Family Ties

My Dear Readers,

Disclaimer:

What I write is fiction/fantasy/fairy tales for adults. None of my characters are real, no one was injured during the production of my stories and just like on T.V., they all get up when the scene is over, have a beer, remove the makeup and go home, ready to return in the next chapter, all the boo boos healed.

Votes and comments are as always gratefully received. E-mail will get a personnel response if you remember to leave me a return e-mail address.

Enjoy.

Dom Woolf

Chapter nine: September Morning

I am sitting in a cold drafty barn, my butt freezing on the thin layer of straw barely covering the rough hewn boards that make up the floor. At least I'm dressed in a winter coat; the girl hanging from the rafters in a small iron cage is naked except for the dirt, excrement and other filth that covers her shivering body. A portable gas heater is pointed at the cage and is probably heating the bars to an uncomfortable degree, but only on one side, the rest of the cage is open to the cold blasts of air that swirl through the old structure. It is only the first week of September and while the days get into the eighties at night the temperature plummets below fifty. Fall is here and winter is not far behind.

I can't see her face due to the rough hemp bag tied over her head but I can remember her smile and the way her eyes would light up when she was up to some mischief. I remember her tanned and toned body glistening with oil and water as she rose from the pool, wet hair flung back and dripping, a mermaid or the Lady of the Lake. Unlike my younger sister who was the bane of my young existence, Christine was the keeper of secrets, the soft touch when I needed another quarter, the wise one that could help me with my homework or who would spend time watching those dumb monster flicks with me when no one else in the family could stand them.

We would laugh at Benny Hill or be in groused in the adventures of the Highlander and she would be the one to plead with our father to watch the last fifteen minutes promising immediate tooth brushing and bed with no further stalling. Please Dad!

She was the babysitter and the one in charge of us younger siblings and could always make us behave with a joke and laughter rather than fear and intimidation.

She was the one that got me out of a lot of trouble growing up and now she was the one in trouble and I didn't know if I could help. She had been one of a very elite group of women who were entrusted and trained to be the power behind the thrones of some of the worlds most powerful people and she let a momentary lapse of judgment ruin six years investment in her training and forcing the school to not only return her very high contract payment but also make restitution not only in monetary form but in favors owed, which were called in to hush up and mitigate the charges against some very powerful people. Charges that would never have seen the light of day had not my sister screwed up.

The Firm is the group of wealthy families that runs an international organization, some of which is legal and upstanding and upfront business, some of which is not so legal and not so upstanding and some that are down right forbidden and could bring down nations if discovered. They run the Institute that Christine was a graduate from and they use and have an agreement with my Grandfathers farm, part of which is to punish certain employees that have caused problems. It was their way of exacting payment for sins against The Firm.

Someone had to pay and that someone was Christine. My fear was that the cost would be her life. That was a cost I wasn't willing to pay.

I stood up slowly, painfully aware of my stiff muscles and headed for the big house and my father and grandfather. On the way I stopped and issued orders to the two trainers I passed, and then I walked into the house. My mother and sister slave my grand mother were kneeling beside their husbands and masters, neither wore any clothes and it was clear I was going to interrupt a quiet evening of television.

"You two, out." I ordered. They both looked up at their masters but when no orders to the contrary were forthcoming stood and left the room. I closed the door behind them and went over to the remaining chair and sat.

Several minutes of silence passed before I spoke up and they waited patiently. "Her death is unacceptable. Punishment, yes, deservedly so but I refuse to watch her die for something so stupid." I said quietly. "We have several millions in the bank and much more invested in both this farm and our lifestyle. Buying off her contract will be expensive; I understand that. It may severely dent our reserves but we can afford it!"

My father spoke up. "It will damage our standing in the international community and will cost us a lot of future business if we go against the firm."

"I have thought of that and may be able to negotiate a solution that will pacify everyone." I looked at my two mentors and began my pitch. "Here's my plan......"

Several tense days of negotiations followed that long night of discussions and arguments with my seniors, but in the end they had given over the farm to me to run and I was the one who would be responsible for what followed.

They also left it up to me to make the deal with The Firm and the Institute and that was a whole nother type of battle. I returned to the farm bloody by unbowed two weeks later.

After briefing my Grandfather and my Father, I returned to my house and the spare bedroom where my older sister had been cared for and nursed back to some semblance of health.

She lay on the bed, chained by one ankle to a bedpost, still pale and thin but looking much better than the last time I had seen her. I closed the door and pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Christine looked up at me afraid of what I was going to say, afraid that I had come back to pronounce that the firm wanted her tortured to death. I spent several minutes just looking at her scared and thin body.

"You are to remain a slave, the rest of your life. All that you owned or were owed is to be forfeit and used as restitution. You are confined to this farm. Period. You are not allowed to speak to anyone outside the family. Any failure to comply will bring an automatic death sentence and the family will have to pay a fine that will ruin us." I paused. "Or you can choose death. You have 24 hours to decide." I stood and walked out.

My younger sister, who is my personnel slave waited in the kitchen of our home, naked, kneeling with hot coffee ready to be poured. She knows I always like a cup to settle down and for the last year and a half always had fresh coffee waiting. I sat and drained half a cup whilst running my fingers through her beautiful dark hair. It soothes me.

I spent the rest of the morning doing the mundane paperwork that every business seems to generate. There was a knock on my office door around one o'clock, I looked up as my mother dressed in her usual corset stockings and heels brought in a covered tray and laid it on my desk before kneeling at my side. I lifted the covers to find my favorite lunch foods laid out. A salad with blue cheese dressing, a homemade hamburger on a sourdough toasted bun with bacon and cheese and a plate of onion rings steaming hot, there was even a ice cold container of home made ice cream shake. Suddenly I realized I hadn't eaten since before the plane trip back home and I was starving.

I tore into the food, barely remembering to feed bites to my mother as she knelt beside me and for twenty minutes I blissfully pigged out.

"That was great! Thanks, Mom. I'd forgotten too eat this morning. (Truthfully I had not had much appetite since finding out about Christine's predicament.)

My Mother recently retired from running her own temporary agency and had moved to the farm with Dad when he retired to take over the family business. He had only agreed to run the farm until I finished college and could assume the responsibility which I now had and which was weighing heavily on my every thought.

Mom moved over between my legs and unzipped my pants.

I leaned back in my chair and watched as my Mother began to kiss and lick my rapidly hardening cock. She was my boyhood fantasies come true, half naked, dressed in her sexy outfit and worshipping my cock. My Mother, My slave.

Watching her head bob up and down as her golden brown hair brushed against my pants, feeling her hot moist mouth and wet slippery tongue slide across my cock and knowing I could shove my now steel hard rod into any wet and welcoming hole in her tanned and trim body had fueled as many new fantasies in the two years since I was let in on the family secret as I had ever had as a growing and horny teen. I think I was more in love with my Mother now than I had been as her boy growing up.

I stood up and stripped off my clothes then grasped her hair and used it as a guide to put her on all fours as I maneuvered myself behind and between her knees. Her firm rounded buttocks framed by the corset and the garters with her visible pussy lips hanging down almost had me ready to pop before I ever laid cock to pussy. I spent a few minutes, kissing and nipping at her firm yet soft ass flesh while running my fingers between her wet lips and dipping into her ready and moist hole.

I loved the sighs and sharp intakes of breath as I played with her clit or suddenly inserted between one and three fingers into her virgina pressing against her g spot. (Yes, I took a few human sexuality courses in my last years at college. You can't work on the engine if you don't know what and where the parts are and how they work together.) I also used some of her very moist drippings to lube her anus as I had plans for that hole as well.

When her forehead hit the floor and her ass was as high and spread as she could push herself I began to insert my manhood into the dark spot from which it had sprung so many years ago. I used her hip bones as handles and rode the woman for all I was worth. Long deep strokes and short jabbing thrusts, I would bring her to the release point and freeze waiting for her trembling muscles to settle down just enough before starting again.

Finally I heard what I had been waiting for, her breathless pleading; her teeth clenched "Master, Please. Fuck me." I rammed her hard and steady using both my leg muscles to slam forwards and her hip bones to pull her tight into my thrusts until she came screaming into her orgasm. As she collapsed forward I pulled out of her dripping pussy and thrust into her now relaxed ass in one hard thrust. She arched her back coming almost completely straight up and that's when I trapped her arms as I grabbed her beautiful breasts in both hands and pulled her tight against me. One further hard thrust and my cock exploded flooding deep in her rear canal with my molten spunk.

We knelt on the carpeted floor, her sitting on my thighs, my cock still buried to the hilt in her ass as we caught our breath, her head turned towards me as we kissed. How long we sat holding each other I have no clue but when she slowly toppled forward drawing out my member from her body, my legs were both asleep. We lay side by side recovering.

My Mother turned on her side and smiled at me. "Thank you My Lord for saving my daughter, your sister. Neither you're Father nor was your Grandfather willing to risk the family fortune."

"It wasn't their decision to make, it was mine. I don't know yet if it was a financially sound decision, but it was the right one."

My mother was still smiling when she left with the dishes a little while later and I had sis wash me clean in our shower before I got dressed to tour the farm.

September and business despite the "scandal" was busy. We had four ponies in training, five wives's being taught to be submissive's, two girlfriends being trained as maids and two women being taught how to be pain sluts. Most of these put in several hours each day in the fields, working and harvesting the crops that kept our farm status and provided fresh vegetables for Grandma's table.

Several fruit crops including a long fence line of boysenberries and blackberries provided fruit for canning, fresh fruit for eating and plenty left over for sale in town. The thorny bushes also provided some natural opportunities for either punishment or pain training, something the trainers took utmost advantage of.

There is just something about seeing a naked and sweating female form being fucked from behind as her breasts, belly and pussy are pressed into the thorns of a bush laden with fruit, watching as the juice stains her skin and hearing her tiny gasps of pain each time you thrust her forward into the thorns as you plow her pussy or ass that just makes it so enjoyable.

We ate a lot of fresh preserves and fresh fruit poured over ice cream that fall.

I watched as two pony girls pulled a wagon load of corn from the field. The trainer used her whip to touch up their stance and make sure their legs were lifted high enough regardless of the load they were working. If they could keep proper position pulling such a load, pulling a surrey or racing cart would be a cinch.

I watched as four of the wives/submissive's and one of the maids in training returned from the fields in the early afternoon. All looked tired and sweat and dirt covered as they were marched over to the outdoor shower. Training takes all forms and getting these city women used to being naked and used to washing each other was just one step in their routines. It got them more relaxed about nudity and touching and being touched by their own sex. The dominate males and male trainers around here got them plenty used to being touched by the opposite sex.

I made a note that one of the women's breasts were getting sunburned to the point of being a heath problem and notified one of the trainers.

Walking around the barn I stopped to watch one of the show ponies being worked. Tits up and belled, knees raised just so as she pranced around the ring, tail swishing to and fro looking almost real as it was the exact same color as her long ponytail. Gramps had said this one was just here for training and came with her own trainer and attendants, gear and sleeping facility. I understood she was some sort of champion in the human pony circuit and highly prized by her owner, who wanted her trained here in part so her training wouldn't be seen until the next pony event. I really didn't care about ponies but he paid extremely well for the use of our farm so I checked up on her with her trainer just to make damn sure there was nothing they needed.

I ran into Gramps and Dad at different times on my walk about, going over with each of them questions I had or suggestions for use and or improvements of different aspects of the farm. (Things of no interest to most people just day to day activities around any working farm.) By the time I heard the dinner bell ringing at the main house, I had toured most of the farm as was getting to be my routine a couple of times a week. I was of the firm belief that the more I knew about every aspect of the farm and the training the better I could become as its manager.

Dinner was for the first time in a long time a bit strained to say the least. Neither Dad nor Gramps had much to say. Mom, Grandma and my younger sister were grinning like idiots. I was sitting there without much appetite once again because I was worried which choice Christine would make and whither or not I had done the right thing for the entire family. Suddenly being the head of the family didn't seem as much fun as the soap opera's make it seem on TV.

I had made a good bargain; at least I hoped I had. I had paid off The Firm with most of our reserve capital and that worried me some but what else could I do? She was a dumb slut. Granted. She had seriously pissed off very powerful people, who could make things very rough for this family, but that was the entire point. Christine was family, come hell, or high water that was the most important thing. She was family and nothing was worth more than that.

Suddenly with that internal revelation I relaxed and attacked my supper with a gusto that surprised everyone at the table. Even not knowing what choice Christine would make didn't matter any more; I had done my best, for Christine and for the family. The rest was up to the gods. I could go to sleep tonite not afraid to look in the mirror in the morning. I had done my best.

After dinner I took sis back to our house, her carrying a tray for Christine. I spent some time finishing up the days paperwork, checked my e-mail and gathered up my sister/slave and went to bed.

Getting up at cock crow is an old standard of farm life; it's also for the birds. Yeah the servants/slaves/maids and ponies need to be up and about their daily routines at the crack of dawn and I suppose that means the trainers have to be up long before that noisy crack but I'll be damned if I "The Master of all I survey" (just kidding) was going to get up that damned early. I mean what was the use of servants if you beat them to the coffee pot? Where was their chance to serve?

I rolled out of sleep sometime near eight to the smell of fresh coffee and the sight of my half-naked (she was wearing some kind of gauzy silky genie type pants with slits in interesting places) holding out a large mug in my general direction.

I took my time with my coffee and my shower (just had her wash me no sex this morning) it was still before nine when I stood outside my older sisters room. I took a deep breath and let it out then opened the door.

Summer

My humiliation and failure was complete, nothing worse could be done to me. My Grandfather was going to be in charge of exacting The Firms revenge for my stupidity.

I remembered back to the first summer vacation I had gotten to take from the Woodward Private Institute. It was the summer break between my sophomore and junior years. The three previous summers I had remained at school, partially my own fault, my grades and advancement while good enough for the most part it was felt additional training over the vacations would improve areas where and I quote "Your physical responses are adequate, barely. Your performance lacks grace and style that practice will improve and while there are no formal classes; reviewing the last years academics can only help your studies for next semester."

My sophomore year I worked my ass off and actually got better than average grades and performance reviews. So I was going home for the summer. I would see my family for the first time in three years.

The final class was over, already many of the other girls were being picked up. We would wait like proper young ladies in our rooms, bags packed, sitting quietly on our straight back chairs and one by one the social directors would appear in our doorway and say a name. The lucky girl would pick up her bags and waltz through the door to relative freedom.

When my turn came at long last I thought I would explode from my chair and run screaming down the hall and into the arms of my beloved family, however three years of training and discipline controlled my body far more than my meager mind was capable of. I stood, gracefully knelt down between my bags, and stood to follow the social director a carefully trained three steps behind.

To my surprise I was taken to the headmaster Mr. Woodward's office. The social director knocked once on the polished oak door and ushered me inside. Déjà vu, once again I was in the headmaster's office and my Father was seated in the comfortable leather guest chair. This time however instead of punk/goth clothes I wore the regulation school uniform, White blouse buttoned up, school tie, plaid skirt down to the tops of my knees and black leather high heeled boots.