Chapter 4

Over the course of the next two weeks I got quite a few things accomplished. I rented a U-Haul truck and went to pick up the Civil War artifacts. After I had all of that stored carefully in my garage, I took care of selling the coins from that old tobacco tin. The coin sale went just like CO2 said it would, netting me fifteen hundred dollars. I asked for and received a cash payment from the coin dealer.

I took the nuggets over to the broker that the voices had recommended, but, because he turned out to be a thief, he and I didn't do any business. The trouble started as soon as he took the bag into another room to weigh my nuggets. When he came back to his desk, about five minutes later, I saw that he'd written down the number forty two on the paperwork he was starting to fill out. When I asked about the significance of that number, he tried telling me that this was approximately how much the gold would weigh after he had smelted it down to remove any impurities.

"You're going to melt the gold down? I thought we could sell it to jewelers who make that nugget jewelry?"

"Gold in bullion form is the easiest way to sell it. There isn't much of a market right now for this kind of gold in its natural state. Investors want to know the weight and purity of what they're buying. Even with this small amount of shrinkage, you should still end up with close to thirty thousand dollars. I can advance you ten of that today, and you'll get the rest after I have it sold, let's say one month from today."

I reached over and picked up the zip locked bag containing the gold. Once I had it, I stood up to leave.

<Frank, the bag is missing two nuggets. Their cumulative weight totals .5388 of a troy ounce.>

"I'd appreciate it if you would return those two nuggets you took out of my bag."

"I did no such thing. How dare you make such an accusation?"

<The nuggets have been sequestered in the watch pocket of his jeans. Do not allow him to steal from you.>

'How do you suggest I prevent it? If I call the police, he'll just say the nuggets he has belong to him. It will be my word against his.'

<I can immobilize him for you. Once he finds himself unable to move, it would be an easy thing for you to retrieve your rightful property.>

"Listen to me, Mr. Flanders, because I'm only going to tell you this one time. I'm no longer interested in doing any business with you. You are trying to cheat me, and you've already stolen some of my property. You have two choices here. Your first choice, and this is what I'd recommend to you, is to return my property, after which, I will leave your premises. The other choice is for you to continue to try to bluff your way out of trouble after I've called the police and reported this theft to them."

"If you don't leave my office right now, I'll be the one calling the police. You have no basis for accusing me of any wrongdoing."

"This could have been a profitable arrangement for both of us. You didn't need to act like this. Go ahead and call the police. I can identify those two missing nuggets."

He stood up and watched my face for a few seconds before leaving his office. He was back in less than a minute, holding both nuggets in his hand. He tried telling me some cock and bull story about the nuggets having rolled off his scales during their weighing, but he didn't even try to sell that story very hard. He assured me, while I was turning to leave, that it had been an innocent oversight, that he would never have deliberately withhold any of the gold from me. I took the nuggets, carefully placed them back in the bag, then left his office.

'Now what?'

<Now we travel a slightly farther distance and go see another gold broker. Do not get discouraged. There are honest brokers out there. We are looking for someone who can be trusted. Obviously that Flanders person does not meet that criteria. It is early yet, and our next stop is only half an hour from here. It is a man who has been in his profession for many years. That bodes well for him being an honest person.>

The second gold guy we went to was quite a bit older than the first had been. I took an immediate liking to him when he opened up the gold bag and examined each of the larger nuggets individually. He had something nice to say about every nugget he handled. When he weighed them, he weighed each nugget, individually, and wrote their weight on a sheet of paper before entering the number into his calculator. After about fifteen minutes, he'd come up with the same tally that CO2 had given me earlier, 43.76 Troy ounces.

I liked the way he described what he planned on doing, and showed me which nuggets could be sold for the highest premium above spot price. After everything had been discussed, I agreed to accept forty three thousand dollars for my gold. Instead of making me wait for my money, he wrote me out a company check on the spot. I knew he was paying me several hundred dollars more than CO2 had predicted I'd net. After we had concluded our business, he tried to get me to tell him where I had found the gold.

It turned out he'd long had the hobby of going gold prospecting. When I told him I'd found the gold wrapped in an animal skin pouch while out hiking, it really seemed to dampen his spirits. He told me I'd found more gold, accidentally, in one day of hiking, than he'd managed to take from the ground in fifty years of part time prospecting.

<There is a tiny stream about seventeen miles southwest of Hastings that contains enough gold in it to thrill most recreational prospectors. I have it on good authority that this particular deposit has never been worked by any other prospector. If you can borrow a piece of paper and something to write with, I'll help you draw him a map that should allow him to find this stream.>

'He doesn't look strong enough to be doing much prospecting still. How long a hike would it be? How much climbing would he need to be doing?'

<There is a state highway that runs to within two point three miles of the deposit. There is a scenic turnout within a quarter mile of the easiest direct route to where he should go in order to start panning for the gold flakes. I believe his health and stamina are adequate to manage whatever amount of walking and prospecting this would require. You should know that finding such a deposit would fulfill a lifelong ambition of his. For him, the main pleasure wouldn't be from the money he'd make with the gold, it would be mainly from the adventure of finding it, and of wresting it from the sandy bend where it has lodged itself.>

I asked Mr. Tracy for a pencil, and something to write on, making up a story about how I'd found a deposit in a stream while out on another hike, but, because I didn't have any prospecting equipment, or the time to do any gold panning, I hadn't disturbed the find. I told him he was more than welcome to drive out there and look around for himself, because I was too busy to do it, and because prospecting wasn't something I was much interested in doing.

CO2 was certainly right about how having the map to a possible new gold find had excited the man. He told me that he'd be taking some time away from his business very soon to go check out the deposit for himself. He was acting like a little kid at Christmas time as he held the map I'd drawn and began peppering me with questions about the landmarks I'd drawn on the map for him.

I left his office feeling good about having done business with Mr. Tracy. For me, turning those nuggets into the money I needed to get everything caught up again, had been the greatest pleasure. It would go a long way towards solving all my current financial woes. On the way back home, I stopped off at my bank and deposited Mr. Tracy's check in our personal checking account. Walking back to my car I had a feeling of great satisfaction. This feeling had largely been absent from my life ever since before my first contact with the voices.

It had taken the sale of the gold, and depositing the funds I'd received for it, to really convince me that this was real, and that I wasn't having another relapse into psychosis. I still wasn't certain that it wasn't all some very detailed dream, but, when I'd pinched myself, I'd felt sharp pain.

When Ginny and Kaitlyn came home at around six o'clock, I quickly filled her in on how the sales of the coins and the nuggets had gone. Ginny was as thrilled and excited as I was. Kaitlyn and I waited a few minutes for Ginny to get her clothes changed, then the three of us went out for a nice dinner at a good restaurant. I felt pretty good, watching my family out enjoying the same things other families were out enjoying.

One of the most noticeable changes in my life since Ginny and I had made up this last time, was the dramatic increase in her libido. We had made love fairly regularly before, usually at least two or three times a week, sometimes even more often. Usually though, it was two or three times in a week, because any more than that, and Ginny would start complaining that she wasn't an animal. That was before though. Suddenly, now, it was usually Ginny who would initiate things between us. She no longer seemed to think having a lot of sex meant she was acting like an animal. We were now having sex at least once a day, and often, more than once. I was still giving her my mental commands, but, increasingly, it was Ginny who came up with new things she wanted to try.

I had discovered that I could get CO2 to increase and decrease the size of my dick. The only time I had him decrease it though was the first few times Ginny and I tried anal sex. Surprisingly, the idea for this was something she had initiated on her own. I hadn't ever thought much about anal sex. I guess I'd been a little bit squeamish about the idea of it.

The idea for us having anal sex had initially come up on the first Saturday morning after Ginny and Kaitlyn returned from her mother's house. It all started when Ginny and I were going at it in the good old missionary position. We were already well started with our sexual activity, and I had been keeping one eye on her response thermometer, which was then hovering between seventy and seventy two. Like I said, we'd been at it, counting all the foreplay, for a minimum of forty five minutes.

By the time we were started kissing that morning, Ginny's needle was already up there at around thirty five or so. She seemed to wake up now a lot more ready for us to fool around than she had ever been before. She was also a lot more receptive to almost everything I wanted to do with her too. Not all of this was because of the commands I'd given her. Her skill level for giving blow jobs had risen quite quickly. Now that she was really getting into doing that, the whole experience had become much more pleasurable for both of us.

Anyway, I had her in the missionary position, with her ass lifted up and supported by both my hands. She had already gotten her pussy used to my new and improved cock, and I was noticing it didn't feel quite as snug as it had been before she had learned to relax around it. I wasn't even thinking of anything in particular when I needed to adjust the way my hands were supporting her weight. When I finished moving how my hands were placed, my left index finger had kind of settled into a place that was right on her butt hole.

I first started noticing a difference because her pussy did this little clenching thing around my dick. Right after that, I felt some tiny little movements, like gentle squeezing's, coming from her rosebud, which was now directly underneath my finger. None of that would have particularly registered with me, not if it wasn't for her needle suddenly shooting up from where it had been, at seventy one, all the way up past eighty.

Shooting up is a good description of what happened too. One second it was bumping back and forth from seventy one to seventy three, and the next second, boom, it's at eighty, and a second later, at eighty two.

I moved the finger away from her butt, but still maintained the same pace and rhythm I'd been doing before. Her needle dropped back down, to about seventy eight, then down again to seventy four, which is where it then stabilized.

For some reason, after noticing her needle dropping like that, I brought my finger back to where it had been before I moved it, and put it even more firmly up against her butt hole. It took about half a second after I did this for her needle to go shooting right back up again. When I took the finger away again, it stayed up for a few seconds, but then dropped back down to seventy seven. I felt like I'd found a new toy for me to play with.

The next time I put my finger on her little rosebud, I dug it in a little ways, not much, just barely enough so the nail part was inside her sphincter. Her pussy started clenching right up again, causing the needle to shoot back up. This time, before I could move my finger away, she started cumming. While she was cumming, I tried moving my finger around a little. This was the first time I'd ever felt her pussy spasm around my cock in orgasm.

Of course, having that happen set me off like a Roman candle, and I ended up splashing her with my load. She ended up cumming for a long time, maybe a minute. After, she kept having these little aftershocks. Each one was just enough to prevent my prick from shrinking back like it normally would have been doing right after I came.

When I finally rolled off of her, I could see that Ginny was embarrassed. Before I started getting help from the voices, I would have interpreted this embarrassment of hers as a strong signal she was giving me to not do anything like that to her again.

Without my having seen her increased excitement registered on the tachometer, caused by having her ass played with, I would have just assumed she hadn't liked what I'd done to her back there. But, having seen her love needle topping out at a new all time high of eighty seven, I knew she'd liked what I'd done to her ass. I checked though, just in case.

'She really liked having her ass hole played with, right?'

<It is a very sensitive erogenous area for her. It has long been a special place of interest for her those times when she masturbates. She also enjoys placing objects inside her anus.>

'I never knew she liked that. She sure never mentioned it to me.'

<All part of her sexual inhibitions. Did you notice that this session marked a new high on her sexual response meter?>

'Eighty seven, I know. She didn't waste any time getting there from the low seventies either. If I'd known about this earlier, I could have probably gotten her cumming from me fucking her long before now.'

I felt Ginny moving down to my middle, and was surprised when she started sucking on my mostly limp dick. I saw that her needle had already climbed back up into the middle forties after having dropped down into the low thirties when I had thought we were finished. I was enjoying her efforts to get me hard again when I noticed one of Ginny's hands between her closed legs. I started rubbing one of my hands over her back, trailing my fingers lightly over her skin, from up by her neck to down on her butt cheeks.

I watched her needle climbing steadily higher as I did this. After a few minutes, maybe three or four, Ginny's legs became more opened, and I saw for the first time that she hadn't been playing with her pussy. Instead, I saw two of her fingers in her ass, and watched as she slowly sawed them in and out of her. It looked pretty sexy as she did that to herself. It also looked, to me, like her fingers were not strangers to her ass hole. Her actions seemed practiced. I knew for a fact though that she wasn't used to frigging her ass with her fingers while she was sucking on my dick.

Ginny, by my command, I want you to start wanting my big dick in your ass. Whenever you put your fingers in your ass, I want you to think about how much better it would be if it was my cock fucking your ass instead. The more you think about this, the more you will start to feel like you need for it to happen.

The only reaction I felt was Ginny started sucking a little harder, and started trying to swallow even more of my dick. Her fingers also started thrusting harder, and her needle moved up past seventy seven. Right after that, she started cumming. All the while she was cumming though, she kept right on sucking, and kept working those fingers of hers in her ass. I didn't cum again, but I was sure enjoying what her mouth was doing to me.

A few days after that, while Ginny and I were curled up together on the couch, Ginny brought up the subject of anal sex for the first time.

"Frank, remember the other day, that thing you did, putting your finger in my back hole?"

"Of course I remember. I remember the blow job you gave me afterwards too, and what you were doing with your own fingers while you sucked me."

"I only did that because what you had done felt so strange. Did you like touching me there?"

"Sure. I like touching you anywhere, as long as it gets you excited."

"You don't think its dirty?"

"I don't know. We both washed our hands anyway. The important this was you liked it."

"I wish we'd had this happen and talked about it before your pecker grew so darn big."

"You don't like my new pecker?"

"No, I like it just fine. Can't you tell? Its just too big for back there now, you know what I mean? It would hurt me now, and it might even tear something if we tried to do anything."