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From: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: {EZ}MyInhert23 Proper Lady (MC M+F+ NC)
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The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for
adults in locations in which it is legal. If it is illegal in your
location, DO NOT read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any
other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission
of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a review or
posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sights.
Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter.
Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com
This is a mind control, multi person romance with a planned thirty
plus chapters.
Please! Give me your comments.
MY INHERITANCE
Chapter 23
Proper Lady
Mary shook me, awakening me. She said I had only been out about three
minutes. Mary had cleaned up Cathy, wiping her with a damp cloth. As
she instructed, I carried Cathy into the small third bedroom and put
her to bed. Mary covered her over and closed the door as we left.
When we returned to my bedroom, Andy was changing the sheets. It was
impossible to say if Cathy had lost more water by sweating or pissing.
Whichever, the sheets and bedding were soaked. I sat on the small
stool at the kittens' dressing table as Mary swabbed my wounds with
alcohol to cleanse them. I could see the teeth marks Cathy left on the
thick muscle by my collarbone. Each tooth had cut the skin. Already,
it was angry, blue and sore as hell.
"Ouch."
"Quit being a baby. Of course, it is going to sting some. I wonder if
you need stitches."
"Oh, great. How would I explain that to the doctor? 'Doctor, I was
fucking my sister and I was so good she bit me hard enough to need
stitches.' Think of something else."
Mary stopped working on me, standing back to look in my face. She
looked very worried.
"Davy, something is wrong with Cathy. She is out of control. That
was not normal intercourse. I watched her tonight and I watched you.
She needs your help."
"She is just intense."
"No, Davy. I am intense. Cathy was frantic."
I had thought the same thing. I wondered if Uncle Bert had programmed
her to be this way, or, if there was a conflict between Cathy's nature
and the programming. I wondered if Dad knew and that was the reason he
and Uncle Bert fought over Cathy. I hated to think Uncle Bert had
done something like this to my sister intentionally. Had the devil
dog bit him? Was that the reason he was putting me through so much
before I got the formula?
"Are you all right?"
I looked up to see Abby and Betty standing at the door. They were
naked, standing shyly but uncovered. Two peas in a pod. Identical
twins. They looked frightened but then they could see my wounded back
and neck better than I.
"Cathy got carried away."
"We heard her scream. Is everything okay?"
"It will be in the morning. How was Dad?"
They giggled. "Go ahead. Tell him," Betty snickered.
"Well, with the altitude change, the alcohol and trip exhaustion. Dad
took Mom first. Then, well, Dad went to sleep."
Poor Dad. He was not programmed to last forever like I was. Mom got
him before the girls and he was fucked out.
"Davy, we are . . . " Abby blushed. I grinned. "Say it!"
"We are horny. Could you, I mean, would you like to?"
"Ladies, I would love to, but I am whipped. I will have to take a
rain check. Borrow Mary's vibrator collection."
Did I just turn down fucking two beautiful and sexy young women? I
must be more tired than I realized. I barely made it to bed before I
was asleep.
I was on my back when I awakened. Andy was kneeling over me, treating
the wound on my shoulder.
"Hi, sweetheart. Ready for coffee?"
"Oh, yes. What time is it?"
"Christmas Eve, about ten in the morning. I'll be right back." She
kissed me lightly before bouncing off to bring me that life giving
black liquid. Soon, I was propped up in the big bed. Mary and Andy
were on each side of me.
"Cathy is still asleep. Your parents feel great and went for a walk
through town. Abby and Betty are moving slowly and walking stiffly,"
Mary said, bringing me up to speed.
"I heard them all night. They must have come a million times," Andy
said. She was not complaining, just reporting the events. She did
not even see those events as unusual.
"How is Cathy?"
"I check her ever hour or so. She is dead to the world, but she seems
all right. Come into the kitchen. I will cook something for you."
"I will do it, Mom," Andy said, jumping up to get started.
I sipped coffee as Andy whipped up a little breakfast. Since it was
close to noon, I only had three eggs, six slices of bacon and two
pieces of toast with a quart of milk to wash them down. Andy was
becoming quite a good cook. She hummed to herself as she efficiently
moved about the kitchen. I liked those movements.
Normally when we were at home, Andy wore what I keep calling ski
skins. That is a trade name for a form fitting, two-ply garment which
provides excellent insulation and can be worn under heavier clothes
for insulation or as outerwear. "Form fitting" was the key phrase in
that sentence. I have commented on her body before, but a body like
that cannot have too many comments in my view.
Some women are soft, some overly muscular, particularly the natives in
the mountains where skiing and hiking are dominant pastimes. Andy was
a perfect combination, with a softness where she should have it and
muscles where they should be. The muscles moved under the tight ski
skin as she worked, providing a delightful picture for me.
She put the food in front of me and sat by me, hand on my leg, looking
at me with total love. I do not know what I did to be so lucky, but I
would do it again in a minute. We talked about little things, as two
lovers would, as I wolfed down my meal, eating in less time than it
took to prepare it. I watched her again as she cleaned up the
kitchen.
"I want the hot tub. My muscles are sore," I said.
"Come on, sweetheart. I will join you."
Uncle Bert's houses had several commonalities. Each had a
well-equipped kitchen complete with freezer. They had huge master
bedrooms with giant beds, a multi person shower in the bath and video
equipment so you could watch from (or film in) bed. They had big
living rooms with giant fireplaces. The fireplaces had sheepskins
rugs and mink comforters in front of them. They had big hot tubs with
gas powered, high intensity heaters.
I stripped and jumped in the hot tub. Andy was right behind me. She
sat behind me at first, massaging my neck and back, being careful not
to rub those places injured by Cathy. I had seen my back in a mirror.
I was covered with cuts and bruises as if I had been in a car wreck.
I leaned back against her as she wrapped her arms over my shoulders,
kissing me a hundred times, interspersing the kisses with sweet
murmurings on my ear. We sat like that for a while. When we had
enough of the heat and pulsating water, she kissed me softly on the
cheek and walked up the two steps.
I was standing in the water and she was toweling off on the side when
I said it. I did not plan to say it. It just came out.
"I love you."
I can still see her standing there. She froze with her hands under her
chin, the towel dangling to cover her suggestively. Her blue eyes were
big and wide, with a surprised look. Her mouth was open in the form of
an O. Her long blonde hair was wet and clung to her naked body. Tears
formed in her eyes.
"What did you say?" She gasped it out.
"I love you."
She shrieked as if she were shot, threw the towel aside and launched
herself into me, knocking me on my back under the water. I felt her
lips crush mine as her body weight forced me under. Normally, a
beautiful woman showing her love for you is a wonderful thing.
Normally. I was drowning.
The hot tub was slick from the musk-scent oil I put in it and I could
not get traction to get my head up. I felt a hand grab me by the
neck, pulling me up as the person pushed Andy off me. It was Mary.
She had come running when she heard Andy's shriek, saw what was
happening and jumped in to rescue me. I gagged and sputtered, gasping,
trying to get my breath.
"Andy, you need to listen to your mother. I told you to fuck him to
death, not drown him."
"Oh, Mom, he told me he loves me." Then, she realized she had almost
killed me and was desolate with sorrow, crying as she fluttered around
me. Mary patted her lovingly.
"I know he does, honey, but he cannot love you if he is dead. Now, why
don't you take him in the bedroom."
The two of them helped me out of the hot tub and dried me off, which
is no bad deal. Andy took my hand to lead me into the bedroom.
"Davy?" Mary called to me. "Have you ever said 'quiet, little lady' to
her?"
"No. Why?"
"Try it." She had a funny smile on her face.
As you remember, Andy was a screamer, yelling obscenities at the top
of her voice when she was having sex. Uncle Bert had programmed her
three ways: to mew and purr like a kitten; to coo like a dove; or, to
speak in lady like tones. I enjoyed her purring so much, I rarely had
her coo and never used the lady like tones. Since I had to program her
each time we fucked, I would try lady like this time.
"Would you feel better on top or would you like me to do that?" Andy
asked sweetly.
"You get on top this time."
Andy was always passionate, her desire for me strong, but she never
rushed unless she knew that is what I wanted. She touched and
tantalized every inch of me with every inch of her, particularly her
fingertips, nipples and hairless pussy. I was hard and ready when she
finally eased me into her hot wetness. I put my hands on her waist,
resting the palms on her hips.
"Quiet, little lady," I whispered.
She smiled down at me, then spoke in round, perfect tones in a voice
identical to Helena Bonham Carter.
"Oh, David, I find your penis in me to be so stimulating."
"What did you say?" I could not believe my ears.
"Your penis is stimulating, David. Is there something wrong with
that?"
"When did you start to talk like that?" Our motion had stopped. I was
too surprised to fuck.
"Talk like what, David? All proper English ladies speak this way. Is
that not what you wished? To have intercourse with a proper lady. I
must say, David, would you kindly determine what it is you wish to
do."
"Yes. Fuck a lady sounds great."
"Ladies never use that word, David. I do wish you would speak more
properly when we make love. Should I carry on, then?"
"Carry on. Please."
"Of course. I would be delighted."
She started to move again on my cock. I heard a giggle in the
doorway. Mary was strangling a laugh.
To be continued . . .
Please! Give me your comments.
Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com
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