by Doctor MC
Almira walked from where she was standing (right next to Elvira) to a spot six inches in front of me. Her eyes begged for permission to snuggle and grope me. Beyond Almira, I heard Elvira cry, “NO-O-O!”
I said, “Elvira, get in the back seat. Of course I’m getting in the front seat, since I’m driving. Elvie, should Almira sit in the front seat or the back seat?”
Elvira begged, “Please, Almie, sit with me!”
Almira turned to look at her sister, but put a hand on my chest. Almira said, “I’d really like to sit with Marvin. Can you make it worth my while to sit with you?”
“I’ll lick your pussy during the drive. If you’ll eat me out, once we get to his house.”
“Ten minutes, max,” Almira said.
Elvira asked me, “Is it a ten-minute drive to your house? Or more?”
I said, “It’s going to be more. Because I just realized, I need to stop by your house and you two get your clothes.”
Elvira said to Almira, “You do me for ten, and I do you for much more than ten? That’s not fair.”
“Suit yourself,” Almira said. She walked over to the passenger-side door and put her hand on the handle.
“Okay, okay, we have a deal!” Elvira cried.
Almira got into the back seat, and I started the car. Thirty seconds later, Almira gasped. “Oh, that’s nice.”
****
The LeClerc house was white, with pink flamingos in the yard. I looked at Elvira in the rear-view mirror and said, “Here’s the deal. You have twenty minutes to change out of your vampire costume, gather up other clothes, and come back here. Twenty minutes from now, if you aren’t in my back seat or standing by my open trunk, I’m driving off.”
Elvira smirked. “That’s a threat?”
“When I drive away, it’ll be with Almira in the car. And I’ll forbid her to talk to you on the phone, or stand within five feet of you. That’s the threat.”
Elvira gave me a raspberry. “Never happen. Almira’s my twin.”
From Almira: silence.
Elvira said nervously, “Back me up here, Almie.”
From Almira: silence.
Elvira asked me, “How long will you tell Almie to be like that? Staying away from me?”
I shrugged. “For as long as I think you’ll cause me problems, Elvira. Worst-case scenario: for years.”
Elvira said, “Almie, please say something.”
Almira said, “I’ll do whatever Marvin tells me to do. Whether it’s to suck his cock or to ignore my sister.”
“Why are you choosing him over me? I’m your twin sister!”
“Because I’m scared shitless of him not liking me. Plus, you’re often a bitch, Elvie.”
Elvira’s rear-view-mirror image looked at Almira in shock, then looked at me. “Start the clock. Twenty minutes,” she said in a quiet voice.
****
Nineteen minutes later, Almira and I were standing by my open car trunk. Almira was stroking my arm and saying, “If there’s anything you want, I have no problem giving it to you right here in front of my house. Anything you want; you’re strong.”
Distracted, I said, “Maybe later.” My attention was on Elvira, who was trying to hurry down the front walkway toward me, while managing a suitcase, a stuffed pillowcase, and an armload of clothes.
Moving alongside Elvira, unsuccessfully ordering her back into the house, was a brunette woman in her forties.
As Elvira was dumping stuff into my trunk, the older woman started verbally attacking me—
“Young man, you are not taking my daughters to your house to be your little pet sex slaves! I demand that you turn them over to me!”
“Ma’am, the name on my birth certificate is Marvin, not Young man. Speaking of names, what’s yours?”
“I am Mitchell Landrieu-LeClerc—”
“I’m sorry, did you say Mitchell?”
Almira said, “It’s really Michelle, but that’s too girly a name for running the local chapter of the Abzug Society. So Mother pronounces it weird.”
Ms. Landrieu-LeClerc was on a tear again: “Marvin, how I pronounce my name is not the important thing. I demand—”
I slapped Almira on the butt. “Go change, and bring your clothes out. The three of us leave in twenty minutes.”
“You will do no such thing!” the mom said. “You two are staying here!”
“Yes, Marvin,” Almira said, smiling sweetly at me. “Back in twenty minutes.” She hurried into the house.
By then, I’d decided that I was tired of playing defense. I said, “You want me to release your daughters to you? Fine. I put up twenty thousand dollars cash for their bail. Plunk twenty thousand in my hand right now, and you can have them. I’ll even unload the trunk.”
She looked at me like I was a cockroach. “I will give you the twenty thousand dollars when I have it. In the meantime, Elvira, go in the house.”
Elvira whined, “Mother, I can’t, he’ll—”
Ms. Landrieu-LeClerc snarled at me. “You will do nothing to her, do you hear?”
I looked around, and saw neighbors watching the show. I suspect “Mitchell” Landrieu-LeClerc wasn’t popular with her neighbors.
I turned back to face mother and daughter, and said calmly, “Elvira, get in the back seat.”
Elvira looked at my face, walked to the back-seat door, and opened it.
“No! Do not get in his car!” her mother ordered.
Elvira whined again: “Mother, I have to.” She got in the back seat and shut the door.
The mom-witch said to me: “I don’t know what kind of perverted, evil—”
“Let’s get one thing clear,” I said. I spoke as calmly as a hypnotist on tranquilizers. “These women are over eighteen. You have no say in what they may or may not do. Since I posted bail for them, I am responsible for them. I say again: I am responsible, not you. Because I am responsible for them, I have authority over them. I, not you. I’ve told you my terms: I leave with twenty thousand dollars cash in hand, or I leave with your daughters.”
“I can get the cash, but it’ll take me a few days. Or I can write you—”
“—a check?” I laughed. “Two words: stopped payment.”
By now, Almira was dumping a bunch of clothes into my trunk—or trying to. She ran out of trunk capacity before she ran out of clothes. So she dumped the surplus on the passenger seat.
Almira shut the passenger-side door, then sashayed back to me. Her new outfit was showing a lot of her skin, and a lot of her shape. (And a lot of copper on her forearms—way too much of her bare arm-skin was green.) Almira kissed me on the cheek. “We need to run, Mother,” Almira said cheerfully. “We’ll see you at the trial.”
Almira’s mom tried one last bluster at me: “I’m hiring an attorney to represent my daughters at their trial. And if she informs me that you are doing anything illegal or immoral to my daughters...”
I looked at her and said, “Tell me, do you enjoy hating half the human race? Has it brought you happiness? As for your threat—”
I imagined remarking to Fatima over breakfast, This woman is causing me legal grief for no good reason. Such a pity, nothing can be done.
“—go right ahead, Michelle LeClerc,” I said. “The results will be fascinating.”
A minute later, Almira was in the back seat, the car was moving, and Elvira had resumed licking clit. I remarked, “Your mother needs to loosen up, take a vacation, you know? Someplace like Acapulco.”
From the backseat, Almira yawned.
****
Amazingly, once we reached the mansion, Elvira never wondered how she could fall asleep while performing cunnilingus. Even more amazing, Almira never wondered how she could fall asleep while enjoying cunnilingus.
Fatima then surprised me as well as the twins: She “found in the attic” a matching set of gray French Maid outfits. They didn’t fit the twins perfectly, and the color wasn’t a perfect match for the twins’ eye color. (That would have been way to
o coincidental.)
Fatima pointed out that Elvira wasn’t invited to the party as a guest; but this way, she had the option to attend as a servant. No surprise, Elvira refused to be a French Maid. Then Almira, while looking at me with desire, volunteered to be a French Maid from now till the trial date. Then Almira “persuaded” Elvira to volunteer as well.
Belatedly I recalled that when Elvira had dissed me with her crack about “French Maids,” Fatima had been magically monitoring that conversation.
****
An hour before the party, Fatima went around to the five of Gregory’s Girls who were going through drug withdrawal; Fatima had a pill bottle in her hand. Each drug-addicted girl was given a dark-green pill with an ‘F’ stamped into it. Each girl was told that within twenty minutes, her nausea, “shakes,” and drug cravings would start dropping; by one o’clock, all that stuff would be gone. But alas, four hours from now, the effects would start wearing off and her discomforts would return.
Holly noticed that everything on the pill bottle was (supposedly) printed in Spanish.
Reader, I still don’t know if I did the right thing that day. To make those five girls go through days of suffering and agony in their drug withdrawal, with only three hours free of such—that strikes me as cruel. On the other hand, it strikes me as unwise and risky to let anyone, even my touch-slaves, witness Fatima cure a woman’s drug addiction, five times over.
So instead, Gregory’s Girls got convinced that Fatima masked their symptoms for three hours with Mexican over-the-counter medication. My secret was kept safe—but Reader, ever since the day of the pool party, I’ve felt like a prick about my addicts’ needless suffering.
****
At 12:58, with the arrival of car-pooling Kristin, Elena, Anna Kay, Stephanie, and Diane, the pool party started. By 1:12, all the guests had arrived, and the party was in full swing. (The latecomers were late not because they’d left their house late. Instead, they were late because when they got to the mansion, they couldn’t believe that I lived in such a grand house, and they were too intimidated at first to press the call button by the gate.)
Sherry and Virgilia were the last to arrive. I’d just finished a bathroom break when I heard the click-clack of high heels on the entranceway floor. When I looked down the stairs and saw the blond strippers, I told Almira, “I’ll take things from here, Almira. Thank you.”
“Tres bien, monsieur,” Almira said. She gave me a dazzling smile, curtsied, and headed for the poolside kitchen.
Virgilia watched Almira walk away; Virgilia wore a puzzled expression. “Jeez, that girl looks just like one of Mitchell’s daughters. Nah, can’t be,” Virgilia muttered.
I’d seen neither Sherry nor Virgilia since Monday, and they were whom I’d lost my virginity to, recall. But now in the entranceway, once I was within reach of those two, I gave each of them long, deep kisses. Each woman rubbed my cock as she was kissing me.
Then I said (only six days late), “I claim you.” Sherry and Virgilia, each in turn, replied, “I am yours.”
Then I got between the siliconed blondes, I linked arms with them, and we walked out to the pool.
Chapter 34
The Pool Party
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Mentioned characters Tim Hanson and Susan Cooper are borrowed from my story Names Have Power.
****
So, Reader, just as a friendly reminder, who was at the pool party? Besides Fatima and I, present were—
• The Plato Smith High School women—Kristin, Elena, Bellina Mott, Stephanie, Diane, Anna Kay, and Felicia. Kristin was the youngest of my harem girls (eighteen years and twelve days old). She’d also been 100 percent lesbian till I’d taken her virginity; this maybe explained Kristin’s interest in bodybuilding. Elena was the first touch-slave to be lesbian with another slave (Kristin); since then, Elena and Kristin had become very close friends. Bellina, Stephanie, and Diane joined my harem during the Home Ec Lab orgy. Bellina Mott was both my touch-slave and, for two more weeks, my English teacher. Bellina had been a member of the Abzug Society till I made her drop out. Diane had been so shy as to be invisible in class, but she’d become a lot more social in the last few days. Anna Kay was the only one to join my harem voluntarily, instead of after becoming a touch-slave; indeed, my magic didn’t work on her even slightly. On the other hand, a wish had molded me, both inside and out, into being Anna Kay’s “heart’s desire.” Another part of that wish meant that anytime I treated Anna Kay special, she had an orgasm. Felicia French was a model who lived up to her name while substitute-teaching trig class.
• The Monday Women, whom I met on the first day after Fatima had granted my wishes—Sherry, Virgilia, and Bridget. Sherry had been Uncle Warren’s “odd-days girlfriend”; Virgilia had been his girlfriend for even days. Both were fake blond, both artificially buxom, and both stripped at the Nimfo Club. Sherry was a true bimbo, brainless and clueless. But Virgilia, who’d taken on the role of Sherry’s big sister, was smarter than me. Virgilia once had been a feminist, to the point of handing out pamphlets at the Nimfo Club (where she’d been ensnared by Uncle Warren). But now she genuinely loved stripping and truly loved cocksucking. (Which probably explained Virgilia’s collagen-injected lips.) Sherry and Virgilia had taken my virginity. Bridget, my lawyer’s legal assistant, became my first touch-slave (accidentally), and she was the first to suck me off. I fucked her on Friday, in the same conference room where Aunt Esther had tried to cheat me out of my inheritance.
• Gregory’s Girls—Janice, Miriam, Tiffani, Matsuko, Holly, and Erin, all of whom were hookers till I rescued them. Janice was my Plato Smith locker-neighbor who I ordered to get clean from drugs, and then I had to rescue her from pimp Gregory’s foul clutches. Miriam owned a white Honda clunker, but didn’t know even simple stuff about how to keep it running. Erin had neon-orange hair and eyebrows. Matsuko was Japanese, and sounded it.
• The Women at Rhonda’s Party—Almira and Elvira, Brenda, Christi Ellen, and Olivia. Almira and Elvira were twins with blue eyes, big tits, and wicked hearts. The twins had party-crashed, and brought crack cocaine as a blackmail ploy, but Tim Hanson and I made sure that the evil twins got arrested for possession of that crack cocaine (plus arrested for public lewdness). Because of a magical whoopsy by Tim Hanson, Elvira got made permanently horny for her twin sister. Brenda and Christi Ellen were strippers at Babes Aplenty, a blue-collar strip club. Christi Ellen was a big fan of Senator Paula Sarin. Olivia looked like a virgin when I met her, acted like one, and was inept at blowjobs; but I never outright asked her what her experience was.
Bridget, Erin, and Olivia all were redheads. Does that say something about me?
****
Sherry and Virgilia, with me between them, walked from the mansion’s entranceway and through French doors to reach the pool in the back yard. As soon as we three stepped outside, Virgilia stopped with a jerk. She turned to me and said, “Marvin sir, may I go over there?” Virgilia was pointing at my (pink bikini-wearing) English teacher. “And talk to Bellina?”
I blinked. “You know Bellina Mott?”
Sherry said something similar: “You know her, Virgie? She looks smart.”
“Yes, Marvin sir, I know Bellina,” Virgilia said. Now she looked sad: “I just hope Bellina will admit that she knows me.”
“Permission granted,” I said.
Virgilia kissed me on the cheek, then click-clacked away, moving surprisingly fast in such high heels.
Seconds later, Virgilia said, “Hello, Bellina, how are you?” I saw that Virgilia’s shoulders were tense.
I saw the Plato Smith girls exchange glances—Why is this skank talking to Bellina?—as Bellina said, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
By now, Sherry and I were standing next to Virgilia; I had my hand on Virgilia’s shoulder. I’m sure my touch comforted Virgilia, but she still sounded nervous when she said, “Don’t you remember me, Bellina? Virgilia O’Keefe. I was in the Abzug Society until two years ago.”
&n
bsp; Bellina’s eyes went wide. Then she said stiffly, “Yes, Virgilia, I remember you. And I remember that Mitchell kicked you out of the Society. We caught you giving a blowjob to some geezer in the parking lot of a strip club.”
Virgilia choked. “ ‘We’? You were there that day?”
Bellina said, “It was Mitchell, Susan Cooper, and I who caught you in the act.” Then Bellina added nastily, “I’m sure you don’t remember me because your thoughts were clearly elsewhere then. But I must say, Virgilia, your current look suits you.”
I held up a hand to silence everyone. “Bellina, I know something you don’t. Virgilia, tell me about that day, starting with your arrival at the Nimfo Club, through meeting Uncle Warren, and ending with Michelle drumming you out of the Abzug Society.”
Bellina looked at me in surprise. “Wait, the old geezer was your uncle?”
I swept my arm around. “And all this used to be his. But let Virgilia tell her story.”
I made eye contact with Fatima and, with directed gazes and a small gesture, sent her a message of Come here.
Meanwhile, Virgilia took a breath, then said, “There were about a half-dozen of us there; Cuddles, a dancer, let us sneak inside a little after seven o’clock. We were there to hand out pamphlets—”
I asked, “What were the pamphlets?”
“Explaining how strip clubs exploit women, and that women deserve better than to be lusted-after by strangers.”
Bellina nodded in agreement.
Virgilia continued, “We knew we didn’t have long before the bouncers threw us out. I’d walk up to a man, say, ‘Please respect women,’ hand him a pamphlet, and move on. Then this camera flash went off, about ten feet away from me—”
I asked, “Uncle Warren, taking your picture with his digital camera?”
Virgilia nodded.
I said, “I’ve seen the photo—even in a shapeless wool skirt, you were pretty. So did you talk to him then? Or did he talk to you?”
“He said to me, ‘I don’t often see women in here who are covered up.’ I said, ‘What we’re doing here, it’s a paramountcy.’ He said, ‘You seem brainy. Are you a smart girl?’ I replied, ‘Yes, I’m in Mensa.’ Then he touched me and said, ‘I bet you know a lot, about lots of different things.’ That’s when I started craving to suck his dick.”