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Subject: {EZ}MyInhert50 Bert's Last Message (MC)
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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 sites.

   Copyright 1998 by E.  Z.  Riter.

   Please!  Give me your comments.

   E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

   This is a mind control, multi person romance with a planned fifty plus
chapters.

   MY INHERITANCE

   Chapter 50

   Bert's Last Message

   "I have a message from Bert.  Andy is to hear it with you," Mary said
quietly in the unique voice of a trance, as she knelt in front of me.  Andy
sat down by me, but Lisa, who had never been present when a trance message
was given, started to leave.  I pulled her down by me, telling her to stay
with us because she was very much a part of this family.  She hugged me
gratefully as she curled up against me.

   In a moment, Mary began.

   "Hello, son.  It is me again.  I knew you would get this message one
day, but I had no idea of the timing.  The only way it could be accessed is
if either Mary or Andy or both were pregnant.  You lucky guy!  Remember
what I said about telling my grandchildren about me.

   Davy, Mary has a secret, a secret only she and I knew.  Because it made
her very distraught, I programmed her not to remember it.  When I began
making plans to give her to you, I decided to reveal the secret.  You will
have to handle it, but it is better handled than left buried.  Sorry.  It
is not something I could correct in my lifetime.

   Approximately ten seconds after this message is over, Mary will remember
everything.  Be prepared, Davy.

   Kiss the kittens on their sweet little pussies for me, son.  I love all
of you very much.  Goodbye again."

   Mary was quiet and still as I counted off the seconds.  None of us moved
for what seemed an eternity.  Her eyes opened, but they did not see us. 
She burst into tears as her hands flew to her face.

   "Oh, my God!  My baby!  My baby!" she screamed.

   Repeating "my baby, my baby," she sobbed and rocked back and forth, arms
around her middle, tears flowing in rivers.  She was hysterical.

   It frightened me.  It frightened all of us.  I had never seen Mary like
this, out of control, her agony so severe it wrenched out her heart with
every breath she took.  When she realized Andy was beside her, she wrapped
her arms around her tightly, digging her nails in.  Andy was gasping for
breath she was being held so tightly, her own face showing her fear and
distress at her mother's desolation.

   "Oh, God!  My baby, my baby!"

   She ignored any attempt to placate her.  Immediately, I thought of
programming her to stop, but something told me to let her cry out whatever
demon was in her.  I had no idea it would be almost twenty minutes of gut
wrenching sorrow before she began to calm down.

   Have you ever seen a loved one with a devastating loss, an inconsolable
sorrow?  Remember how it hurts you to see them hurt so much?  We were like
that for Mary.

   I thought her sorrow must be about Andy and the baby, my baby Andy was
carrying.  All sorts of horrible thoughts crossed my mind: diseases,
genetic abnormalities, any thing you could imagine being wrong.

   Mary was spent, but her body was still wracked by sobs, when she finally
released Andy and sat back, wobbling she was so exhausted.  We all three
had been crying with her.  She was in such pain, seeing her was painful for
us.  Andy and Lisa had both been near hysteria themselves, but as Mary
began to quieten, so did they.

   "Why didn't you program me not to hurt?" she said accusingly, her eyes
red and swollen as she stared at me.

   "You needed to cry it out."

   "Please, promise me you will program me to make the pain go away," she
pleaded.

   "If you want that, I will do it," I said, holding her for comfort. 
"But, what is it?"

   "Could I have some tea, please?" was her response.

   Resisting the urge to order her to tell me, I sent Lisa to make herbal
tea.  The tea helped sooth all of us, but I could stand it no longer.

   "Is something wrong with Andy's baby?  My baby?"

   "Oh, no!  It is nothing like that.  Oh, God."

   Sobbing, she pulled Andy back into her arms which made Andy and Lisa
start crying again.

   "Mary!  Calm yourself and talk to us!  Tell us what is wrong!"

   She nodded and took a series of deep breaths.  Then, she began.

   "Andy, I told you your father was abusive.  He was a cruel man, a very
cruel man.  When I became pregnant by him, he told me he was going to take
you away from me and I would never see you again.  He had abused me
mentally and physically, so when he threatened me legally, I was very
afraid of him."

   "Mother, I would never let that happen."

   "Honey, you were a fetus.  You were not going to prevent anything.  Oh,
Andy, you do not know what it is like to be with a cruel man.  It is
absolute hell for a woman.  You have only known Bert and Davy, both of whom
are wonderful, dear, men.  That is the reason Matt frightened me so much.
He was cruel, like your father."

   Mary sipped at her tea, still restoring herself to equanimity.  The rest
of us were speechless.

   "Then, we found out something which changed everything.  I was pregnant
with twins.  Twins, Andy.  I made an agreement with your father when we
determined both the babies were girls.  I would keep the first born, name
her Andrea and give her my surname.  That is you.  Andrea Mathews.  He
would take the second born and name her Angela.  He would give her his
surname.  Anderson.  Angela Anderson.  She is your twin sister, borne
eleven minutes after you."

   The room was deathly quiet, our collective breathing the only sound.  We
all were in shock!

   Andy had a twin sister, a sister none of us knew about until that
moment. My mind was reeling.

   "I don't understand," Andy said mechanically.  "Do you mean that you
gave birth to two babies and I am one of them?"

   "Yes, honey.  I gave birth to twins.  You are one.  Angela Anderson is
the other."

   "Go ahead!  Finish the story," I said.

   Andy looked at me with disbelief, not comprehending what she had heard.

   "Part of our arrangement was neither of us would ever try to contact the
other's child.  He has kept that bargain and so have I.  I never saw her. I
do not know if she is an identical or a fraternal twin.  I do not even know
if she is alive."

   Mary started to cry again and I held her to me.

   "Oh, Davy, Bert saw how much I was hurting.  He offered to find her and
bring her to me.  He said he would program Donald to be a eunuch missionary
in deepest Africa so he could not harm us, but I was still afraid.  I was
so terrified I would not let Bert help me.  So, he programmed me not to
remember."

   "Donald is my father?" Andy asked, still in shock over the news.

   "Yes, Andy.  Donald Anderson.  He was from Chicago.  All I know about
his family is he had an older sister who was married to a lawyer.  Her name
was Patricia."

   "You mean besides a father and sister, I have cousins?"

   "You might.  Oh, Andy, let's not get our hopes up!  I could not stand
another disappointment like that.  We don't even know if Angela is alive.
If she is alive, she might not want to see us."

   Andy pounced on me with an intensity which equaled her mother's hysteria
of minutes ago.  She grabbed my shoulders and shook me as she spoke.

   "Find her!  Find her now, Davy!  You must do it!"

   "I will, sweetheart.  I will."

   "No.  I mean now!  Get up and do it now!"

   "Andy.  Settle down."

   "Damn you!  Now!" she screamed as she hit my chest with her fist.

   While, as you know, I love Andy with all my heart and would do anything
for her, I had enough female hysteria for the moment.  Her hysteria was not
helping address the problem, in any event.

   "Kitten Andy.  Programming adjustment.  You will be calm about your
sister.  You will not worry about finding her, trusting me to handle the
situation.  Kitten Andy.  Programming terminated."

   Andy wobbled and fell against me, wrapping her arms around me for
support.  I held her until she pushed back to look up at me.

   "It is wonderful you will handle this for us so I don't have to worry
about it.  Thank you, Davy.  I know you will do what is right."

   It was said sweetly and lovingly.  There was not an ounce of tension or
anxiety in her voice or body.  She brought her lips to mine in a gentle
kiss.

   "Program me the same way, please, Davy," Mary said softly.

   "Me, too," Lisa added.

   One of the disadvantages of being the tom cat instead of the kitten is
no one programmed me to relax while someone else worried about it.  Once
again, I silently thanked Uncle Bert for having Andy program me to think
deeply, clearly and calmly which she did that first day I met her.

   After programming Mary and Lisa, I took some deep breaths and
concentrated on the problem.  By dinner, my attorney in Denver had located
a private investigator in Chicago.  When I talked to him, I offered double
his regular rate and he started immediately.

   Our whole world had changed.

   Suddenly, there was a new woman in our lives.  This would not be a
kitten I could fuck and forget, not unless I reprogrammed Mary, Andy and
Lisa to forget what they had only just learned.  While the idea of another
Andy was tremendously appealing, another kitten in the household did change
our relational equilibrium.

   I lay awake in bed that night, Andy to my left, Mary to my right, with
Lisa to her right.  I felt Andy's hand steal across my chest.

   "I can't sleep," she whispered.

   "Me either.  Let's get up."

   As we tried to slip out of bed, Mary and Lisa announced they were still
awake.  Soon, all four of us were in the living room with a large bowl of
popcorn between us, talking about what was happening.

   The programming to be calm and let me worry about finding Angela, the
natural sweet happiness of my kittens, the knowledge a detective was at
work, and the passage of some time, had restored us all to the positive
well being we normally enjoyed.

   Once again, we laughed together.  By now you know, the laughter we
shared is as important, or more important, than the sex we shared. 
Laughter is the music of love.

   Of course, as always, Andy was an imp.

   "You know, sweetheart.  I am a twin.  You have twin sisters.  I could be
carrying twins right now and we would not know it yet," Andy said, stuffing
popcorn in her mouth.  "And, Mom gave birth to twins, so when she gets
pregnant, they could be another set of twins.  Then, if Angela gets
pregnant by you, well.  Think, Davy.  Three sets of twins at one time. 
Lisa's baby would make seven, or eight, if she has twins.  Eight newborns.
What about that?"

   Suddenly, I was horrified that all of them were unprotected and liable
to get pregnant.  I never thought about eight babies at once.

   Andy laughed at my expression and patted my cheek with a soft hand
greasy with popcorn butter.



   "I wonder what she is like?" Mary said half to herself.

   We all wondered that and the conversation quickly became speculation
about Angela.

   Think about it!

   Was Angela an identical twin?  Or, a fraternal twin, looking no more
like Andy than any sister born at a separate time?  Was I going to find a
new Andy or someone entirely different?  Was she married or engaged or
what? What would be the differences between Andy and Angie?  What impact
had living with her father had on her?

   The happy mood of the evening was contagious.  Soon, we all were
giggling.  And, when we giggle, we touch.  Then, Andy started talking about
her own pregnancy again.  She bit off the end of the pickle she was eating
and set up, cupping her breasts in her hands and staring down at them.

   "Mom, did your boobs grow when you had me?  I mean, had us?"

   "Yes.  They were gigantic.  You know, Andy, you have to dispose of all
that milk regularly.  One baby probably cannot take it all."

   "Oh, I bet I know someone who will help with that," she said, leering at
me.  She leaned over to dangle a nipple in my face.

   "Want to practice suckling my tits?" she asked, pushing her nipple
against my mouth.

   I wanted to and I did.  She moaned and pushed her breast harder against
me.

   "Mom?  Is he doing it right?" Andy asked breathlessly.

   "What do you mean?"

   "I mean, I am getting horny from this.  Does that happen?"

   "Not with all women.  It did with me.  I wanted to be fucked after most
feedings."

   "I thought maybe the way he was sucking might make me horny but not make
my milk flow."

   "There is a right way and a wrong way to do it.  He would have to suckle
my breast for me to be sure."

   "Well, let him," Andy retorted.

   Mary moved to let her breast dangle over my mouth.  I suckled.  Then,
Lisa wanted to know what it felt like.  So, we ended the evening with me
suckling breasts, "just for practice" as Andy said.  No, we really ended in
the bedroom as we always did, but you guessed that, didn't you?

   I wondered if there was a way to keep one or all of them in milk
forever. I have heard mother's milk is very healthy.

   I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Andy's D-cup breasts twice as big,
with so much heavy and rich milk it oozed from her nipple.  I fantasized
her leaning over me, her huge breast dangling above my face, as I leisurely
sucked.  She was moaning in sexual need as her sweet, hot milk flowed into
me.  Ummm.  Nice fantasy.  I was looking forward to making it a reality.

   It took a week for the PI report to come in.  When he called about nine
in the morning, I immediately called Mary at the store.  She made me
promise not to say anything to the others until she got home.  When she
arrived, the four of us sat at the kitchen table as I gave them the report.

   "Donald Anderson died four years ago.  He was married once.  His wife
died in childbirth leaving him a baby girl to raise ("Bastard," Mary
muttered).  Angela Anderson, his only child ('I am his child', Andy
interrupted) lives with Patricia Anderson Caldwell, Donald's sister, and
George Caldwell, her husband, in Grosse Pointe, Michigan.  George Caldwell
is an attorney.  His wife, Angela's aunt, is Angela's legal guardian. 
Angela has just completed her freshman year at the University of Michigan.
The Caldwells have two natural children, Elizabeth, who is nineteen and
George, Jr., twenty-one.  Both are students at Michigan.  No picture or
description of Angela was given."

   "What now, Davy?" Mary asked.

   "I could not get a charter on such short notice, but I made reservations
on a commercial flight.  Go pack."

   On the way to the plane, I adjusted their programming to allow them to
enjoy the excitement of finding Angela, even if it meant they were harder
to handle.  Is that love, or stupidity, or what?  Whatever it was, it was
greatly appreciated by all three of them.  I never lose when they are
grateful.  Believe me.

   We flew first class, the four of us occupying the first row.  After the
seat belt sign was extinguished, they huddled on one side, gossiping and
giggling.  The three of them chattered like birds all the way there.  I
tried to nap, but, I could hear them.  Does she look like me?  Is her hair
long?  Is she sweet?  Pregnant?  Married?  Smart?  On and on, questions
never ceasing.  By now, they had thought of every possible question about
her, but they liked to discuss them over and over.

   The flight arrived at Wayne County Airport, which serves the greater
Detroit area, about five.  We rented a Cadillac and drove the interstate
past downtown Detroit into The Pointes.  The Caldwells lived in a lovely
home near Lake St.  Claire.  It was six thirty when I rang their bell.

   A tall, distinguished looking man with greying hair answered.  He was
wearing a white shirt, tie and suit pants, indicating he had not changed
since he came home from the office.  His eyes scanned us, stopping when he
came to Andy.

   "What is the matter, Angie?  Forget your key?" he said.

   All three of my kittens gasped at George's misidentification.  His color
paled.  His eyes scanned us again, slower and harder this time, stopping a
long time to study Mary.  Then, he focused on Andy again.

   "You are not Angie, are you?"

   "No, sir.  I am Andy, her twin sister.  May I call you Uncle George?"

   The man looked as shocked as we had been when we first heard the news.
It seemed an hour, but, actually he recovered fairly quickly, and a warm
smile covered his face.

   "Yes, Andy, you can.  You better come in," he said as he opened the
screen door for us.

   He hugged each of the women as they entered, holding on to Andy a long
time, which I presumed was an uncle's love and not because her delicious
body was pressed hard against him.  Excusing himself, he asked us to wait.

   As we stood in the living room, the three kittens were holding hands,
excited and anxious expressions on their faces.  I told myself to be calm.
In a moment, George returned with a tall, thin and elegant woman whom he
introduced as Patty, his wife.  Without speaking, she stared open mouthed
at Andy.  Tears forming in her eyes, she took Andy in her arms and hugged
her.

   For the next hour or so, we talked to George and Patty.  It was clear
they were two kind, decent people who loved Angela and had her best
interests at heart.  They were as surprised to find Angie had a sister and
a mother as we were to find out about Angie.

   "Don told us Angie's mother died giving birth," Patty said during the
conversation.  "Obviously, that is not true."

   "No.  It is not," Mary replied.  She told them of the arrangement to
separate the girls.  And, she told Patty of her brother's cruelty.  Patty
looked very pained.

   "I knew my brother had a mean streak, but I never guessed he would do
something like this.  Mary, I am so sorry."

   Patty was being sincere.  It seemed nature had played a mean trick on
the Anderson children, giving Patty most of the good and Donald most of the
bad.  That happens sometimes.

   Finally, Patty asked.  "What do you want of Angela?"

   "I want her to come live with me, with us, I mean," Mary replied.  "I
want my daughter."

   "Let me ask a question, if I may?" George said, in his best lawyer's
tone.  His face turned a bit red.  "I am not criticizing, you understand.
You are lovely people, but, your life style.  We are conservative
sociologically and I see . . .  "

   None of us helped him out.  We waited for him.

   "I see three very sensual women"

   "George!" Patty interjected.

   "They are, Patty.  I see three very sensual women who live with one man.
Those women have identical necklaces with kittens charms, and rings on
their thumbs.  We only want the best for Angie.  I mean, could you tell us,
well, how she would benefit from being with you?"

   "Look at us!  Don't we look unbelievably happy?  Don't we look healthy
and well loved and cared for?  Don't we appear to be a wonderful,
tight-knit family?"

   "You do, Lisa.  By the way, exactly how do you fit in?"

   "She is my sister," Andy said defiantly, holding Lisa's hand.

   "Your child, Mary?"

   "No.  But, she and Andy are just like sisters.  Lisa will be a sister to
Angie, too."

   "And, you?" George said looking at me.

   "I am not Andy's sister," I replied flippantly.

   He gave me a dirty look.

   "Look!  We have a legal responsibility to Angie.  And, we love her as if
she were our own."

   How was I to answer the question?  I could program them to not worry
about Angie or to forget she even existed.  I was ready to do just that,
but an idea struck me.  Guessing from George's age that he would remember
the communes which were popular a while back, I gave him this answer.

   "We are a commune, except we bathe and cut our hair," I said with a
smile.  I was not sure they were going to like that answer, but George
grinned for a moment before continuing.

   "I remember the communes.  Free sex and all that.  I do not think Angie
would like that kind of arrangement."

   "Oh, we don't have free sex.  Davy is the only man who fucks us," Andy
said with a bounce in her voice.  Then, she blushed and squirmed in her
seat.

   "She probably will not want to go," George continued.  "She is very
happy here.  She has made many friends.  And, never forget, she will be
very shocked, and quite possibly hurt, by the existence of a mother and a
twin sister."

   Andy's face fell.  A tear rolled down her cheek as she pleaded with him.

   "Please, Uncle George!  Let me talk to her!"

   I could see George relent a little.  Andy gave him that sick puppy look
and batted those big, blue eyes at him.  All you men know that look.  And,
all you women use it whenever you think it will help.

   "Uncle George, when can I meet my sister?" she said in a plaintiff tone.

   George lovingly stroked her head.

   "They called this afternoon.  Angie and my son and daughter are driving
in from Mackinaw Island.  They should be here in another hour or so."

   "Can we wait?"

   "Let us talk to her when she gets in.  She needs some time with this,
Andy.  She will be horribly shocked.  Why don't you come back for
breakfast? Say, nine in the morning?"

   George could not be persuaded to let us stay to meet Angie.  I
grudgingly admired how he maintained his resolve in the face of three
pleading and very determined women who used every female trick to break him
down.  I finally had to order the three of them to leave, which they did
with tears and grumbling.  We drove down Jefferson Street and checked into
the Westin Hotel in the Renaissance Center, taking a two-room suite with a
king-sized bed.  We ordered seafood salads with pie for dessert from room
service.

   The four of us talked for hours, letting our excitement run down in the
process.

   Our speculation on what Angela was like had been modified since we now
knew she looked exactly like Andy.  George had mistaken Andy for Angie when
we first arrived.  But, the repetitive speculation continued.

   "The important question," I said, "is whether she will want to go back
to Colorado with us."

   "How much formula do you have with you?" Andy asked.

   "Enough for five people."

   "If we have to program everyone in the family, she is coming home with
us."

   Andy's strident voice and determined jaw faded.  She looked a little
embarrassed as she crawled into my lap and pressed herself against me.

   "Am I being too pushy?"

   "No.  You are not."

   "You know how much I love you.  You know I would walk away now and never
mention her again if you wanted me to, even without you changing my
programming."

   "Yes, Andy.  I know."

   She smiled very lovingly at me.  Her eyes were soft and wet.  Then, she
got that gleam in her eye, the one saying she had the winning hand and
knows it.

   "I know you love me, love the three of us, so much you will make sure
she comes with us whether she wants to or not.  And, I know you will not
program us to forget her."

   "Yes, Andy, my precious kitten.  I love all of you that much."

   She kissed me, softly at first, but with increasing ardor.

   "If you love us that much, why don't you take us to bed and prove it."

   To be continued . . .

   Please!  Give me your comments.

   E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

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