After all, I'm the widowed mother of five children and soon to be six."

   "What are you talking about?" the older man asked.

   "I wasn't sure until this morning.  At least, I'm pretty sure.  I'm
carrying my late husband's child."

   "But that's impossible!" The vehemence of the man's response caused
everyone to recoil.  Yvonne stepped behind her son and young Paul spread
his arms protectively.

   "And why is that impossible?" Yvonne asked.

   "I...  uh...  I guess I used the wrong word.  I should have termed it
unfortunate...  that Peter...  will never know...  he had fathered another
child...  and the child will never know his father.  Well, I think I'd
better be going.  Uh, I'd talk to you again, Paul, if that's all right with
you." The older man had suffered two shocks in less than a minute.  He
wanted to leave and think it out.

   "You can call me, Grandpa, and thanks again."

   After her father left Yvonne said, "May I see you upstairs, Paul? 
Girls, I know you must have a thousand questions but first I need to talk
to your brother in private." This didn't silence the girls at all but she
refused to say anything and led her son upstairs.

   "Do have any questions for me, Paul?" Yvonne asked when she closed the
bedroom door.

   "Am I the father?" It was the obvious question but Paul was already sure
of the answer.

   Yvonne nodded her head.  "It must have happened the very first night we
were together."

   "Are you sure you're pregnant?  I mean...  it happened kind of quick."

   "I'm very familiar with all the signs and symptoms of pregnancy," Yvonne
replied.  "I've been pregnant five times before you know.  I could be wrong
but I don't think so.  I'll being seeing the doctor next week to take a
test that should confirm it."

   "I'm sorry," was the only words Paul could think to say.  He didn't
think he was telling the truth.  The thought of making love such a
beautiful woman was a fantasy come true for Paul, at least it was in his
former lifetime.

   "Don't be sorry, Paul.  I'm the adult and I accept the full
responsibility of my actions.  I'm the one who first invited you into my
bed.  I didn't stop you when I could have and should have done.  I think I
did all but encourage you.  A child is the natural result of the kind of
relationship we started.  I wouldn't be surprised if you hated me now for
what I've gotten you involved in."

   "I could never hate you, Mom.  I love you.  I'll always love you."

   "I'm happy to hear that, Paul because I have something very important to
ask of you."

   "I'm listening."

   "Everyone will think your father was the baby's father.  No one must
think otherwise."

   "I understand that, Mom.  I'm not going say anything to anyone."

   "I knew you'd understand that but there's more.  If you continue to
sleep with the girls, one of them may become pregnant also.  If that
happens the authorities might start snooping around and questions will be
asked.  If the truth becomes known they'll take you and the others away
from me and throw me in prison."

   "So, you want me to stop sleeping with the girls.  Is that it?"

   "That's exactly it, darling.  In return, I'll continue to...  sleep with
you.  Would you like that?" Paul nodded his head in agreement.  His mother
was right.  If Debbie or Carol got knocked up there would be lots of
questions asked.  It was the safe and common sense thing to do.  As a bonus
he'd still be able to share his mother's bed with her.  Paul was sure his
sisters would understand.

   Paul Caldwell couldn't understand it.  Someone was poaching in his
territory.  Peter Griffin certainly couldn't have done the deed to Yvonne.
He was a confirmed homo.  Paul had made sure of it.  Heh!  It was fairly
easy to blackmail that guy into compromising Peter with pictures of them
doing nasty things to each other.  Well, his late son in law had taken the
easy way out and thrown himself under the wheels of a semi.  Paul was
pretty sure that was how it happened.  It was almost too easy.  The older
man wished he could have prolonged the torture for Peter but that was water
under the bridge.  He took a sip of his whiskey and then almost choked.

   "Are you all right?" the bartender asked.

   "I'm fine," Paul Caldwell said.  He finally realized something.  It was
the way the girls looked at their brother when their mother announced her
pregnancy.  Ha!  They were almost shouting, 'You're the father' by their
expressions.  The little bastard was taking after his real father.  Paul
had to admire the little guy.  He almost regretted having to dispose of
him. His bastard son was probably fucking his sisters too.  Well, if he was
right, they weren't likely even blink an eye when crawled into bed with
them after he took over his son's body.  Life was good.



   ------

   Chapter 19

   "I'm so sorry about your father," said Gina.  "My whole family prayed
for your father's soul and asked God to keep your family safe." Paul and
his sisters had returned to school the following Monday after the funeral.
He immediately sought out Gina.

   "Thank you, Gina," Paul replied.  "I really appreciate that.  Uh...  do
you think I can talk to your grandmother?  It's really important."

   "I can ask her but she'll want to know why.  If it has anything to do
with that curse she says she's done her best.  That amulet should continue
to protect you."

   "It couldn't protect my father."

   Gina gasped.  "You mean...  how do you know?"

   "I had a dream, Gina.  In my dream a voice told me that my father was in
danger and I should warn him.  The dream didn't tell me what kind of danger
he was in but I do know he was dead 24 hours later.  For all I know the
rest of my family is in danger too.  Please ask your grandmother to let me
talk to her," Paul begged.  "I know you said she can't tell me who is after
me and why but I don't know what else to do.  Maybe she knows someone who
can help me."

   "I'll tell my grandmother everything you told me, Paul," Gina promised.

   "Thank you again, Gina," said Paul and briefly touched the young girl's
hand.  Gina blushed deeply but didn't pull her hand away.  Still, Paul
wondered whether he'd blown it with her and blushed in turn.  "Maybe I'll
be able to talk to you tomorrow," he added and left quickly.

   Paul wasn't sure if talking to Gina's grandmother would do a bit of good
but it was better than waiting around like a sitting duck while Mr.  Singh
made another move against him or another member of his family but what
chance did anyone have against this monster when even his father couldn't
defend himself?  He wondered if he'd receive any guidance in the form of
night time dream visits from his spirit counterpart.  So far, the
information gained had been next to useless.  Still, it would be better
than nothing.

   Paul walked home with his sisters.  He began to regret telling his mom
he would leave the girls alone.  The weather had warmed up a bit and they
had forgone the woolen skirts they usually wore to ward off the cold.  The
girls sure looked cute and desirable as he followed them on the sidewalk.
The eleven-year-old was definitely feeling horny again.  He hadn't been
laid since before Peter's death and Paul was wondering if Yvonne was ready
to restart their incestuous relationship.  Well, whether she was ready or
not Paul was certain he was and there was no longer a chance of Peter
interfering.

   Even as that thought passed through his mind Peter felt guilt and regret
for thinking it.  Peter was a decent man who was cold-bloodedly murdered by
this Mr.  Singh.  Paul swore vengeance on this man he'd never met.  Yeah,
sure the boy thought.  What could he do against a wizard?

   Paul didn't say anything to his mother when he got home.  It looked
she'd been crying.  That was to be expected as she was still in mourning
for her husband.  "Is there anything I can do to help, Mom?"

   "No thank you, Paul.  It's sweet of you to offer but I think the girls
and I have everything in control."

   "Should, uh...  should I come to your room tonight?" He colored up just
as Yvonne did who knew exactly what her son meant.  She looked behind her
to see if the girls were eavesdropping.

   "It's too soon," the young widow whispered.  Paul nodded.  He didn't
begrudge Yvonne a length of time to mourn her husband.  The boy just hoped
it wouldn't be too long.  He went to his room and read until he was called
to dinner.

   Even though Paul had only know Peter for a very short time it still felt
weird to know his father's customary place at the head of the table would
always remain empty.  He could imagine how the rest of the family felt. 
Paul helped Elizabeth with her homework a bit and then went to his room. 
Laying on his bed the boy felt so helpless.  He was a sitting duck waiting
for something bad to happen to him and unable to do anything about it. 
After wasting a couple of hours worrying about things Paul got ready for
bed and said good night to everyone.

   Paul was debating with himself whether or not to jack off to relieve his
horniness when the door opened and someone crept in.  It was Elizabeth. 
"What do you need?" Paul asked.  The ten-year-old beauty didn't answer but
she pulled off the covers of her brother's bed and grasped his rigid prick
which had already escaped the fly of his pajamas.

   "Don't!" Paul hissed.

   "Try and stop me," Elizabeth retorted with a giggle and then filled her
mouth with the head of her beloved brother's cock.  Stop her?  Paul didn't
want to stop her after over a week of abstinence.  Stopping his sister from
sucking his cock was the last thing he wanted to do.  It felt so good that
Paul knew he wouldn't last long.  Elizabeth lifted her mouth off Paul's
prick to smile mischievously and then went back to her work.  Sooner than
he liked Paul felt his cum load begin to spurt into his sister's mouth.  He
grabbed the back of her neck so she couldn't pull away.

   "Swallow it, you little bitch," he demanded.  "Swallow it all.  Don't
miss a drop." The little girl swallowed busily.  She didn't want to disobey
her brother.  When he felt his prick go slack in Elizabeth's mouth Paul let
go of her neck and allowed her to move.

   "I'm not a bitch, Paul," said Elizabeth as she cuddled up next to him.
"I'm your sister and I love you."

   "You're anything I say you are," Paul replied but tempered his words by
kissing her cheek and caressing her hair.

   "Yes, Paul," said Elizabeth.  "I'll be anything you want.  I'll even be
your slave."

   Paul sighed.  "I told Mom I'd leave you guys alone." He sure hadn't kept
that promise very well.  "She doesn't want any of you guys to get
pregnant."

   "I'm glad you didn't listen to her.  I wouldn't mind having your baby.
Neither would the others except maybe Carol." "I'm not surprised Carol
would feel that way but, you know, Mom is right.  You guys shouldn't be
thinking about having babies until at least ten years from now."

   "Ten years?  Mom had Debbie when she was just 15.  I guess Daddy just
couldn't resist her."

   "Yeah, but...  I'm your brother and Mom had to quit school when she got
pregnant...  and...  oh hell!  I can't resist someone as beautiful as you
when you crawl into my bed." he said.  "Uh, please don't tell the others
what happened tonight." Paul wasn't afraid of their mother walking in on
them because she'd started going to bed at the same time as everyone else.

   "They already know what I was going to do.  We drew straws on who was
going to come to you first."

   "Huh?  Even Carol?"

   "Well, she didn't want to draw but we made her.  Her turn is tomorrow
night."

   "How did you get her to agree with that?"

   "We just told Carol we'd tell on her."

   "To who?  Me?"

   "Of course, you.  We told her we all have to do what you say from now
on," said the young girl.  "Also, I reminded of what happened the last time
you visited Carol and me in our room." Paul chuckled.  Carol was probably
scared to death of being humiliated again.

   "What do you think Mom would say if she heard you say that?"

   "I don't care what Mom would say, Paul.  I'd tell her she should do as
you say too."

   "Are you serious?"

   "I'm very serious," Elizabeth insisted.  "Paul, I've been having this
dream lately.  I've been dreaming that you're already in Heaven.  That's
impossible because you're right here and you're holding me in your arms."
Paul could feel the goose bumps form on his arms and suppressed a shudder.
"Anyway," she continued, "the only way I can explain it is that maybe God
sent you back to take care of us because He knew what was going to happen
to Daddy." She choked back a sob.

   "I...  I hope you're right." Well, he wasn't the only one having dreams.
Paul hugged Elizabeth to him.  She couldn't know how this information made
Paul feel.  He wasn't completely crazy after all.

   "Mom's been crying," said Elizabeth.

   "We've all been crying lately."

   "This isn't just about Daddy.  Mom's worried about paying the bills. 
Daddy always took care of everything and she's never been very good at
arithmetic.  You've gotten much better at that.  You should help her." Paul
nodded.

   "I'll try." It would be hard convincing his mother he knew how to manage
a household budget.  He'd even managed multi-million dollar budgets on
major engineering projects.  He wouldn't try.  Paul would have to just do
it even if had to stage a coup.  "You'd better head back to your own bed.
Mom may check on us tonight."

   "Fuck me first, Paul." Elizabeth's tiny hand grasped her brother's prick
and began to massage it back to life.  "Please," she begged and kissed
Paul's lips in as grown up a manner as she knew how.  The young boy didn't
even pretend to resist.  He could feel his lust growing along with the size
of his erection.  He turned the little girl on her back, reached down and
pulled her pajama bottoms and panties off her small hips.  Paul pushed his
sister's legs back and began to work his oversized prick into her immature
cunt.  She was so tight but at least she wasn't cherry any more.  That made
it a little easier for him but Elizabeth had to be uncomfortable.

   "Is this what you wanted?" Paul asked as the head of his prick nudged
the youngster's cervix.  So much for his promises to leave the girls alone.
The boy knew he wouldn't stop after tonight.

   "Yes," Elizabeth responded.  "Fuck me good.  Oh, I wish you were giving
me a baby just like you did with Mom."

   "I wish I was too," Paul said.  The mere thought of giving his little
sister a baby enflamed his lust and he began to furiously hump her. 
Elizabeth didn't protest.  She grunted in pain as her brother thrust into
her but she wasn't about to complain.  She'd bear any pain for her
brother...  her lover.  The ten-year-old beauty felt the stirrings of lust
in her loins for the very first time.

   "Oh, Paul!  Keep fucking me.  I don't know what's happening but it feels
so good."

   "You're cumming," the boy gasped.  "You're cumming." Paul smiled with
satisfaction as he felt his little sister's cunt tremble in orgasm on the
end of his prick.  He was cumming too and squirted another dose of his cum
into Elizabeth's womb.  They spent the next few minutes catching their
breaths.

   "Please let me stay with you tonight, Paul," Elizabeth begged.  "I don't
care if Mom finds us together.  I love you."

   "My slaves have to do what they're told," Paul replied as he caressed
the young beauty's hair.  "If you misbehave I might have to whip you...  or
I might sell you to someone else to save myself the trouble."

   "I wouldn't want you to do that," Elizabeth gasped.  She gave her
brother a quick kiss and scooted from the room.  Hardly a minute passed
before his door opened once again.

   "Paul, I want to see you downstairs right now," his mother demanded in a
no-nonsense tone of voice and closed the door.  Paul sighed in resignation.
He knew his mother would eventually find out what he was doing.  The boy
just wasn't ready for her to find out so soon.  He got up and put on his
slippers.  How in the hell am I going to handle this Paul wondered.

   "I thought we had an understanding between the two of us, Paul," said
Yvonne.  She was seated at the kitchen table.  The table was strewn with
papers.

   "I don't know what you're talking about, Mom."

   "I think you do.  I saw Elizabeth coming out of your room and I don't
have to imagine very hard what you two were doing."

   "Have you been spying on me again, Mom?"

   Yvonne jumped out of her seat.  "I have not been spying on you." The
distraught woman nearly started shouting before regaining control of
herself.  "We agreed you would leave the girls alone and in return I
would..."

   "...  sleep with me?" Paul completed.

   "Yes," Yvonne agreed after a while, "and in no time you broke your end
of the bargain."

   "I guess I did," Paul agreed.  He wandered over to the kitchen table and
perused the papers.  His mother was trying to do the bills apparently.

   "Is that all you have to say?"

   "Well, your figures are off."

   "Young man, those things are none of your business.  Come away from
there and pay attention to me."

   "These checks will bounce if send them out all at once, Mom.  I'll be
glad to help you straighten out this mess."

   "The only thing I want to discuss is this unhealthy relationship you
insist on carrying on with your sisters."

   "What about our unhealthy relationship, Mom?" Yvonne started toward as
if to strike him but then fell back into her chair.  Paul's heart leaped to
his throat in fear and was instantly by her side.  He regretted pushing his
mother too quickly.

   "Are you all right, Mom?  I'm sorry."

   "That's never happened to me before," Yvonne said finally after a few
moments of quiet.

   "You've been under a lot of stress lately."

   "You're right, Paul.  I have been under a lot of stress." The pretty
mother stared down at the table as if ashamed to look her son in the face.
"It's also true that I'm way in over my head when it comes to managing a
budget.  I might have to depend on your help in more ways than I
anticipated."

   "I want to help, Mom.  Let's get you upstairs and to bed.  We'll look at
all that stuff tomorrow." Yvonne nodded and allowed Paul to take her arm
and escort upstairs.  She crawled into bed while Paul turned out the light.
The young mother didn't object when her son crawled into the bed and lay
down beside her.  Paul noticed that his mother didn't try to bring up the
subject of the girls since her dizzy spell.  Well, he didn't want to think
about it.  Before another minute passed Paul and Yvonne were fast asleep in
each other's arms.

   In the morning Paul instructed his mother to make some phone calls.  She
told him Peter had $1,000 in group life coverage at work and $3,000
coverage with an individual policy.  Yvonne hadn't yet filed her claims. 
That wasn't a lot of money even in 1953 to Paul's way of thinking but it
was better than nothing.  When the insurance company kicked loose with the
$10,000 on his own claim they would have some breathing space.  Family,
friends and the union had contributed funds to cover Peter's funeral and
burial.  Paul also corrected Yvonne's mistakes in addition and subtraction
which didn't take long at all.

   At school Gina told Paul her grandmother had agreed to meet with him
after school.  Paul waited impatiently for that appointment to come.  He
might finally get some answers; like how to find Mr.  Singh and how to stop
him from continuing to harm Paul's family as well as avenging his father's
death.

   "I'm going to translate for you," said Gina as they sat on a bench
across the street from the school.

   "That's fine," Paul replied.  "What does she need to know?  Do I have to
do anything?"

   "Just relax and hold out your hands to her." Paul did as instructed and
the old woman sitting beside him grasped his.  Her hands were wrinkled and
gnarled with age but cool and soft to the touch.  Almost immediately Gina's
grandmother pulled her hands away, crossed herself and started speaking. 
She looked pale and sounded frightened.

   "Murder...  lust...  you're infected with it...  another's lust...  lost
innocence," Gina translated.  She sounded every bit as frightened as her
grandmother.  "Ancient magic...  dark evil." Gina asked for a clarification
and then said, "Someone wants to drive out your soul and possess your
body."

   "Mr.  Singh?  Who?  How do I stop him?" Paul demanded.  He could feel
his heart thudding in his chest.

   "N-not Mr.  Singh but she can't tell you who.  I already explained that
to you," the young girl replied.  "My grandmother is finished.  She cannot
tell you any more."

   "Thank you," said Paul.  Well, he had a little bit more information but
not enough to do any good.  Grandpa was apparently wrong about this Mr. 
Singh being the culprit thought Paul but if not Mr.  Singh then who?

   The old lady handed Paul a small bag.  "It contains more amulets...  for
your family," Gina explained.

   "Thank you again," said Paul.  "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Gina."

   "You will never see my granddaughter again," Gina's grandmother declared
in plain English.  Paul was surprised that the old crone spoke English and
saddened by her pronouncement.  He looked at Gina who appeared as sad as
Paul felt.  There was no point in protesting.  Paul realized he was a
danger to anybody who was close to him.  The woman just wanted to protect
her granddaughter.

   When Paul returned home his mother greeted him with a shy smile.  "I did
everything you told me to do.  I don't feel so lost now," said Yvonne.  "I
still can't figure out how you know all this stuff but I thank God you do."

   "I'm glad I can help, Mom.  Uh listen, can I ask you and the girls to do
something without asking questions because I don't know how explain it?"

   "Well, I don't think you can ask a girl the time of day without her
asking questions in return," Yvonne said with a smile although Paul could
tell she was worried.

   "Mom, this is very important."

   "What do you want us to do, Paul?" The girls were listening closely to
the conversation.

   "I want you all to wear these protective amulets?"

   "Amulets?  Why do you want us to wear these...  amulets did you say?"

   "I...  I've been having dreams again, Mom." Yvonne turned pale and
placed one around her neck.  Paul handed one each to his sisters.  "Never
take them off for any reason.  I'm wearing one too."

   "They are pretty," said Yvonne.  "I hope they didn't cost a lot."

   "They didn't cost anything," Paul assured his mother.  "I got them from
a friend."

   "He got them from Gina," said Ann.  "Gina's his new girl friend."

   "Hush up, Ann," Debbie warned.

   "Well, it's true," Ann retorted.  The jealousy was apparent in her tone
of voice.

   "Gina's not my girlfriend," said Paul.  "She's just a friend.  Besides,
I don't think I'll be seeing her any more."

   "Oh?  Why not?" Yvonne asked.

   "Her grandmother doesn't approve of me," Paul said only.

   "I heard she's a witch," said Ann.

   "I'm sure Gina's grandmother isn't a witch," her mother replied.

   "I was talking about Gina."

   "Ann Marie Griffin, I think it's time for you to go to your room and
think about your attitude," Yvonne ordered.

   "I don't care and I won't wear this stupid necklace," the nine-year-old
huffed and stomped her way up the stairs.

   "Well, I think it's good that Paul is starting to take an interest in
girls," said Yvonne and then blushed.  "Come along girls.  It's time to get
dinner ready."

   "What about Ann?"

   "She'll be back down after she calms down."

   "I'll go talk to her," said Paul.  His mother started to say something
but changed her mind and walked out to the kitchen.  Paul knocked once at
Ann's door and walked in.  She'd been crying.

   "Go away," said Ann when she saw her brother.  Paul ignored Ann and sat
down on the bed with her.  He didn't say anything and after a while she
said, "I don't know why you need other girls when you have all of us here."

   "I told you Gina's just a friend."

   "Yeah, but I see how you look at the other girls in school."

   "Well, there sure are a lot of cute ones.  You can't blame me for just
looking."

   Ann giggled and said, "Stop making me laugh.  I'm mad at you."

   Paul put an arm around Ann's shoulder.  "You can be as mad at me as you
want but I need you to wear that amulet."

   "Don't worry," said Ann.  "I'll wear it."

   "Thanks," said Paul and kissed the young girl tenderly.  The kiss turned
more passionate as Ann responded and Paul began to run his hands up and
down her immature body.  "I love you," the eleven-year-old told his sister.

   "Oh gosh, Paul," Ann whispered.  "You can have as many girlfriends as
you want as long you always love me."

   "I appreciate that," Paul replied.  "I'll love you for as long as I
live." Paul sensed that his mother no longer intended to interfere with
him. He felt his lust rising...  or was it his own lust?  Gina's
grandmother said he was infected with another's lust.  The thought began to
bother him.  This certainly wasn't what he was like as Philip Grady.  He
wanted to attribute his prick size and the beauty of the females in this
house for his lust but did that make sense?  Was that an excuse for
seduction and incest?  This someone wasn't through with him and Paul was as
helpless as ever to stop him.  He wasn't disappointed when there was a
knock on the door and Debbie stuck her head in.

   "Help me set the table, Ann," Debbie said.  "Paul can talk with you
later.  Besides, tonight belongs to Carol." She smiled and winked at her
brother.

   "I'm coming," said Ann.  Paul shrugged his shoulders and returned to his
room.  By necessity Paul's bedroom was the smallest.  There was a small bed
and chest that filled the room and a tiny closet that his Sunday suit, a
few shirts and a tie.  Out of boredom he looked under the bed and for the
first time noticed several cardboard boxes.  Paul pulled one out and looked
inside.

   "Holy shit!" he hissed.  "I'm rich!" Lying inside the box was a pile of
comic books; barely read EC, DC, Marvel, Dell and others.  A quick
inspection of the other boxes revealed comic books from the late 40's and
early 50's.  Young Paul must have acquired a lot of them used but they were
all in good or better condition.  No wonder everyone kept referring to his
love of comic books.  Philip Grady tried to start a comic book collection
in the 60's but lost it when his mother threw them out during a house
cleaning while he was away at summer camp.  He never had the heart to
restart the collection.  Mothers were the bane of every boy's comic book
collection and Paul realized he couldn't let that happen to this
collection.

   After he calmed down Paul realized this collection was just a bunch of
old comic books and wouldn't be really valuable until several decades had
passed.  He would have to do something for the immediate future.

   When Paul was called down to supper he found another surprise.  "You
should sit here from now on, Paul," said his mother.  Instead of his usual
place between his two younger sisters his new place was at the head of the
table, his father's seat.  Paul felt kind of strange when he sat down but
at the same time it felt right.  This was his mother's way of saying that
she would accept all of his decisions.  It was kind of a coronation.  The
king is dead.  Long live the king.

   "So, what was new with you guys today?" said Paul as he started out the
table conversation.

   "I got a hundred in my spelling," said Ann.

   "I think I did okay on my arithmetic test," said Elizabeth.

   "I think I'm pregnant," said Carol.  She burst into tears, got up and
fled to her room.

   "I'll go talk to her," said Paul once he recovered from the shock of his
sister's announcement.

   "This is a mother's job," Yvonne declared.  "Please stay here." She rose
from the table and followed her daughter upstairs.

   "It's going to be hard to beat Carol's news," said Debbie, "so I won't
even try."

   Paul waited downstairs until his mother returned.  "How is she?" he
said.

   "Carol's asleep right now," said Yvonne.  "I think it's a little early
to say for sure she's pregnant but it's certainly a possibility." She
turned to her other daughters.  "I'd like to speak to your brother alone.
Please go get ready for bed.  Try not to wake Carol, Elizabeth."

   "I'll be quiet," said Elizabeth.

   "Do you have anything to say, Paul?"

   "I...  I don't have any excuses, Mom.  Once I got started it's like I
couldn't stop myself."

   "I certainly didn't do a very good job in trying to stop you, darling. I
just want you to realize there are consequences to all of our actions."

   "I realize that."

   "I warned you what might happen if you impregnated one of your sisters.
If Carol is confirmed pregnant--"

   "I know, Mom.  I know."

   "Well, I'd like to hear any suggestions you might have in dealing with
this crisis.  I'm fresh out of ideas."

   "We might have to move away to where we're not known."

   "Yes, that's a possibility but where would we move to and how would I
earn a living?  I'm afraid I'm not qualified for a good-paying job like
your father had.  Also, no one wants to hire a pregnant widow who's a high
school dropout.  We've only lived in this house for three years so we
probably could only break even with what we paid for it.  That's almost
$5,000."

   "There's my accident settlement."

   "We can't count on that until the money is actually in our hands and it
won't support us for as long as we need." Yvonne sighed.  "I had hoped to
use that money to pay for your college education.  Well, we might have some
ideas after a night's rest."

   If I only had some operating capital I could be investing in companies
that would make us rich.  Damn it!  Still, if I'm not around to use my
knowledge of the future...  if that unknown bastard takes over my body...
and why does he even want this body?  Is he old and sick?  Did I wind up in
this body because of a fucked up spell?  "Mom, I have something else I want
to discuss with you."

   "Of course, darling, what is it?"

   "I want you to remember a name.  The name is Philip Grady."

   "Philip Grady?  Am I supposed to know this Philip Grady?"

   "N-no, it's just a name I made up.  I want you to keep this name a
secret between us.  Then I want you to ask me to repeat that name the first
of every month or more often if you want."

   "And what happens if you can't repeat this name?"

   "If I can't tell you that name or if I refuse to tell you, then I want
you take the girls and get the hell away from me.  Hide from me."

   "What?  Paul, what are you talking about?" Yvonne demanded.  "You're
scaring me again."

   "It has to do with what Gina's grandmother told me.  She said someone
was trying to drive out my soul and take over my body."

   "But that's superstitious nonsense, Paul."

   "Maybe it is but I don't want to take that chance.  She said I was
infected with lust...  another's lust.  She certainly doesn't know what's
been happening in this house.  You told me I certainly didn't act this way
before my accident.  She mentioned murder.  The only death we know of is
Dad.  Was Dad murdered?"

   "But why, Paul?  Why?  Oh, Lord!"

   "I don't know, Mom.  None of it makes sense.  If I'm wrong then there's
no harm done.  Do you understand?" Yvonne nodded her head.

   "I'm going upstairs to bed." The pretty woman blushed.  "Where are you
going to sleep?"

   "I, uh...  in my room?"

   "Wrong answer," Yvonne replied and embraced the boy gently.  "I need you
now, Paul more than ever." Paul returned her embrace.

   "I'll be up in a while." Paul took his writing tablet and went to the
kitchen table.  He wrote out instructions on what stocks to invest in if
something happened to him.  A lot of the stocks he listed didn't even exist
yet.  Would they understand?  He also explained when and how to sell the
comic books and how to take care of them.  Paul felt like he was writing
out his last will and testament.  Maybe he was doing just that.  He sealed
the envelope and addressed it to Yvonne.  He'd put it in a safe place where
Yvonne would find it.

   Yvonne was already asleep when Paul came to bed.  He tried not to wake
her.  All he wanted was a decent night's rest.  He didn't get it.  His
spirit counterpart kept warning him in his dreams: "Watch out for my
father! Watch out for my father!"

   At one point Paul woke up and said, "I tried to watch out for your
father but it was too late.  I'm sorry.  He's dead." The spirit of Paul
Griffin groaned in frustration.

   Paul Caldwell was following the old bitch he saw with the little girl
and his bastard son from the day before.  He'd been tailing her through the
streets of Hoboken for the past two hours.  Didn't the hag ever tire?  Paul
was certainly tired.  He'd been right to follow young Paul around.  The
older man watched the trio through a pair of army surplus binoculars.  He
was too far away to hear what was being said but he could tell magic was
being done.  This was the one who was protecting the boy from his own
spell. He'd take care of that witch for sure.

   Paul Caldwell was casting a spell that should have stopped the old
woman's heart but she appeared unaffected.  She must have her own
protective spells he thought.  She turned a corner and Paul hurried to
catch up.  He didn't want to lose sight of her.  As he turned the corner he
came face to face with his quarry.  She was fearless, smirking at him,
mocking his worthless spell.  Paul quailed in fear and then blindly struck
out.

   The blow knocked the ancient woman flat on her back.  She struck her
head on a curbstone and a pool of blood began seep out of her cracked
skull. Paul Caldwell quickly retraced his steps and walked away casually
away.  Apparently no one had witnessed the incident.  Mustn't run thought
Paul.  He was a half block away when he heard screams and shouts.  The man
immediately turned into one of the many saloons that graced the city of
Hoboken.

   The news of the death of the old woman swept through Hoboken like
wildfire.  Although it lay in the shadow of the tall buildings of
Manhattan, Hoboken had a small town atmosphere and everyone was affected by
the misfortune.  Paul Caldwell knew he was in the clear when the assailant
was variously described as tall, short and average as well as white, Negro
and Puerto Rican.

   Paul Griffin didn't hear about Gina's grandmother until the next day at
school.  He knew he was to blame.  He just knew it.  This demon found out
he was being aided by the old woman so she had been targeted as a result.
He didn't see Gina.  There was a rumor she was being withdrawn from school
and sent to relatives back in Italy.  Paul wondered when the next shoe
would drop.

   "There's a phone call for you, Paul."

   "Thanks, Debbie." Paul hoped it was who he thought it was on the line.
"Hello?"

   "Paul?  This is your Grandpa Paul.  Can you meet me at the soda fountain
across the street from the library?  I'm there already."

   "I'll be right there," the boy replied and hung up.  He turned to
Debbie. "I'm going to meet Grandpa Paul."

   "Why?"

   "It's important." He saw the look of distaste on his sister's face and
said, "He's not very likeable, is he."

   "What's to like?" Debbie said.  "Daddy hated him.  Mom's afraid of him
and he scared the heck out of the rest of us including you."

   "If Mom asks, tell her I went to the library."

   "I'm glad you could meet with me, Paul," said the older man.  "I'm
afraid I didn't come across very well with your mother and sisters."

   "Don't worry about it, Grandpa," said Paul.  "Actually, I'm glad you
called.  I have something for you."

   "Oh?  What is it?  It looks like a necklace."

   "It's an amulet.  It can protect you from things like curses and spells,
you know, like from Mr.  Singh."

   "And you think it works?"

   "I'm not sure," said the boy.  "Look, I know I'm sounding strange but
I'm trying to protect my family, especially after what happened to my dad.
If he'd been wearing this he might have been protected.  I'm wearing one
myself." He pulled away his shirt collar to display his own amulet.

   "Are you wearing any other protection from spells?"

   "No," Paul replied.  "That's it."

   "Thanks," said the older man.  "That's all I wanted to know."



   ------

   Chapter 20

   "What do you mean by that, Grandpa?" asked Paul.

   "Well, you want me to be as well protected as you and the rest of the
family, right?"

   "Of course I do."

   "That's why I asked if you had any other protection.  Now I feel safe."

   "I'm not exactly sure if it really works, Grandpa, but I really do feel
better wearing it.  I'm glad you're taking me seriously."

   "You bet I'm taking you seriously," declared the older man.  "I know
what Mr.  Singh can do and you shouldn't rule him out as the bad guy in
what happened to your dad.  You should ask whoever you got it from if you
can get something more powerful.  I'll give you the money for it."

   "I'm afraid I can't do that," the young boy said sadly.  "The lady I got
this stuff from had an accident."

   "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.  Is she going to be all right?"

   "She died."

   "Oh," the elder man said.  He felt relieved.  His little bastard son
didn't have any more defenses other than the amulet he wore.  The old hag
he'd killed had been his only source of magical protection.  It would be a
simple matter to stun him, rip the amulet off the boy's neck and then carry
out the exchange spell.  The older man was tempted to do just that but they
were in a public place and he didn't want to incite the boy's suspicions by
asking him to take a walk with his dear grandfather to someplace quiet and
deserted.  He would have to be patient; a day or two at most.

   Paul Griffin began to feel better about things on his walk home from
visiting his grandfather.  Everyone he cared about was wearing their
amulets.  The family's financial position was precarious but Paul felt
things would soon work themselves out with Peter's life insurance and
Paul's accident settlement.  He still felt bad about Gina's grandmother but
the young boy couldn't have foreseen the consequences of asking for the old
lady's assistance.

   Of course, there were unresolved issues also.  One of them was his
mother's continued resistance to her son sleeping with his sisters.  Paul
didn't want to stop even with all the possible consequences plain to see.
The other issue was Gina.  She was being sent to Italy and Paul was sure
he'd never see the girl again if she left but how could he prevent her
going?  Paul had definite feelings for Gina that he hadn't felt with his
mother and sisters.  Was it romantic love?  He wasn't sure.  They were
feelings he never experienced with his wife from his existence as Philip
Grady either.  All he knew was that he didn't want to lose her.  She wasn't
attending school anymore and Paul didn't know when she was scheduled to
sail to Italy.  Carol might know where Gina lived or at least she'd know
someone who did.

   "Did you have fun at the library?" Debbie said as she greeted him at the
door.

   "It was very productive, thank you," Paul responded and took his oldest
sister in his arms and kissed her.  The kiss was meant to be casual but
turned more passionate as the couple lingered by the door.

   "Paul and Debbie!" The pair turned to see their mother glaring at them.
Here we go again thought Paul.  "Isn't it enough that I'm pregnant and
Carol almost certainly is?"

   "We weren't fucking, Mom.  Debbie can't get pregnant just from kissing."
Debbie gasped and then giggled.

   "Go to your room, Debbie," her mother ordered.  Debbie looked at her
brother as if seeking confirmation.

   "Don't look at your brother," Yvonne snapped.  "I'm the one who's giving
the orders.

   Paul looked directly at his mother and said, "Go get the others,
Debbie," he said.  "We're going to have a family conference."

   "What's this all about?" Yvonne fumed.  She was furious because Debbie
had rushed off to obey her brother's orders but had ignored hers.

   "You'll see soon enough," Paul responded.  He waited until everyone was
gathered in the living room.  When he saw they were paying attention he
said, "We're going to discuss some new rules we're going to be living under
in this house."

   "What rules, Paul?" said Yvonne.  "I make the rules in this house."

   "Listen and you'll find out, Mom," Paul responded.  "I've decided we
have to be open with each other about my sleeping with you and my sisters."
He heard gasps from everyone and even a couple of stifled giggles from Ann
and Elizabeth.  Debbie wore a big smirk on her face.  The only ones
remaining serious were Yvonne and Carol.

   "Paul, I'd like to talk to you alone."

   "Not until I finish, Mom.  From now on I don't want you trying to
interfere with my relationships with the girls.  I'm tired of sneaking
around."

   "Paul Griffin, I've heard about enough--"

   "I intend to keep sleeping with whoever I like and you're going to put
up with it."

   "I wouldn't mind," said Elizabeth.

   "Hush your mouth, young lady!  Paul, to my room...  please!" The eleven
year old nodded and followed his mother up the stairs and into her bedroom.
When she closed the door she said, "Tell me that name you told me to
remember."

   "You mean Philip Grady?" Paul chuckled.  "I'm not surprised you asked me
for that name.  I know you must be thinking I'm crazy."

   "It's more than crazy, Paul.  It...  it's sick." The distraught young
mother shook her head in confusion.  "I'm scared.  You're using big words
that I've never heard you use before.  You're demanding things of us that
are just plain wrong.  I truly am beginning to believe that someone or
something evil has possessed you just like you warned about."

   "I'm glad you finally believe me, Mom."

   "I do believe you, Paul darling.  Now you have to fight the control this
curse or whatever it is has on you, this urge you have of using me and your
sisters."

   "I don't want to fight that part of it, Mom.  I want to continue using
you and the others.  You're going to accept it just like the others."

   "I've already accepted you using me.  Please be satisfied with that and
leave your sisters alone.  I'm begging you.  You'll destroy this family if
you continue.  It might already be too late." Yvonne was shedding tears by
then but her son seemed unaffected.  My son is so like my...  our father
thought the distraught woman.  She began to wonder if her son had inherited
some sort of madness from their sire.  "You can't really expect me to sit
quietly while you treat your sisters like harem girls, do you?  Surely not
from their brother, my own son."

   Paul's libido liked the idea of his mother and sisters as harem girls
but he wanted something more.  "I don't want you to think of me as your son
any more, Yvonne.  You and the girls are to think of me now as...  your
husband.  You, Debbie, Carol, Elizabeth and Ann are now my loving and
obedient wives."

   "That's impossible.  You have no right."

   Paul smiled and pulled his eight inch prick out of the fly of his jeans.
It was stiff and dripping with precum.  "This gives me the right."

   Yvonne backed from her son with undisguised horror.  "If this how it's
going to be, I don't want to have anything to do with you, Paul.  You've
become a monster in my eyes." Even as she spoke the words the poor woman
could feel herself lubricating in anticipation of receiving the boy's
formidable prick.  Yvonne didn't resist when Paul embraced her.  In fact,
she endeavored to remain unresponsive even when the boy pulled down her
panties and pushed her back on the bed.  Yet, when Paul mounted his mother
and slowly thrust inside her she couldn't resist a sigh of need.  Yvonne
submissively spread her legs further to accommodate the eleven year old
rapist.  Yes, that's how she had to see him now yet...  "Oh my god!  No,
Paul!  Please!" Paul had pulled his prick out and left her hanging.  He
stood there smirking at his unfortunate mother.

   "What?" said Paul.  "You just said you didn't want to have anything to
do with me.  Are you missing it already?"

   "Don't leave me like this, Paul," pleaded Yvonne.  "Finish me!" She was
sobbing now.  "I won't try to interfere anymore with whatever you do with
your sisters...  your wives.  I'll be your obedient wife too."

   "Until death do we part?"

   "Until death we do part," Yvonne declared.  Paul mounted his mother/wife
once again and he wasn't gentle this time.  The young boy had consolidated
his power in the household and he was out to show it.  Paul knew his
so-called "marriage" wasn't bound to last long if the person or demon
stalking him finally killed him but even that didn't bother him at the
moment.  He fucked Yvonne through three orgasms before he squirted his own
load inside the already pregnant body.  That was a waste of sperm he
thought as he pulled out of Yvonne.  I should have saved it for Debbie.  In
fact...

   "Get cleaned up and send Debbie up to me," ordered Paul.  Yvonne merely
nodded and carried out her ablutions.  She could guess what Debbie was
needed for.  Her oldest daughter wasn't yet pregnant.

   "You sent for me?" Debbie was surprised when her mother said that Paul
wanted her upstairs and in the master bedroom.  She was even more surprised
when she opened the door and found her brother on the bed naked and
stroking his prick.  She sure wanted to know what had gone on between her
brother and her mother but that would have to wait.

   "Get your clothes off and join me," Paul said.  Debbie briefly looked
toward the door before complying with his wish.  She crawled onto the bed
and into his arms busily kissing and cuddling him.

   "Is this our new bedroom?" The question took Paul by surprise.  It was
the master bedroom so he might take it over but he'd have to decide what to
do with Yvonne.  His present bedroom would probably have to be used as a
nursery.

   "Whoever's invited into my bedroom will be decided on a day-to-day
basis. If I were you I wouldn't be planning any moves yet." Debbie just
shrugged her shoulders and started playing with his prick as if saying it
was worth a try.  Paul continued to allow Debbie to massage his prick. 
When it was hard once again he'd fuck his sister and try to start a baby
growing inside her.  Paul knew it was suicidal behavior but he was as
addicted to sex as another addict was to his drugs.  Later that evening at
bedtime Paul returned to the master bedroom in full view of the others and
without comment or protest from Yvonne.  There was no longer any need for
Paul to sneak around from bed to bed.  Paul moved his clothes and
belongings into the master bedroom that evening.  Peter's clothes and other
belongings had all been packed in cardboard boxes.  Some of it had been
stored but most of it had been given to charity so there was plenty of
room. His old bedroom would most likely be used as a nursery.

   Paul didn't go to school the next morning.  He was anxious to see and
talk to Gina.  Carol had never visited Gina.  However she knew which street
her former classmate lived on but not the exact address.  Paul didn't think
he'd have any trouble finding the right house.  He just looked for the same
symbol that hung on his own front door; the black wreath of mourning.

   Paul hung around outside for over an hour watching mourners enter and
exit the house.  He was tempted to knock on the door and offer his
condolences but then he finally saw Gina come out.  She spotted him right
away and quickly shook her head.  The young girl looked frightened.  Paul
pointed toward the back of the house and started walking that way.  Gina
shook her head once more but Paul wasn't going to be put off.  He'd wait
out there all day if he had to.  She finally knew he was waiting for her
and Paul was sure Gina would find a way to meet him.  About ten minutes
later Paul saw Gina dart down some steps toward a basement entrance and he
followed.

   "Why did you come?" Gina whispered.  "You shouldn't have come."

   "I had to come," Paul whispered back.  "When I heard you might be sent
to Italy I had to talk to you.  Gina, I'm so sorry about your grandmother.
I-I'm sure she was murdered because she tried to help me."

   "I know."

   "You do?"

   "I have some of the same gifts that my grandmother had...  but they
won't be fully developed until I'm much older," Gina explained.  "When I'm
able I'll avenge my grandmother's murder, even if I have to study the dark
arts to do it." The young girl stifled a sob.

   "He's pretty strong," said Paul.  The eleven-year-old was getting
worried for his friend.  He didn't want Gina hurt or killed just like her
grandmother.

   "He was weak," Gina sneered.  "He tried to use magic to kill my
grandmother but it was too weak for her protective spells.  He had to kill
her with a blow to the head to beat her.  I'm sorry I can't help you defeat
him, Paul."

   "I didn't come to ask for your help.  I came to say...  I love you."
Gina's face visibly darkened.  Paul couldn't tell if she was angry or
embarrassed or both.  Certainly Paul felt embarrassed.  He could feel his
own face heat up.  The young girl started to say something but then a
woman's voice was calling out her name.  Gina called back something in
Italian.

   "I have to go, Paul.  Keep wearing the amulet.  It's true about me being
sent to Italy to stay with relatives but my grandmother's death has delayed
things.  I don't know if I'll ever see you again but you mustn't come here
again." Gina started up the steps.  She stopped, turned around and then
kissed him on the cheek.

   Paul waited a few minutes after Gina left to sneak back to the street.
He felt good that he'd been able to see and talk to Gina if only for a
minute.  He was glad she didn't reject him when he declared his love for
her.  God!  How stupid could he be?  An eleven-year-old didn't do things
like that, did they?  He'd never given girls much thought when he was that
age as Philip Grady so he didn't have that experience to go on.  Well, then
there was that kiss she gave him.  Somehow it felt as neat as the full
blown sex he'd been having lately.  Could Gina have been saying she loved
him too?  That thought only depressed Paul.  Gina was being sent to Italy
and he'd probably never see her again.  Well, what would it matter if this
unknown demon killed him?  The fingered the amulet at his neck and walked
home.

   "Is there anything the matter, Paul?  Would you like some lunch?" The
boy had been sitting quietly on the sofa for over an hour since he returned
home.

   "I'm not hungry, Mom," said Paul.  Yvonne smiled faintly.  She'd
resigned herself to Paul not calling her Mom anymore and she was glad when
he slipped up.  The attractive mother sat down beside her son.

   "I've known you too long to believe that," Yvonne replied.  Of course,
she's wrong thought Paul but there wasn't any way to tell her that the time
they'd known each other was only a short while.  Her real son, or at least
his spirit, was in another plane of existence.  Paul gave the woman a big
hug and she returned it.  He had a feeling that whoever was going to make
another move on him.  He couldn't know when but in the meantime he felt
safe in his mother's arms.

   Paul Caldwell wasn't going to allow his bastard son much of a future at
all.  In fact it wasn't going to last beyond that very evening.  It was
time to finish the job.  The older man had the key to virtual immortality
and it was time to use it.  Enough time had already been wasted.  He
slipped a dime into the coin slot and dialed his daughter's house.

   "The phone's for you, Paul," whispered Debbie.  "It sounds like Grandpa
Caldwell.  He says it's important."

   "Thanks," Paul replied and ran to the phone.  "Hello?"

   "This is your Grandpa, Paul," said the older man.  "I have to see you
right away."

   "What's up?"

   "I have a lead on the man who killed your father."

   "Who is it?  Tell me!" Paul demanded.

   "I-I can't tell you over the phone.  I have to tell you in person."

   "Where?  When?"

   "Tonight.  Right now." The meeting place was to be by the river.  The
young boy had no way of knowing the area was always quiet and deserted at
night, the perfect place for Paul Caldwell to carry out his plan.  He
rushed out the door to meet the man who intended to snatch away his life.

   Paul Caldwell stood near the bank of the Hudson River and watched the
cold, dark murky water flow past.  Soon he'd be pushing his old body into
the river using his new body, the young healthy body his bastard son
resided in.  Paul Caldwell would be dead.  He'd be Paul Griffin after
tonight, in a very few minutes as a matter of fact.  He was sure young Paul
was running the whole way.  The middle-aged man only worried about the boy
crossing the street.  He seemed to have bad luck with cars.  After the body
exchange was complete he'd go straight to his daughter's house and start
fucking the shit out of her.  Then he'd do the same to his granddaughters.
"Oh shit!" the man cried out has a huge pain began to grip his chest.  This
wasn't supposed to happen yet.  There was supposed to be time.  "It isn't
fair," he cried and collapsed in the dirt.

   "Grandpa!" Paul cried as he saw the older man fall to the ground.  "Are
you all right?" The boy cursed himself for asking such a stupid question.
Of course he wasn't all right.  Was it that unknown bastard using magic
again?  Paul knelt by the prone figure.  He still appeared to be conscious
and breathing.

   "My heart," Paul Caldwell whispered and tried to reach out for the boy's
amulet.  He was too weak.

   "I'll get help," the eleven-year-old promised and ran off into the
darkness.  He remembered a pay phone not far away.  He'd dial 9-1-1 and get
the paramedics.  "Stupid!" he shouted aloud.  The 9-1-1 emergency system
was still decades away and he didn't have a dime for the operator.

   "It isn't nice to call someone stupid, young man," said a voice in the
shadows causing Paul to jump in fright.  The man walked closer.  It was the
cop that his dad knew.

   "I wasn't...  I mean...  my grandpa!  He's having a heart attack!"

   ------

   "Your father's condition has been stabilized, Mrs.  Griffin," said the
doctor.  "He had a close call."

   "Thank you, doctor," said Yvonne.  She almost fainted when the hospital
called.  The natural was thought that her son had been injured again.  She
was relieved to know he was all right but had been with her father...  her
son's father too.  Even with all her father had done to her Yvonne felt
concern for his health.  She didn't know about his heart condition until
this very moment.  Yvonne intended to have a long talk with her son once
things calmed down.

   "He should be resting," the doctor continued, "but he seems very
agitated and refuses to cooperate with the staff."

   "I guess I could try and talk to him," Yvonne offered even though that
was last thing she wanted to do.

   "He insists on talking with his grandson."

   "That's me," said Paul.  He was standing by his mother listening to the
conversation.  "What are we waiting for?"

   "I...  I don't know," Yvonne stammered.  She felt a sudden foreboding.
The young mother had no idea what could go wrong but she had an urgent
desire to leave even if she had to drag her son away.  Besides, the girls
were home alone and she worried about them too.

   "I don't see anything wrong with him talking to his grandfather for a
little while if it helps calm your father down," the physician argued.

   "I want to see Grandpa.  I want to talk to him," Paul said flatly.

   "If it will help your grandfather get some rest then I suppose it's all
right," said Yvonne, "but I want to be there with you." Paul nodded in
agreement.  He didn't see anything wrong with Yvonne being there also.

   "We've given him a private room so you won't be disturbed," said the
physician.  He directed a nurse to lead them to the older man's room.

   "Hi, Grandpa," said Paul when walked into the hospital room.  "How did
you rate a private room?" he added with a smile.  The older man didn't look
well at all.

   "It's costing me a bundle," Paul Caldwell replied with a smile of his
own, "but I won't be here long." His smile quickly faded when he saw his
daughter follow the boy inside.  "I'd like to be alone with Paul for a
while, Yvonne.  You know; a man-to-man talk."

   "No," said Yvonne.

   "What do you mean by that?" her father asked.  He could feel getting
tense.  Must relax he told himself.  He didn't want to have another
seizure. It might be his last.

   "I mean I'll just stand here and you two can have your man-to-man talk,"
Yvonne replied.  "I promise I won't listen."

   "I don't see anything wrong with talking with Grandpa alone for a few
minutes, Mom," said the boy.  "I mean, what's the big deal?"

   "I'm not the one making a big deal out of anything," Yvonne insisted. 
"I just want to be here when you two talk.  If you don't like it we'll just
go ahead and go home." She took Paul's hand to emphasize her determination.

   "I'm not going to let him molest me, Mom," Paul whispered urgently.

   "I just want to stay and that's that," said Yvonne.  She didn't have any
reason to believe he would harm her son either but she just couldn't shake
the uneasy feeling she had.

   "Let's not argue about this.  Stay if you want, Yvonne." Paul Caldwell
did not want to risk the bitch leaving with his ticket to immortality.  It
might be the last chance he had.  He'd deal with her later.  It was time to
get creative.  "Help me sit up you two, okay?" The older man didn't really
need any help to sit up.  He just wanted them to get close enough to... 
there!  Paul and Yvonne didn't have any inkling of danger as they helped
the older man.  He grabbed their shoulders as if to brace himself.  Instead
he grasped the amulets hanging around the pair's necks and yanked as hard
as he could.

   "What the--!" Paul tried to grab at his grandfather's arm but found
himself and Yvonne tossed against a wall as if by a giant invisible hand.
The boy struggled to get up but his grandfather muttered something he
couldn't hear and then lost consciousness.  Yvonne tried to scream but
found her vocal cords paralyzed and unable to move.  Was Paul all right? 
She could see his body out of the corner of her eye but she couldn't turn
her to look at him directly.  Why, she tried to ask her father with her
eyes.

   "I suppose you're wondering what the hell is going on, aren't you?" said
her father.  "Don't worry.  He's all right.  I'm just going to give him a
little gift that'll make him a better man." Paul Caldwell laughed.  "I
don't suppose you believe me.  No, don't try to struggle.  You'll just try
to tire yourself out.  You won't be able to move or call out for a while so
you might as well relax.  Our son will wake up as good as new; in fact
better than new."

   Yvonne didn't believe her father for a moment.  A gift?  What kind of
gift had to be forced on a person?  A sudden realization came to her.  Her
father had to be the one who was trying to harm Paul.  As if to confirm
Yvonne's fear Paul Caldwell began an infernal chant that made her skin
crawl.  This was no gift.  This was a death sentence.  The young mother
began to struggle as best she could but it was like she was securely bound
with ropes.  She began to pray someone would come in and stop her father.
Almost in answer to her prayer Yvonne detected a movement and then a figure
came into view.  Oh my God!  No!  Standing in front of her was Paul but her
son's body was still lying beside her own.  He was dead and this was his
spirit!  Her father had just murdered her son.  The paralysis didn't stop
the tears of grief flowing from her eyes.

   The young mother finally noticed Paul was trying to communicate with her
but she couldn't hear him.  He then started pointing at something; one of
the amulets, one that still intact even though the clasp was broken.  It
wasn't hard to figure out what Paul wanted his mother to do but wasn't it
too late?  Maybe not.  Using inner strength she didn't know she had Yvonne
strained against her magical bindings.  It felt like she was making some
progress but was it her imagination?  How much time did she have?  Two more
figures appeared beside Paul and began nodding encouragement.  It was her
husband Peter and an old woman she didn't know.  Yvonne redoubled her
efforts trying to move her arm alone and grasp the amulet.

   Paul Caldwell noticed Yvonne beginning to move a little quicker than
should have been possible with his spell but he refused to let it break his
concentration.  By the time the bitch was able to move or speak freely the
spell would be done and he'd be in a strong young body and no one would
ever know the difference.  The spell was almost done.  His triumph was at
hand.  He saw Yvonne move as if to protect the young bastard but it
wouldn't do any good.  Paul uttered the last words of the spell and felt
his spirit slip out of his body.

   Paul Griffin woke up and found his mother lying beside him on the floor
of the hospital room.  "Are you all right, Mom?" he asked.  When she nodded
her head he stood up and watched his amulet slide to the floor.  It was all
coming back to him.  His own grandfather had tried to rip the amulet from
his neck and do something to them.  The eleven-year-old didn't know how
long he'd been unconscious but apparently it wasn't too late to stop the
bastard.  "You're going to die," Paul hissed.  His grandfather only smiled
at him.  Well, Paul would soon wipe that smile off his face.  The boy
grabbed at the man's throat and began to squeeze.

   "Philip Grady," the middle-aged man gasped.  Paul Griffin gasped in turn
and backed away from the figure on the bed.  He turned and stared at the
woman still sprawled on the floor.

   "Finish him," she ordered.  Paul Caldwell knew the spell worked but
again something went wrong.  He wasn't in his son's body but his
daughter's. Shit!  Well, if it worked once it'll work again.  It was too
bad about Yvonne.  She'd soon be dead in that worn out body she was in now.
He'd switch with Paul as soon as possible and the young bastard would be
fucked royally by yours truly.  But dammit!  How did the bastard know the
switch was made?

   "What did you do?" Paul asked in an awed manner.  There was a sly
expression on his mother's face now and he just knew it wasn't her.

   "That's what I'd like to know," said a man standing by the open door. 
Paul looked and saw a dark-complexioned man dressed in a western-style suit
and a turban.  It was Mr.  Singh.  It had to be.

   "You...  you know what happened," Paul stammered.  "He exchanged his old
body for my mother's.  H-help her!  Please!"

   "The boy's crazy," the woman responded.  "Get out of here." She looked
frightened now.

   "I think I'd rather believe the boy," said Mr.  Singh.  "I've been
hearing disturbing rumors during my absence in your country and I think
those rumors have just been confirmed.  I'm very disappointed in you, Mr.
Caldwell.  I feel betrayed.  You know what happens to persons who betray
me, don't you?  You were a witness to it some years ago."

   "You're too late," Paul Caldwell said defiantly.  "She'll be dead soon
and if you kill me you'll be tried and executed for murder."

   "You underestimate my abilities, Mr.  Caldwell," Mr.  Singh replied. 
"While I admire your accomplishments during the past decade I shouldn't
have to tell you that I've had much more time to study the manuscript. 
Since it's written in my native tongue I've been able to discover
subtleties and shortcuts..."

   "Help her!" Paul shouted urgently.  Yvonne had begun gasping for breath.

   "Yes, of course," Mr.  Singh said.  "I'm wasting time.  Good-bye, Mr. 
Caldwell." He muttered a short phrase in his native language.

   "No!" screamed the woman and then fainted.  The man on the hospital bed
gasped once more and then ceased breathing.

   "Is she all right?" Paul asked with baited breath.  The turbaned man
smiled grimly.

   "Everything is as it should be, young man."

   Paul bent down and held Yvonne in his arms as she came to.  The woman
smiled once again with tears in her eyes.  "T-tell me that name I told you
to remember," said Paul.

   "Philip Grady," Yvonne replied and then embraced the boy.

   "I almost killed you," Paul whispered.  "Why were you smiling?"

   "Because you were alive when I thought you were dead," said Yvonne. 
"When I saw..."

   "I thought I heard a scream," said a nurse as she bustled into the room.
"Who are you?"

   "I'm an old friend of Mr.  Caldwell," Mr.  Singh replied.  I arrived
just in time to witness dear Paul's untimely death.  The scream you heard
was a cry of grief from his daughter.  As you can see his family is
mourning their loss." The nurse finally took notice of the body on the bed.
She walked over and checked for a heartbeat with her stethoscope.

   "I'll get the doctor," the nurse said and left the room.

   "Thank you," Paul said to Mr.  Singh.  "Can we talk?  In private?  I
have a proposition for you."

   "You're quite welcome," replied the man with a slight bow.  "I will
spare you a few minutes outside if your mother can spare you but I doubt if
anything you might have to offer will be of interest to me unless you know
where your grandfather hid some property of mine."

   "I don't know anything about your property, Mr.  Singh," said Paul when
they were outside, "but I can offer you riches beyond your wildest
imagination if you're willing to work with me."

   The Indian wizard chuckled.  "I think you're wasting my time even with
the few minutes I granted you.  At least you're more entertaining than your
grandfather.  You have one more minute to tell me of your moneymaking
scheme before I bid you good evening, young man."

   Paul took a deep breath and said, "I'm not Paul Griffin.  Paul Griffin
is dead.  It's your magic so don't ask me to explain how that man did it
but as of 31 December 2002 I was a 50-year-old married aerospace engineer
with children and grandchildren.  That's almost 50 years from now.  It's
safe to say I can probably predict the future for that long to our
financial advantage.  I can tell by the way you dress you're rather
prosperous but someone once said or will say something like you can never
have too much money.  If I haven't caught your attention by now I'm
probably to talking to the wrong person and I'll bid you good evening."

   Mr.  Singh looked thoughtful and said, "You have my attention.  We shall
talk again.  I'm not familiar with the term aerospace but I assume it has
something to do with the construction of aircraft.  Am I correct?"

   "You're correct."

   "Then you should have no problem undergoing questioning by an aviation
expert of my own choosing.  I shall be in contact with you shortly." After
a few minutes more conversation Paul left Mr.  Singh and collected his
mother.  She was arranging for the transfer of her father's body to the
funeral home.  There was another family member to bury.  He hadn't been
much of a father but he was still her father.

   Paul slept alone in his own bedroom that night.  At least he thought he
was alone until he woke up and saw someone familiar sitting at the end of
his bed.  "Hi," said the boy.

   "Hi yourself," Paul replied.  "We can communicate now?"

   "Yeah, I guess we can.  Listen; there are some things I think you should
know." Paul's spiritual counterpart explained the real biological
relationship between him and the man he thought was just his grandfather.
He explained what his father/grandfather had been up to and why.  Lastly he
told Paul what was going on in the hospital room while he was unconscious.
"I don't if Mom will ever explain these things to you but I sure wish I
would have known when I was alive.  I would never have gone near that guy."

   "Thanks for telling me," Paul said.  "I guess you saved my life."

   "There's no guessing about it.  You should be grateful."

   "I suppose you want me to stop sleeping with Mom and the girls."

   The ghostly counterpart chuckled.  "Not after you ruined them for anyone
else.  That would be cruel.  Just remember whose body you're using when
you're with them and maybe I won't be so jealous that I died a virgin."

   "I'll remember," Paul promised.

   "By the way, I can talk to Gina's grandma for you.  She kind of likes
you even though she disapproves of what you're doing."

   "How will that help?"

   "She can appear in Gina's mother's dreams and tell her not to send Gina
to Italy.  That family is a great believer in dreams."

   "I'll appreciate it." His spiritual counterpart smiled and winked at him
before fading away.  Before falling back to sleep Paul vowed to live a full
and vibrant life not only for himself but for the young boy who was the
real hero of this story.  Paul never saw him again.

   Extract from the journal of Paul Griffin dated 5 January 2003

   "I just read the obituary of Philip Grady today.  Apparently I suffered
a massive heart attack and died in the early morning of New Years day.  The
funeral is tomorrow.  I'm tempted to lurk nearby if for no other reason
than to see my widow Mary, the children and grandchildren.  It's been 50
years since I last saw them but I'm sure they look the same.  I probably
won't (sigh).

   "I didn't exactly leave Mary in a financial lurch when I died but I
certainly could have done better (I always thought there was plenty of
time).  Within the next couple of weeks Mary will be told of a long
forgotten investment started by her late husband that's done very well.  It
will not only make her comfortable but several present and future
generations of the Grady family as well.

   "With the money Mr.  Singh (I still don't know his given name) gave me I
was able to move Mom and the girls to a quiet part of the country where
they could have their babies and we could maintain our privacy.  Gina
became my legal wife although I'm still not sure how I lucked out there. 
Maybe it was because of the money and gifts I showered on her and her
family.  It couldn't have hurt.  We've done very well with our investments.
That should be no surprise.

   "Is this all the hallucinations of a dying man lying on a dance floor or
on life support in some hospital?  I guess I won't know until I die... 
again.  Mr.  Singh has offered me another body any time I want but I have
refused.  I'm not afraid of death.  I actually look forward to it.  When I
cross over I hope I'm met by the real Paul Griffin.  I look forward to
saying, 'Hello, old friend.  We lived a good life.'"
   ------ The End ------