Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Ma/ft, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Crime, Humor, Mystery, Workplace, Extra Sensory Perception, Incest, Brother, Sister, Daughter, Cousins, Light Bond, Group Sex, Harem, Orgy, Black Female, White Male, Oriental Female, Hispanic Female, Indian Female, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, First, Oral Sex, Petting, Safe Sex, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Small Breasts, Nudism, Politics, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Orphaned computer nerd assembles huge team of assorted housemates as he discovers his solitude/orphanitude ain't a bit like the brochure. Spies, bad guys and family lurk around every corner. Atypical days in NYC are the norm.

(Author’s note: Ok, so maybe I played a little with the geography in Manhattan. Some locations may be as described, or not. NYPD’s attitude toward personal freedom of expression may not be as casually freewheeling as my characters might assume. As usual, forget about anyone resembling anyone in the real world.)

An outside observer might say I was lucky, living the life college kids yearned for after graduation. Maybe, maybe not. The theoretical outside observer might not know I lost my parents to a very wealthy drunk driver while I was in college. The lawsuit, the insurance payout, and the inheritance made me quite rich, even after Dad funded trusts for favorite charities and scholarships. Cold comfort. They might not know I was awarded a master’s in computer science at the ripe old age of twenty from M.I.T., on top of the degree in engineering from NCSU, when it happened. They were coming to celebrate that accomplishment when the wreck left me an orphan.

Though I arranged for a maintenance service, the family place in Asheville sat empty. I just couldn’t live alone there yet. Instead, I used a small fraction of the windfall to buy a five-story brownstone on the Upper Westside and started a one-man computer consulting business. My folks worked hard and achieved their success the hard way and I could do no less. It wasn’t a perfect family, sometimes the road was bumpy and admittedly a little confusing for an only-child, but it worked for us. You could say we made room for each other to be people. It was a lesson in gently guided independence and self-reliance, learned early. I wanted, rather, I needed to stay busy and earn my way rather than live off the sudden money. Anything else would not be right.

Less than a year later, I was showing one of my search engines to an old thesis advisor and I thought he was going to have a seizure. The old guy insisted I take a few more math classes and another software design course. They were offered on line, but I had to take the exams on campus in Boston. Guess what? The clever bastard enrolled me on a PhD program behind my back!

He prodded me into writing a paper on the research that went into developing the algorithms of my original searchbots. I applied for and got the patents, submitted the paper and, at twenty-one, became an accidental Doctor of Philosophy in Software Design.

I always suspected he secretly hoped I would just submit the paper and the university would cosign the patents so his department would make a bunch of money. The old buzzard never admitted it and retired soon after.

So I worked and built a thriving consulting firm over the years, getting a reputation as a no nonsense problem solver, efficient systems designer and emergency go-to-guy. Few people knew I had the doctorate.

Now, at the age of twenty-eight, I suffered the pains of success. I was making myself crazy. The constant work helped me ignore the sense of being alone in the world. Sometimes I played my music to distract myself, but the sense of lonliness was forever in the background. I had more than a few relationships in the past, but that was in the past. My partners moved on with no regrets on either side. These days, my single-minded drive to build the business eventually drove the music out and ended any social life I might have explored.

Something needed to improve while I could see above the top of my self-created rut.

Today, after getting up way too early, rushing downtown to fix a broken ATM network at a very big bank, trying diplomatically to tell banking executives their IT people were a marginally competent bunch of bozos and trying to get the bozos to worry about wires, not software, I realized I needed help. Not in my business, but in running my life.

I liked things neat. Things were not neat. The nearly empty kitchen, the full message box and the pile of mail waiting at home starkly emphasized the problem when I got back. Solo self-employment ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. You run out of hours. I still had bookkeeping, billing and housekeeping to do, plus the final touches on the new server system ordered by a department store and the training sessions for the employees of the insurance company I just upgraded. Fortunately, I lived on the third and fourth floors of my building. Unfortunately, the day was Wednesday and everything needed to be done by Friday.

The weather sucked eggs, so I stayed in the office the rest of the afternoon, planning the training sessions, calling the insurance people to confirm the appointment times on Friday. Thursday, I could finish the department store job and schedule the installation over the weekend. That took care of Saturday night and Sunday. At least, their staff was briefed and ready for the change. Competent IT people are a blessing.

That left me with a choice: either sleep like a normal person or do the shopping and paperwork. That was not a fun game. I chose to sleep and get help. Some paperwork could wait until Monday and restaurants deliver. I got enough done to survive the week.

The Friday training went smoothly. A similar user interface with more options was the trick. Once the options were explored, the clients were pleased.

The installation at the department store was a bear. We moved the new equipment from my second story assembly and testing area in the morning and spent the rest of the day putting it together in their server farm. After closing time, we took the East Coast stores down and switched the systems out. It went well. Central, Mountain and Pacific zone stores followed. The only glitch was a server crash at a store in San Diego, which delayed the backup. But that was part of the reason the department store wanted the new systems.

We solved the problem and monitored the activity all day Sunday, all time zones until everyone was satisfied. During one of the calm periods, I asked the IT guys if they could recommend a person to be an office assistant and light housekeeper. One told me about his cousin who was working as a temp, trying to support her little sister. She lost her job when the company outsourced her department to India. I got her number.

Andy, the IT guy, said she was pretty smart and, at this point, was willing to do any kind of work to keep her sister and herself from being homeless. “My place is too small and our families live too far away to help. It would help her a lot and take a weight off my shoulders.”

“Andy, I can help her out if she passes the interview and she is willing to be a live-in. There are two bedrooms, living room and large and small bathrooms on the top floor of my building. I can make room and board part of her payment package. I live on the third and fourth floors. My office and equipment occupy the first and second. Can you have her call me Monday? I would rather have a person recommended personally than a stranger responding to a want ad.”

Andy said she would call first thing and we went back to the task at hand. At 6 o’clock the eastern stores closed and the sales summaries, inventory updates and backups went smoothly. So did the other zones. By 11 o’clock we were ready to go home. They planned to pack the old servers up in the morning and send them to me. A smaller operation would be happy to get them once I checked them out and wiped the drives of proprietary information. It was part of my contract.

A late night visit to a Japanese take-out place supplied dinner. Paperwork and mail with one hand and food with the other. I really hoped the interview went well. This routine was getting old.

The ringing phone woke me up at 7:30 AM. Jeez. This better be good. Who calls this early on a Monday? I thought evil thoughts. “Talk to me,” I said into the phone.

“Is this Zephyr Computer Systems? My cousin, Andy, said to call first thing.” A very cheerful voice responded.

“It will be in about an hour and a half. Right now, it’s Mark Allyn and he is almost awake. If you have an ounce of mercy, you will go to the bagel shop near Broadway and 71st, get a dozen assorted, stop at the deli, get some cream cheese and come back at 8. Tell them to put it on Zephyr’s account, mention my name.” I hung up. Her first test.

I hit the bathroom, did the morning checklist, donned jeans and a t-shirt and was downstairs before she pressed the doorbell. I buzzed her in and took the packages to the small kitchen in the rear. “Can you make coffee?” I asked. “I’m not civilized before the first cup and it was a long weekend.”

She answered. “Yes. Where are the makings?”

“In the cupboard over the counter with the coffeemaker. I have to get some stuff from the office. Be right back”

Instead of a standard employment application, I put some blank paper on a clipboard and considered what I knew so far. ‘Quick to do as ordered. Smart, according to Andy. Maybe too prompt, but I can get used to that. Small. Attractive. Young, but responsible enough to support her sister. Makes coffee. OK for now.’

In the kitchen, she had brewed the life giving nectar, poured two cups and set the bagels out on a platter. “Hope you like it black, boss. There is no milk in the refrigerator and no sugar to be found. The platter and spreader were in the cabinet under the coffee machine.”

“Call me Mark. What do I call you?”

“Amy. Short for Amy Marie McGee.” She said, smiling.

“Amy, let’s have some breakfast while you write everything I need to know about you. Application forms are too formal and the job isn’t.”

Her bagel selection was excellent. Point for her. Three everything, three garlic, two cinnamon/raisin, two plain and two onion. One tub of plain cream cheese, one olive/pimento rounded it out. Receipts on the table. Amy had an onion and a cinnamon/raisin. I had an everything and a garlic.

We talked about the job, the business and the building while she filled the paper. “I need an assistant to handle calls, light bookkeeping and easy office work. Mostly, I do it all now. Training will be quick. And, maybe most importantly, I need someone to run the house. Food shopping, bill payments, some cleaning, some laundry and housekeeping.”

Amy handed me the clipboard. “Amy Marie McGee, birthday, SS#, NYU, Art History. 19 years old. Parents divorced, living on West Coast. They left both of us here, on our own. Social services not involved. Recently laid off by publishing company. Living on Lower Eastside. 5’0” tall, 100 pounds. Red hair. Sister, Mary Ellen, 15 years. Neither parent wanted custody.” I read out loud. “You know, most of this information is the sort I am forbidden to ask of a potential employee.”

She nodded shyly.

I reread the sheet. “You are only nineteen and have a degree from NYU?”

“Skipped grades, heavy course loads and summer school. As for the rest, I figured if I was living here, you would find out anyhow.” She said, looking down at the table. It was the first crack in her demeanor. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. I had you do it this way to check your handwriting, spelling and grammar. Too many people depend too much on tech to learn how to do grammar school things. Most cannot even spell. You pass. Any communication going out of this building will be correct and accurate. My reputation depends on precision in all things.” I stated, “You will fill in a regular application form later so the accountant can get you on the payroll and the company credit cards.”

“Does this mean I get the job?” She asked. I found it odd that there was no mention of salary, but let it pass.

“A conditional yes. For now, take the clipboard to the top floor and list what you will need to furnish the space for you and your sister, considering what you already have that can be moved. On the way down, look over each floor, listing how you will maintain, clean or change each room. List necessary supplies. Don’t hold back or second-guess what you think I think. I’m going to check your references, landlord, and previous employer. I should be ready when you get back.”

Amy looked worried. “The landlord is not going to be nice. He seems to want more rent than I am willing to pay. He was happy I was laid off.”

“Well, get started. I will take his opinion with a pound of salt.” I shoo-ed her to the stairs.

Her references gave great reviews. The only negative, and it was slight, was a comment by her previous supervisor. “She did her job perfectly, and more. But Amy let people push her around too much. She wound up doing parts of their jobs, plus hers. Never complained. Be good to her. She is a sweetheart.” The woman seemed quite concerned and was sorry Amy’s job went away.

The landlord made me want to wash my ears. Even if I didn’t hire her, I wanted her out of there. Something about his voice and everything about his attitude pissed me off. There is a reason some people take an instant dislike to others. It saves time. I wasted a whole milisecond on him.

Amy was back by now with the list. “You’re hired. Let’s get you moved, now. Do we need to get a truck or will my little pickup truck do?”

She looked stunned. “Not much to move. The little truck should do. That was fast.”

I took the list, got the keys and called the garage to ready the truck. “They will have it waiting by the time we walk over there. I don’t like your landlord. You and your sister need to be somewhere else.”

After getting the truck, we drove downtown. “The pay is $25,000 to start, plus room and board. In your neighborhood, room and board would be worth another $15,000 per year. In mine, it would cost way more. Full medical and dental. We will have the accountant make it part of the job so it won’t count as taxable income. Your sister might have to pitch in, too.”

We arrived at the shabby tenement, bowled through the landlord and loaded the truck. Most of the furniture was too worn to keep. She did take a new double bed, linens, two chests of drawers and some clothes. I offered to buy out the lease, but the greaseball super never bothered to get one signed. I’ll never get that wasted millisecond back.

“Can we pick up Ellie at school?” Amy pleaded.

“Sure. Get her transcripts and records. We will get her in a school closer to the office. Don’t ask. Tell them to give them to you.”

We collected Ellie and the records then headed for the Upper Westside. Ellie was shocked to find out she had moved uptown. Amy explained the situation as quickly as possible before they got to 68th Street. “The live-in job Andy told us about starts today. You are part of the package.”

The two girls and I moved the three pieces of furniture and the clothes boxes upstairs. I left them to unpack and make the bed then settled in the office to catch up the day’s correspondence. I planned to walk Amy through the process when billing for the two most recent jobs. The rest of the time was spent answering emails, sorting the snail mail and returning calls.

I did get two new installation contracts and two troubleshooting jobs. The installations were in Brooklyn and Yonkers. The troubleshooting could happen online, but the hardware was in Pennsylvania and Maryland. Both were companies I had serviced before.

Two dusty faces peeped around the doorframe. “Can we clean up? Our shower has no towels.” Amy asked timidly.

“There are some in my bath on the fourth floor. Use that one until we buy some more or we do laundry. Dress for a trip out to the markets. We’ll stock the kitchen on the third floor. The one down here is usually used for meetings and business conferences. Not much food storage and the stove is small. Mine is more like a real place to make meals.”

The women left and I finished up for the day by 4:00. Andy called. “I checked over at Amy and Ellie’s apartment and the landlord was annoyed. He said they had moved.”

“Yeah. I did not want them there another minute. I hired Amy already. I think she will fit in nicely. Ellie is still a mystery but seems OK.”

“I am so happy for them. I got promoted and transferred to Chicago today. The store is crazy impressed with the job you did and way impressed with how well we worked as a team. The whole department got raises and I got a whole region to supervise. You made us look good.”

“You are good. Best of all, you know when not to wing it. Your network will not reward errors. Downtime is costly. And you have my telephone number. Use it. It’s part of the contract.” I was using my automatic business bossy tone of voice. “So, what can you tell me about Amy and Ellie? Anything at all will help make the move easier.”

Andy sighed and considered his words carefully before speaking. I noticed. “Does your hesitation have something to do with the lack of a custody effort from their parents? Do I have a problem?”

“No. Not really. Amy is very smart but likes her routine to be planned. She will be the perfect assistant and housekeeper. She will do as you wish if only to make you happy. I think she needs an authority figure to flourish. Her Mom was afraid the Dad would get the wrong ideas about what making him ‘happy’ entailed. Ellie is as smart as Amy, but is a late blooming flirt, pure and simple. Her Mom couldn’t deal with her and the she didn’t trust the Dad. That tension is part of the reason for the divorce. Ellie needs an authority figure to keep her in control. Her Mom can’t be and her Dad shouldn’t be that authority. Is that too much? Maybe I can take them to Chicago.”

“Well, it is a bit more complicated than I expected. I do need help around here and I am committed for the short term. Perhaps, I should have done more homework before today, but I jumped in willingly. What’s done is done. The three of us will have to make it work.”

Andy was relieved. “If you need advice, you have my number. I feel like I’m leaving them in good hands.”

“Bet it felt good to say ‘you have my number’, didn’t it? I’ve said it often enough to you.” I laughed. “I’ll try to muddle through.”

“OK. It did but I’m serious about the girls. Call me if it gets too strange. Not that it will, but you are a bachelor and having two girls in the house is going to be very different. I had sisters. You didn’t. Advantage, me.” Andy returned the chuckle. He promised to deliver the swapped servers by Tuesday morning before he departed for Chicago. We disconnected.

In a few minutes the girls trooped in, ready to shop. Three hours and two trips later, I was glad we parked the truck on the street. They had food to survive the apocalypse, new clothes for both girls, linens, towels and mysterious toiletries. Plus, bedroom furniture, a living room set, laptops, lamps and other assorted accessories to be delivered tomorrow.

“Glad that’s over with” I sputtered when they got the truck unloaded. “You put the stuff away while I take the truck back to the garage. See you later.”

“Where do I put the groceries?” Amy asked.

“Put them in my, or rather our, kitchen, upstairs. Laundry supplies in the utility room next to the kitchen and your stuff in your space. Arrange the kitchen however you want. You will be doing most of the work in there. I’ll ask if I can’t find something.”

I left them to their own resources and went to the garage, thinking over the next day’s do-list. Item One on the list was what to with the information returned when I confirmed their social security numbers. It wasn’t a deal killer by any means, my heart knew these girls would work out. I let it slide for later.

Get Ellie into school. Officially hire Amy and make a payroll plan. Receive, sort and recondition the new-old servers. Get access to the networks of the remote new accounts. Start plans for the new installations. The list gets bigger. This may take two days I began to think.

I got home, the girls fixed a simple meal of burgers, fries and a salad. They cleaned up and retired for the evening.

The next week went better than expected. Ellie enrolled at Bingham-Hampton Academy, an all girl private school in the neighborhood, with no trouble. She got advanced placement classes and seemed to thrive. They invited her to try out for the gymnastics team. Ellie was happy.

Amy caught on fast as promised. Housekeeping was light. The office stuff came naturally. She cooked for herself and Ellie everyday before. The only change was she was cooking for one more but the kitchen was bigger and more modern. And the food was better.

I did have an awkward, for me, conversation the day my insurance policies came up for renewal. Employee’s Family Plans. I wanted all the major contingencies covered. Prescription coverage, family planning, regular check ups, OB/GYN, pre- and postnatal care, maternity leave, etc. never concerned me before. They did now.

I found Amy in the laundry room. “I’m updating the insurance policies. We need to talk about family planning, pregnancy, maternity care and medical costs. Tell me what kind of coverage you want or need.”

“As soon as the authorizations were signed, Ellie and I got implants. We keep them up-to-date. The rest of the family coverage will be good, but I will take care of the ‘family planning’ details out-of-pocket. Some carriers pay for Cialis and Viagra, but balk at birth control. That they would cover one for men and make morality excuses for not covering one for women is sexist, if not just plain hateful.” She sighed. “Not like birth control has ever been an issue, but things happen.”

“I’ll take the best employee family coverage they offer and not complain if some prescription claims are rejected. We’ll charge it to the house budget.”

“Good, thank you for caring. Ellie says most of the girls on her team are on the pill or have an implant. Unpredictable periods, leotards and public competition are not pleasant prospects for teenaged girls. Cramps and the uneven parallel bars are natural enemies.”

I was willing to let her take lead. There are some issues men aren’t qualified to vote on. If you can’t carry a baby, you don’t get to vote on birth control. You take orders. At best, we may advise gently and then shut up.

I got hooked in with the firms in Pennsylvania and Maryland. The Pennsylvanians were mostly worried their people would not be able to handle the barely capable, off-the-shelf software if it got corrupted. They were right. No one could. I patched where I couldn’t reverse engineer and set a bot to monitor the system. They really just needed to track sales and inventory in three home improvement stores. I fixed them up right. The bot would report to Zephyr daily and track anomalies.

The Maryland account was a tax prep chain. They were paranoid about information security. Paranoia is healthy. I, using my bossy voice, recommended they disconnect any computer with sensitive info from the Internet. Intranet only with the storefronts connected by dedicated phone lines. No wireless, no cloud, no nothing. All data entry to be manual. No disks, no CDs, no thumb drives. Keyboard only. No exceptions ever.

About the bossy voice: I discovered years ago that if I tell people what to do instead of asking or inviting discussion, I get my way. It’s easier if they have no choices, just instructions.

They put me on retainer and I contracted to visit once a month to update the antivirus on their regular Internet based network and suggested they use their enhanced security as a sales tool.

The start-up community bank in Brooklyn and the convenience store chain in Yonkers were relatively easy jobs. The refurbished servers were actually overkill. I used only two at the bank and four for the 7-11s. Both clients had room to grow.

The girls meshed well with the business. The house ran smoothly, the office was efficient and the extra hands in the equipment room during testing were welcome. I turned my day planner and journals over to Amy. Ellie did well in school. Life was good.

Christmas came and we agreed to let each person get what he or she wanted. Except that I had to let them pick out what I wanted. I wound up at Barney’s, getting what they wanted me to want. I must have wanted some very stylish suits. I thought I wanted a tanning bed and small sauna in the extra room on the fourth floor. Guess I was wrong. Go figure.

They, however, knew exactly what they wanted. From many places. In many bags and boxes. I gladly paid for things I never saw. I had the shops deliver the many packages to the office.

Amy and Ellie were amazed to find out that I had not decorated for Christmas since my parents were killed. Holidays threw me into a dark place. They strung popcorn and bows everywhere. There was a little silver star in my underwear drawer. Everywhere.

Dinner was traditional. We split a bottle of wine. Even Ellie, though she was not yet sixteen, had a glass or two. Conversation got a little silly. All in all, it was a nice evening. My best Christmas in a very long time.

Winter turned into Spring. Life got interesting in May.

Zephyr Systems was booming. Our services became a hallmark of quality and concern for security. The systems never crashed and the software did as advertised. Clients were happy to pay the premium rates. Having Zephyr on retainer appeared to be an IT good luck charm.

I spent very little time out of the office. Client interactions were online, mostly monitoring systems, upgrading software, and schmoozing with executives. I stayed quite busy. Amy was doing fine, a little clingy perhaps, but basically just what I needed. The house was spotless, the bookkeeping up-to-date and the food was great. Ellie completed the ninth grade near the top of her class. Her social life revolved around school, the gymnastics team and home. Summer vacation left the teenager with a lot of free time. She did her summer reading and had twice weekly gymnastics practice. The rest of the time was spent helping her sister and hanging around the house being a teenager.

Between the girls, Amy got most of my attention around the house. She was coming along as an office assistant and started to anticipate my needs. I was getting spoiled. As long as she was following orders, she was happy. I should have spent more time with the younger girl.

One day toward the end of May, I sent Amy to get my laptop and she hesitated so I swatted her ass. Amy just pushed it out at me. So, I squeezed it with both hands and swatted her again. “Go. Laptop. Now. Don’t make me spank you.” Amy squeaked and ran from the room. I remembered what Andy said about a firm hand.

Ellie, on the other hand, acted as if she wanted more attention.

The next day, I was in kitchen when Ellie came through with her laundry, holding the basket to her chest. “Oops. I didn’t know you were here,” she said as she went into the laundry room. I saw her bare back as she passed.

“Did you forget something, Ellie?”

“On the way down, I decided to wash my blouse and I didn’t know you were here.” she mumbled over her shoulder.

“You have something to wear while you wait?” I asked as I went to the door. “Do you even want something?”

“I guess I’ll get my blouse and wash it another day.” She sat the basket on the floor and picked up the blouse as she turned toward the door. When she saw me, Ellie snatched it to her chest, covering a sweet set of teenaged tits. She made a dash for the stairs, bumping me out of the way.

“Very nice, Ellie. See you later.” I called after her. This little event reminded me that I had lived with two attractive ladies for more than 6 months with no personal contact and my social life was suffering. Not that I was that busy, but I once had a life outside of the office. Actually, before the ‘office’, but the physical response was alive and well.

The afternoon and evening went as all the others went with a notable exception. The girls changed into their sleeping gear and camped in my space to watch a movie after supper instead of changing just before bed. Amy wore thin shorts and a t-shirt showing her midriff. Ellie had an opaque cotton babydoll gown with matching panties.

The next morning, I was in the equipment room when Ellie came down the stairs in a nice sheer bra, still putting on her t-shirt. She noticed me after her red head cleared the neck hole. Her face soon matched her hair. I said nothing but raised a questioning eyebrow.

She did not respond and we set about sorting the latest delivery. Her t-shirt, when we were both hot and sweaty, did nothing to hide her pink nipples, visible through her bra. I waited until she was carrying a box with both hands to say, “Is this the new summer uniform?” I stared at her chest.

Ellie glanced down, dropped the box and fled the room. Fortunately, it was not fragile. I took a break as she changed and went to find Amy. “Your sister appears to have a little streak of exhibitionism nowadays. Should you talk to her before I do? Funny how she only seems embarrassed after I comment.”

“I did. She told me to mind my own business. Maybe she just wants some attention.”

“Whatever. The next time it happens, she is in for a shock. I can play that game, too. Follow my lead. That is an order, not a suggestion. I will control what goes on in my home.” I used my bossy voice. Amy shivered a little. “If you wish, find out why she seems to be acting the way she is. Do not mention that I have a plan.”

“Yes, sir.” She answered quietly. Taking control might just be fun on several levels.

Ellie did not appear until lunch break. She and Amy ate in the little kitchen beside the meeting room. I ate in the office and answered the daily correspondence. I low-balled a bid on a point-of-sale system for the market where I shopped on Amsterdam Avenue. I liked them and did not need the money. I had recouped my original investment in the business before taking on the girls and the savings continued to grow despite the extra expense they generated.

I decided to start a college fund for Ellie. She was becoming a handful, but a smart handful who would settle down to become a very good person one day. I would have to think of a way to help Amy put her Art History degree to work. She might help me develop a marketing system for the multitude of art galleries in town. Maybe she could open her own.

I also picked up three more ‘consult and monitor’ type clients. One was in Moonachie and two were in New Haven. The Jersey people made it clear that having Zephyr Systems watching over their shoulders made them appear to be very serious about their customers’ concerns. “You are serious and your customers are safe. I will see to it.” I assured the CEO. Pays to have a good name these days. “I’ll set up the details with your IT people by the weekend.”

I stayed in the office after lunch, sending the girls to finish sorting the delivery. I planned the POS system I was sure to get. Barcode scanners, price lookups, inventory controls, special order automation, category totals, and grand totals. One fat server could handle three workstations, four cash registers and the payroll.

I sent them the details to reinforce the earlier bid, closed the office and hit the shower. By the time I finished up, the redheads had completed the work on the second floor. I sent them to the showers. “I’ll do supper tonight. Fancy burgers and a super salad. Be hungry.”

A half hour later the girls were treated to spicy burgers on toasted Kaiser rolls with Swiss cheese, fresh mushrooms in gravy and sautéed Vidalia onions accompanied by stuffed potatoes and a mixed greens salad. I treated them to a light German wine.

Over supper, I told them of college fund and the art projects. “Ellie, you’ll probably earn a scholarship anyway but this will give you more options and take the pressure off. Amy, you have abilities and knowledge we have not explored. That is a crying shame. If we work together, we can get you a foothold in the Art Community, soon. I’ll incorporate a separate company, owned by the three of us, to write and market a new program to interconnect the various vendors and agents, nationwide. I don’t have the art background and you don’t have the coding skills. But together with Ellie, we can blow the doors off.”

They were excited, big time. After supper and the cleaning the kitchen, they wanted to get started. “OK. I’ll get some materials ready. You all get ready to relax for the evening and meet me in the conference room downstairs. Now, scoot.”

I prepared a whiteboard, drawing paper and three clipboards with pens and my laptop. I opened another bottle of Germany’s finest. Seven minutes later, two lovelies came in wearing babydoll gowns, a bit less modest than Ellie’s the night before. Was Ellie’s attitude changing Amy more than Amy’s big sister talk cooled little sister?

I said nothing about the bed wear and we got down to the task. The girls took over the white board, listing periods, styles, artists and schools. I listened and made notes. I could adapt a standard inventory program, adding digital images to the barcode sections. “Amy. What if I can write a smart phone app that will enable a person to take a photo of a woodblock print by Albrecht Durer and find others by the same artist or similar pieces by other artists, sorted by gallery and availability? Do you think it would work as an add-on to the big program and as a stand-alone for the general public?”

“Yes. Can you make it possible for each gallery owner to upgrade the database every time his gallery gets a hit?” she began to get quite enthused.

“Maybe. Rather than create a visual catalogue for each genre, we can adapt a face recognition program. You girls will have to help me create a taxonomy, assigning relative importance to the search.”

“Taxonomy?” Ellie looked puzzled.

“Like a nature guide. A leaf is oblate, blade-like or lobed. Blade-like leaves are either thin or succulent. Thin leaves have thick or thin veins. And so you follow the clues until you have identified the leaf. Art should work the same way. Black and white, color, photographic, impressionist, surrealist, old, older, new, renaissance, nationality, baroque, modern, etc.” I answered.

“This can get too complex unless we let the gallery owners analyze their individual collections and determine their own order of importance. We benefit from their experience and they get the satisfaction of co-authorship. Since it is shared, the app will be open source.” Amy added.

“Excellent start, ladies. You work on taxonomy and I will adapt my most extensive inventory program to match, adding categories as needed. It already has a search function. It will take months of hard thinking to make this idea marketable, even as a beta version. If we play it right, we can ask a curator at the Met or MOMA to advise. That imprimatur will be a good sales point. But we will have to earn that the old-school way: by getting it right.”

We worked for several hours. The girls divided, subdivided and dissected each genre they could find. I worked on an outline for the program database. Finally, the girls were too tired to be productive so I called it a night. The dress code for the evening was never mentioned but I enjoyed it a lot. They are very pretty girls. Backlit babydoll nighties are OK, too.

I woke up at 7:30 AM as usual, did the morning routine and prepped breakfast. Amy came down first and pushed me away, insisting that food was her job. I did ask her what the deal with the nighties was.

“You told me to follow your lead and since you never commented on Ellie’s pajamas that first time, I figured that was the thing to follow. Did I do all right?” She looked worried that I might be mad. “It made me really embarrassed at first but that went away as soon as we got into the project. I paid it no attention.”

“It got my attention. Amy, you are quite pretty. You should be proud. Besides, if I have to spank you, that gown is the perfect thing to wear.” I said, grinning hugely. “I might even look forward to it. Don’t mess up.”

“Yes, sir. I hope you don’t have to spank me too often.” Amy blushed. “But it is your house.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ellie, again struggling with her shirt, pulling it off this time because it was inside out. Today’s bra was a half-cup style, leaving most of her nipples exposed as if her titties were presented on little display shelves.

“Ellie!” I barked. “You are not dressed. Why?” Bossy voice.

“I realized the shirt was backwards as I got here and was turning it around.”

“Lately, you have had a lot of shirt trouble.” I took the shirt away from her. “Since you have no problem showing yourself, your uniform around the house and office will be bra only until further notice. If we have clients, you will wear a nice blouse. Otherwise, you will dress as you are now. Am I clear?” I demanded.

Keeping her boobs covered with her arms, Ellie pleaded to Amy. “Help me, sister. Can he do this?”

“Mark can and did. He’s the boss. You told me when I asked you earlier to tone it down to mind my own business. You clearly wanted Mark to see you half naked. You got your wish.” Amy took her own shirt off. “Now, it is the uniform of the day. Thanks, sis. But, I don’t mind if he looks at me. It makes me feel pretty. And it cuts down on laundry.” She giggled as she finished the food, French toast and link sausages.

Talk about following my lead! This was a great bonus. Amy’s bra was like Ellie’s. I wondered if she knew what her sister planned to wear today. I remembered the journals she had been keeping up to date. My life for as long as I could write. And now hers and Ellie’s blended in.

I tossed Ellie’s shirt into the laundry room. “Breakfast is ready. Let’s eat and talk over the day’s plan.”

We sat down to eat. I did not comment further on the four hard as diamond nipples in front of me. Amy thrust her tits proudly and began to eat as she would any other day. Ellie had trouble eating with one hand because the other was covering her chest. She finally gave up the attempt and could cut the toast without making a mess.

As we continued to enjoy breakfast, me more than them, we discussed the project. “Because once we get going, we tune everything else out, let’s do that tonight after supper. We can have an early meal and snack later while we brainstorm.” I said, moderately bossy. “Today, Amy has household duties and food ordering to do. I will be in touch with the market and can place the order for delivery. Ellie can either help her sister or work with me on installation for the market. I’m sure we will win the bid.”

Amy dripped some syrup onto her right nipple. Before she could react, I licked a finger and cleaned the sticky nipple, pinching it between my finger and the edge of her bra. She closed her eyes and moaned softly. “Now, my bra is sticky. Might as well add it to the laundry before it is ruined.” She stripped it off and tossed it to the laundry room.

I did not see that coming! Andy said Ellie was a handful. Amy was two very nice hands full.

“Uniform upgrade.” She announced, bashful and bold at the same time. I think she wanted an external excuse to be topless.

Ellie was so shocked she spilled a full glass of OJ down her front and into her lap. Amy jumped up and pulled her wet sister to her feet. In a flash, Ellie lost her bra and shorts to Amy’s laundry load.

Yep. Amy read the journal.

Ellie at least had the presence of mind to dry her chair before sitting down. Then she remembered, as the cold seat touched her fanny, that she was going commando today. Her eyes were the size of Frisbees, as she blushed scarlet all the way to her belly button.

I looked at Amy. “Upgrade?”

“As you wish, sir. Following your lead.” She answered, leaving herself cutely naked right there in the kitchen. I made a twirling motion with my finger. Amy put her hands up and spun around slowly. “You like, sir?”

“I love.” I answered. “The new work clothes fit you perfectly. My compliments to the tailor. Come here, Ellie, and stand beside your sister.”

Ellie slowly stood and moved over to Amy. “Hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart. Now!” Both girls complied. I softly squeezed their breasts, tweaking each nipple until it hardened even more. Then I slid my hands down their fronts to cup two very wet pussies, rubbing slowly. I thought both girls would faint. “If you are good girls today, I might allow you to wear your bras and panties tomorrow. But you will remain naked for me today. No one teases me in our house, Ellie. If you want to tease, expect to pay the price.”

I stepped back, leaving them hanging, never taking my eyes off them. “Now that we have reached an understanding, clear the kitchen and start the day. I will be in my office. The front door will be locked. Any walk-in traffic and deliveries will buzz the intercom. That will give you a chance to go upstairs, but you will not dress. I like you naked. By the way, keep shaving those sweet twats. I don’t like hair in my teeth.”

They stood there in shock over the last comment. “Get a move on. Don’t make me say it again. I would love to spank those bare bubble butts today.” They scooted into action immediately. I went up a flight to my bedroom and changed into some boxer shorts and a tank top. My clothes were getting quite tight. I had to tuck a serious woody under the waistband and cover it with the shirt.

Only with the strength of Hercules did I go to the office.

For the rest of this story, you need to Log In or Register