Copyright© 2003

A certain young sheik of Algiers
Said to his harem, "My dears,
Though you may think it odd of me,
I'm tired of just sodomy
Let's try straight fucking." (loud cheers!)

I do not remember where or when it started. At least, not to the exact day or even the week. Yet I do remember the specific day that it started for just my family and I.

Some called it a biological terror, others called it a chemical attack - all would agree that it did more damage to the whole world than anyone could have ever conceived. Some related what happened to a meteor causing the end of the dinosaurs - I shall let you decide for yourself.

It started for me, in the news long before most of us realized what we were reading or watching. Snippets about water supplies being turned off without any reason or how men in white suits and surgical masks, with the armed forces as backup, came to haul away families from whole blocks. Rumours were more frequent than fact - and rarely could two people talk without it becoming the main topic of conversation.

The terror started about then - when there was uncertainty and fear. In large groups, people did not talk about it - in private they looked to god or found consolation in some other way. Our mood simply changed from concern to fear as we saw that the whole world was affected. No one was exempt and the unknown left humanity trembling in fear.

The men in white suits stopped their appearances eventually, the news reports changed slowly from one of defense to acceptance, and the world that we knew altered to what many started to call the 'Age Of X'.

There was even the proposal of starting a new yearly calendar - scientists pontificating that our species had radically changed and that we should accept and adapt to that change. I have to tell you, I saw a lot of agreement to those arguments. That decision, though, would be made regardless of what I thought.

I am getting ahead of my tale - my personal account of those early days when my existance changed... the lives of those around me changed and the whole world changed with us. Perhaps someone, somewhere, may read this someday and know just a little of what my life was like - as I am sure it was mirrored a million times throughout the globe. The strange thing is, I found myself actually enjoying this change in our lives and, like many men that I knew, found that this new Age of X was not so terrible.

I was one of the last of my peers to continue to attend my classes at the university. I lived on campus though my home was barely an hours drive from school. I saw my mates leave in small batches, returning to their families in these difficult times - none returned and none sent back word. It was strangely quiet - no news. Though I did not return home immediately when the rumours started - the calls to my mother seemed to solidify my hope that my family and I were immune to what was happening around us. Of course that was my youthful naive nature - that I did not realize, none of us could, that no one was safe.

When that call did come I was trembling in fear from what I could find as I took the near-empty train home. Mother had called in the middle of the previous night and it was not her words but the sound of her voice that scared me - that told me that this horrible thing that was happening around the world had indeed hit my family.

At that point in my life I did not really understand what it was - what the effects of it were. Oh certainly the females faces that I was familiar with started to disappear long before the news reports started to mention female humans were being voted out of this position, fired from that job and just not showing up in the normal day to day positions of their lives. The exact reason was not mentioned - so I understood that the changes to our species was only hitting the females of all ages. Those changes were not stated and it felt, up to that train ride home, that it was a widely known secret that I was not allowed to share in.

The short walk from the train station was the hardest and longest of my life - as my mind was formulating all sorts of things that my mother and sisters were undergoing. I did understand that they would not look any different - that I was not going to be facing two scabby and grotesque people that, in my short twenty years, were the two most attractive women that I knew.

So as I reached for the door handle of my home, my hand sweaty and trembling fiercely. The months of stress, hearing the rumours and suggestive news reports, all lead up to this moment.

What awaited was startling - as my thirteen year old sister Georgina came bounding around the corner and smashed into me, her arms and legs wrapping around me in a tight full-bodied hug. "Oh Gill... I am so glad you are home!"

I dropped my bag and hugged her back, after my initial, but pleased, surprise was overcome. After a lengthy hug, I pulled away first and looked into her eyes - trying to see how the horror may have affected her. All that looked back at me was ecstatic happiness - her wide smile a soothing balm on my soul.

Mother came around the corner about that moment - smiling happily and dressed to perfection. "Honey, I am so glad you're home!"

My wildly beating heart started to calm - whatever was happening out in the world had not hit my family. Something else must have caused my mother to call me up in the middle of the night - begging me to return to her. Never had I heard her sounding so desperate... so pathetic.

Charlotte came up behind mom - also dressed to perfection - wearing a wide very happy smile of her own. The three sets of female eyes were looking at me expectantly, happily.

Mom broke the minute-long awkward silence by motioning to Charlotte, "Take your brothers bag up to the room honey."

Charlotte jumped forward, her eyes looking at me happily until she went around the corner with my luggage. My eighteen year-old sister and I had never gotten along - loud verbal fights filled our home for years, as we were always at odds. It was just a little strange that she willingly, and silently, helped me by taking my bag upstairs. Perhaps my family was also enduring stress from this new Age of X - perhaps I should have come home weeks ago to face this threat to humanity together?

"Georgina - go finish making the table please."

"Yes mother!" My youngest sister backed out of the room, her smile infectious and she practically swooned with joy when I smiled back.

"Would you like to come sit with me in the living room honey?"

Why not? Now that my fear was ninety percent subdued, perhaps it was the time to talk with my mother to see why she had called me home. Perhaps, like some of the guys that had left my dorm at school, returning home not because of something that happened but because something may happen. "Sure mom."

Her smile widened when I nodded my acceptance - and she followed me into the living room with the clicking of her black heels on the hard wood floor echoing loudly through the lower floor of my family home.

I sat forwards on the firm couch and was surprised when mother sat directly next to me, her white nylon covered knees touching my denim thighs, almost facing me perpendicular. Having not thought about it, I realized I had subconsciously assumed she would sit in the soft wide chair across from me. It was traditionally where we had our mother-son talks as I grew up.

Mother reached out with both hands and grasped my leg at mid-thigh. That fear within me started to rekindle yet again as things looked OK at first glance, but there was something different about my family that I could not yet put my finger on.

Mom spoke first, "Thank you Gill... for coming home to us." There was so much barely repressed emotion in that short sentence that it surprised me - mother had always been a cool, reserved woman as I ws growing up. An unemotional strict disciplinarian that brokered no room for more than one dominant voice in her house.

When I looked up from the hands holding my thigh, up to her face, I was surprised that mother's eyes were tear-filled, proof that my ears had not deceived me. I merely mumbled something incomprehensible.

She took a deep swallow and then asked, "Did you think Charlotte looked good in her new dress? She purchased it especially for you Gill."

Charlotte and I had always been at odds and never, ever, did we consider what the other thought of in terms of apparel or even general appreciation for that matter. I mumbled, still a little stunned, "She looked fine mother."

Mom nodded in agreement. "She has the figure for it!" I could hear the distant jealous appreciation in mothers voice and it added to the growing knot of fear and uncertainty in my stomach. My eldest sister had a curvy body with large breasts, small waist and wide hips - while mother was the opposite. "Your sister hoped you would notice that she was not wearing a bra?"

"What?" My question blurted out before I even thought about it. And in fact, I had not noticed. Oh sure, growing up I realized that my younger sister was turning into a very sexy woman - the curves in all the right places, the sensuality coming natural to her - yet my sibling-hate overshadowed any thoughts that my eyes may have conjured.

Mother did not acknowledge my question but seemed anxious to add, "I wish I had half the body that your sister has honey - so you would notice that I did not wear a bra, or panties, for you either." She put on this juvenile pout, her eyes fluttering at me so that I considered this all had to be a malicous joke.

I should call mother on this jest - not so much testing her absurd comments but telling her that this was not like her and so it had to be a joke - but that long-standing fear of the unknown was gnawing at me. Mother was blinking her eyelids as if she was a teenage girl trying to get the boy across the lunchroom to notice her. That, alone, was so alien, so out of this fucking world that I only sat silent and stared, firmly, at my own mother.

It was then, though my peripheral vision, that I realized that through her white silk blouse I did, indeed, see the dark round hint of her tiny nipples. It was so startling that I actually looked down from mothers blinking eyes directly to her chest - seeing that her small, near flat, bosom were topped with very pointed hard small nipples.

As I starred, mother shoved her shoulders further back and thrust out her chest so that those nipples jerked directly toward me, pressing insistantly against her blouse. I could see that they were as thick as an eraser on a pencil and stuck out nearly a full centimetre.

Charlotte's impossibly high heels warned me before she entered the living room and I immediately turned away from mother, my face burning with shame from where my eyes had been locked. Mother had, of course, seen me staring and had said nothing.

I carefully looked toward my sister, trying hard to fight the urge to again look at my mother, at her chest and those sexy nipples. I saw that my eighteen year-old sibling was a very beautiful teenager - not the tall thin body of our mother at all, but the round sexy curves of a Greek goddess. She had also worn a very short dress that showed her sexy, if not long like our mothers, legs. My sister wore black nylons, a one-piece black dress that ended barely, mid-thighs, and that was sleeveless and had a wide-neck. From her movements and simply because her huge breasts were so obvious, I now realized what mother had told me was true.

Charlotte had noticed that I was looking at her and seemed to slow down, as she walked toward the chair across from mother and I like she was walking the ramp at a fashion show. Almost in slow motion, my sister lowered herself in mother's chair and then carefully crossed her legs. She too was sitting straight so that her huge chest thrust out obnoxiously toward me. Her pose was obviously for me. Her eyes fluttering demurely as mothers had earlier.

I realized, then, with almost a blurt of maniacal laugher, that I could not see her nipples like I had with mothers'. Since my sister's dress was not transparent like mother's blouse. The laughter quickly died out as I realized there was nothing humourous here - the horror of my bad dreams must be true.

It was mother, again, that broke the silence - thick as it was, "Charlotte and I have been going crazy these last few days and we appreciate that you came home early from school to be with us honey."

From the calls these last few weeks mother had expressed fear at what was happening around us - but a firm resolve that we, as a family, would endure. It was pure mom. It was that single call last night that her tone and words had changed - nothing overt mind you, but enough to get me on the first train home. For one, she no longer had that stubborn resolve that our family would endure. In fact with her voice trembling almost as if she were about to break out crying, mother had asked me to come home. When I did not answer immediately, she asked again and in a voice that can only be described as begging... to return to her and my sisters. That was not the voice of the woman I had grown up with.

My head turned back to mother and I had to forcibly keep my eyes above her chin so they did not drift back down to her chest and those thick sexy nipples. "Are you and the girls OK mom?"

Mom laughed lightly, using one thin hand to brush her blond hair from her eyes, "I have never felt more... alive!"

I turned quickly to Charlotte to see her nodding in agreement. Even that small movement caused her bountiful bosoms to roll about her chest and I quickly turned back to mother. It seemed safer and mother had always been the source of information in our home.

The question that I had feared since the phone had first rung the night before came finally to my lips, "Has it happened here mom?"

"Has what happened here honey?" Mother leaned forward and I realized that two buttons at the top of her blouse had magically become undone - possibly while I had stared at my sisters' entrance. Mother's sheer blouse was now open all the way to her sternum. There was not much revealed, with mothers small breasts, but I realized I was again staring at the pale skin of her chest and, of course, those nipples through her blouse. Odd that I had not even noticed mother removing her hands from my thigh - I must be more stunned that I thought.

It was Georgina that broke the latest tense moment, "Gill could I get you something?"

Almost thankfully I quickly tore my eyes from mother and looked over my shoulder where my youngest sister stood in the entrance to the dining room. "I could really use some water sis?" Hell, I could use a beer! But drinking alcohol was out of the question in mother's house.

"Coming right up big brother!" She practically bounced back into the dining room, and there, to the kitchen. Georgina had always been a bright personality, full of energy and life, but she had her own life - and had never seen a reason to even give her older brother, by seven years, a second look. So this request was also out of character.

Charlotte asked from behind me, me almost too afraid to look at the two eldest ladies in my family to turn back around on the couch, "Now that your home Gill - you will be staying won't you?" There was a note of desperation in her question - both odd coming from my normally stuck up sister.

It was mom that answered while I turned, reluctantly, facing forward on the couch, "Charlotte - your brother will stay if he wants too!" The voice reminiscent of that woman that had borne me all my life - stern and leaving no room for discussion.

"Yes, of course mother." Charlotte seemed a little embarrassed at mothers not-so-subtle chastising. Mother had never stood up for me in any of our sibling arguments in the past. Being the oldest had been hard beneath mother's roof - and looking like dad, I wondered if her hate for him transcended towards her only son. "I forgot mother."

That seemed to strike a warning alarm in my head, "'Forgot' what Charlotte?"

Mother answered yet again, as if not trusting my eldest sister to say a word, "Your sister Charlotte, honey, is a very beautiful girl that just radiates desire - but she has the seductive intelligence of a cow."

Since I have never seen my sister with a guy, let alone seen her try and seduce someone, I could not comment. There was an invisible hand in my chest, squeezing my heart and I had no idea what it foretold.

"If I was your sister's age and had a body like hers, sitting across from her big brother in that very sexy dress, I would uncross my legs and let him see up my skirt!"

Charlotte, as I watched, had red cheeks - from shame, embarrassment or excitement, I could not venture a guess. Yet, as I sat there stunned and silent, Charlotte slowly, the nylon loud in the large cavernous living room, uncrossed her legs and then carefully spread her knees. I saw then, that she was not wearing the normal nylons that I have only ever been aware of - but thigh-high stockings of the types women in those magazines wore. Through the shadows between my sisters thighs I could not see what my eyes unconsciously squinted to see.

Again directed at my eldest sister, "I told you Charlotte, that there is no need to be a 'lady' with your brother." That was a word I had heard time and time again in my house, as I grew up. Not directed at me, of course, but my sisters - ever since I could remember - had been trained to be a 'lady', in the mould that mother had aways strived for.

It felt as if things about me were going in slow motion as I turned my head back toward mother; now seeing that her knee-length leather skirt had been pulled up to a point just above her white elastic stocking tops. The sheer blouse had also been unbuttoned all the way to her waist.

There was no underwear in evidence on either my mother or sister.

This was more than I have ever seen of mother or my sister in all the years that I lived in this large house. Nudity was forbidden and simply not something that was tolerated, in any form, in our home. The length of Charlotte's hem-line had been higher than I have ever seen - more of her sexy legs than I have ever noticed - even before the spreading of her legs. We had never even gone to a pool or beach together - our vacations were to places that taught us culture and finesse - museums and churches in Europe, for the most part.

There was little question in my mind that whatever was going on in my house was directly tied to the virus, or infection, that was sweeping the world. It was affecting the females of the species they had said, but no one ever said they had lost their inhibitions and acted so out of sorts.

"You see honey", I looked up into mothers soft smile and intense eyes - as if she were playing poker and was afraid if she blinked she may loose, "your sisters and I love you very much."

I was about to tell her that I loved her as well - that she should do up her blouse and pull down her skirt, that she did not need to do whatever she thought she was doing. Yet mother was not finished, "Since your father died years ago Gill - you are the only man in our lives honey. When...", she shivered slightly in that second before continuing, "... when we realized things had... changed, we prayed that you would come home to take care of us. We were so scared that you would not want to return."

Again my head turned to Charlotte, to see that her skirt had been pulled all the way to her waist and she now had one leg hung over the arm of the big chair. I now had an unobstructed view between her legs; the black lace strip of cloth that covered her sex. It was so enchanting that I did not turn my head, out of embarrassment or otherwise, as I asked mother, "What do you mean take care of you mother?" It was the question that I thought of as she said that word - for all our lives, mother had been the adult, the strict, cold, distant woman that directed our every waking moment with a stern hand. The thought of anyone, let alone her own child, taking care of her seemed absurd to me.

Mother laughed nervously, "You really have no conception what is happening here do you honey?" She did not say this sternly or maliciously; she genuinely was asking the question.

Georgina, ever the precocious one entered the living room carrying a sweating tall glass of water. I realized, as she handed it to me, that she was wearing her normal well-worn jeans and tea-shirt over her thin body. Odd as it was, her usual attire was strange at that moment and I frowned as I looked at my youngest sister normal clad body. She, on the other hand, seemed in no way put out by my look and only smiled brightly at me - seemingly happy to be looked upon so boldly by her big brother.

Since my head was turned away from mother, as I looked at Georgina, her voice was practically behind me. "Georgina, Gill honey, has not hit puberty yet - so the full brunt of this... 'thing'... has not affected her. Not like Charlotte and I at least."

I realized what mom was saying and knew how terribly important this was and turned back to her. Even as she spoke, she had one of her hands beneath the open front of her blouse - through the sheer fabric I could see her index finger slowly rubbing her small hard nipple.

Mother now had my attention and she had to know how much I needed to understand what was going on, "Oh, she will do anything her big brother asks her to do - of course, even... but she does not ache for you like Charlotte or I do Gill."

For the first time since sitting down and noticing mothers sheer blouse, my eyes moved from each of the ladies in my family without paying any attention to their bodies or clothing. I could not be hearing this correctly - that my comprehension of what mother was suggesting was so crazy that I had to be nuts to even consider my interpretation. There had to be another reason mother was acting this way, saying these things.

It was Georgina that my eyes finally settled on, feeling that she was the closet to 'normal' in this house full of women. "What is this all about sis?"

My youngest sister laughed heartily and bounced on her toes - as if happy to be in my attention and at being included in the conversation. "You should hear mom and Charlotte these last few days Gill - crying and moaning for you! Planning for your return! Even going at each other... telling each other what they were going to do if you were with them... getting so hot that they had to be together!"

That statement coming from a bubbly early-teenager, it felt like I was surrounded by aliens. "You mean they have been having sex with each other?" I would, could, never ask that question if not for mothers near-undress and my sisters spread legs and braless chest.

Without a shred of embarrassment Georgina burst out laughing, "Oh god yes Gill! You should see them - when they were not planning or talking about you, they had their hands or faces between each others legs!"

"Georgina!"

I spun again toward mother, almost angry, to face her embarrassed red skin of her face and upper chest. "Don't tell her to shut up mother - at least she is telling me how it is!"

Mother's mouth had been open but at my stern words, snapped it shut and looked down to her white stocking covered thighs, even her hand slipped as if forgotten from beneath her blouse.

It was Charlotte that stood up for mother, "Gill, please understand... ? Even thinking about you had us so hot - and when we learnt we were both feeling the same way... it just seemed natural to... help each other." When I turned back to my eldest sister, I saw that her thigh had dropped from the arm of the chair and her knees were again pressed together.

The anger overshadowed my stunned mind, and I blurted out, "Well? Did it 'help'?"

Georgina let out a sudden laugh and in a light manner answered, "If watching them was any indication - I would say it only helped for a very short while!" Though I could not find the humour in her words, I did not turn my anger toward my youngest sister.

The silence, after Georgina's laugh ebbed away, was very thick and very lengthy. I glared at the two half-exposed women and ignored my younger sister - my confusion, my fear and my anger mixing me up so much that I was at loss for words.

It was, strangely, Charlotte that broke the silence, "We fucked this up didn't we Gill?" Though it was the first swear word that I have ever heard spoken in this house, let alone in front of my mother, it only barely registered.

Mother, her fear and sadness obvious in her voice, blurted out, "Please don't leave us honey! Give us another chance?" My own parent was begging me, pleading with me - and I was only partially aware of why.

Georgina gasped out when mother said 'leave us' and spoke up with fear in her voice, "Oh my god Gill... I am so sorry!" She started to sob loudly and I turned to see the tears flowing freely from her eyes.

This was all too much - the strange actions, the odd words... the exposed flesh... ! I shook my head like a wet dog and then clenched my eyes closed. "Georgina and Charlotte - would you both go to your rooms please?"

I heard the click of Charlotte's heels and the bare feet of my youngest sister as they moved out of the room. When I heard them disappear up the stairs - feeling confident that they had done as asked - I then requested, "Mom, go sit where Charlotte had been! And for gods sake - cover up!"

I felt the couch shift as she stood, the few clicks of her heels and then the compression of the big seat as she sat across from me.

When I opened my eyes - we were alone and she was seated, as I had requested. Her eyes were wide with fear and it appeared that she was fighting back tears. Mother sat on the edge of the chair with her back straight, her thin knees together, her black leather skirt pulled back down into place, and both her hands clenching the still unbuttoned blouse closed. She looked, I admit, gorgeous and vulnerable. That, in itself, was a strange admission on my part.

"Now that we are alone mother - tell me what the heck has been going on in this house!" Even now, I could not use any swear word stronger than 'heck' - it was almost comical if not downright insane.

In a voice that was reminiscent of a less-confusing time, when mother would sit across from me in that very chair and tell me how much I looked like father, how proud of my grades she was, how relieved she was that I was going to University and how to protect myself from predatory girls my own age. There was something new though; perhaps it was only my newfound awareness - but mother looked more attractive. Hell, downright sexy! Sure she had dressed to perfection and had applied just the right amount of makeup to highlight her best facial features - but it was something else. It was like there was a spark within her - a glow that definitely agreed with her. Don't get me wrong - there was no mistaken her age of forty-three years, but she had something that guys my age thought was very rare - a sexy natural nature that any guy who looked upon her could not care how old she was. "Where do you want me to start Gill?"

Where to start indeed? From the beginning? No I did not have the patience for that long-winded a story. "Is everything that I have heard today true mom?"

Her eyes were facing the hard wood floor at her feet and she nodded affirmatively.

"You and Charlotte are... lesbians?" That word was so nuts, especially when I was talking to and about my mother.

The answer surprised me. "No Gill we are not." Her voice was tiny and she sounded as if she was defeated.

"What about what Georgina was saying?"

She swallowed thickly before answering, "We... I noticed how the other ladies in the neighbourhood started to act 'funny'. Like the men they lived with were becoming the central part of their lives - nothing else mattered."

I nodded, thankful that I did not have to drag this tale out of her, and motioned for her to continue. I needed to hear this!

"You may not realize it but we are the only house on the block that has no man in it - perhaps that is why it took so long for it to happen to us." I took a long swallow, to hide my nerves, of my water cup. "But all too soon, I realized that my work did not matter - even catching Mr. Witherspoon, next door, having sex with three of his granddaughters all at the same time just did not matter." That was a disgusting thought - Mr. Witherspoon was something like fifty eight - but looked at least ten years older. His granddaughters though, they were lookers! What the hell was I thinking - he having sex with his own kin, thats disgusting... right? "The only thing that mattered - your sisters and I came to learn - was you." Mother stole a quick look up, revealed nothing in her gaze and then looked back down at the floor before her heels.

"It was Georgina", the brighter of the two sisters I may add, "that guessed that we had been hit by whatever was in the news - that it somehow turned us toward the patriarch of our family. When she told me that - I looked closer at our neighbours and knew it was true - the ladies of the neighbourhood had turned into harem-like-sluts for the oldest males in their families. But it was I that realized that Georgina was not 'hit' the same way as Charlotte or I - that she was as submissive as us, but it lacked the burning sexuality that now haunted your older sister and I."