Chapter 3

Matthew awoke the next morning to the soft orange glow of the early morning sunrise, knowing that it must be no later than 6 a.m. for the time of year, and yawned deeply while stretching, his tall, lean body contorting into interesting positions as each muscle flexed and relaxed - one of those morning stretches that somehow rejuvenates a body more than any coffee ever could. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, reached for his pants, and pulled them on before casually strolling from the bedroom into the small dining area of the cabin. He chuckled heartily at the scene before him, that of the two enchanting women eating healthy portions of bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

Rebecca smiled at him with a simple "Good morning," but Melissa quirked an eyebrow with a questioning grin on her beautiful face and asked, "What's so funny, Sir?"

"Nothing, really," he replied casually. "I just sort of assumed you were both vegetarians."

It was now Rebecca's turn to laugh, and then she said, "It's a safe assumption, but you have to remember, we're from a time when all we had was bread and meat ... some habits die hard. Besides, the world needs balance." With the last statement, she took a large bite of a piece of bacon and chewed it happily, a playful grin shining at Matthew, who promptly sat at the table beside Melissa.

He reached for the food, but Melissa's hand arrived there first. She served him healthy portions of each breakfast item and a large glass of orange juice before returning to her meal. He watched her curiously, wondering briefly why she had served him when her submission to him was in no way anything more than very basic, but she quickly noticed the interested look on his face and said, somewhat giggling at the same time, "As my Mistress said, some habits die hard."

He smiled and nodded, the smell of the food overtaking his higher brain functions until he was nothing but a hungry man, and he attacked the food. His meals were generally much larger than last night's snack of fruit and vegetables, so he was naturally very hungry. Both women paused their own meals to watch him, both with pleasant smiles on their lips and sparkling eyes intent on him. He finished his full plate quickly and began to serve himself another helping when he realized how he uncouth he must look by devouring a meal in such a way. Always vigilant, the women noticed the embarrassment on his flushing cheeks, but his actions fazed neither of them.

"Oh, don't be so proper. We love watching a hungry man eat," Rebecca said casually while Melissa took over her serving duties again, relieving his hand of the serving spoon and filling his plate with another portion.

Having satiated his extreme hunger, he ate more slowly while the ladies talked, listening intently to the playful tones of their voices. Somewhere in his mind the scene he was living felt perfect, a sense of destiny, but the somewhat ignorant man in him sat happily enjoying his luck at meeting these amazing women. His reverie broke, though pleasantly, as Melissa spoke to him.

"It wasn't luck."

"Er, uh... " he stuttered, a memory of the previous night's hints at mind reading flashing through his brain.

Both women laughed delicately at some unspoken joke, and his confusion showed clearly on his face with his brows tilted inward and his mouth hanging half open. "We really can't read minds, my dear," Rebecca said through her giggles. "We just have a lot of experience with men." For some reason his heart dropped as she said that, but it went unnoticed by the women as they continued their playful banter.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Melissa asked as she rose from the table to begin cleaning the breakfast mess.

"I think we should take Matthew somewhere special," Rebecca replied casually, Melissa's response being a soft smile and nod.

"I think I'd follow you two anywhere," said the well-fed man.

"Well, that's settled then. Time for a bath," Rebecca said, rising from the table and heading towards the bedroom.

Melissa called to her, "Shall I help you, Mistress?"

"No, my pet," came the reply from the other room. "You keep our guest company. I'll be out shortly."

Matthew glanced over his shoulder, a glimpse of a nude dark-haired goddess among women sinking into a steaming tub catching his eye through the open doorways between himself and the bathroom. "Beautiful, isn't she?" Melissa asked quietly, noticing his gaze.

"Very..." was his reply. "So are you."

She flushed lightly at his compliment, "Thank you, Sir." He smiled at her quaint modesty as he remembered thinking earlier in his life that one of the greatest qualities rich and powerful people could ever have is modesty, or at least a sense of humility, and here was this incredible woman in possession of both. He sat quietly while watching her clean the dishes one at a time in the warm, soapy water, rinse them, and set them on the drying rack to the side. Her motions were methodical but fluid, resembling practice, training, and delight in performing them all mixed together.

"May I ask you a serious question?"

"Of course, Sir, anything."

He paused for a moment before asking, "Last night, after, well, you know, Rebecca seemed almost angry when she said she wouldn't stop a natural disaster, which I'm assuming she could, and you as well. Why is that?"

Melissa paused, the question seeming to either catch her off her guard or strike a nerve. He was unsure which, but he waited for a response, hoping he would get one, and then it came, though her voice was a shade darker. "My Mistress does not enjoy death. I remember sitting with her many years ago and watching a volcano erupt. Thousands of people were killed, homes lost, country sides and farming land destroyed. She cried the entire time we watched, but when it was over, she said calmly "Mother knows best' and then led me away."

"So she disagrees with some things 'Mother' does?" He asked with some trepidation.

"Yes and no," she answered. "She always agrees with the decisions our Mistress makes, but sometimes we have trouble dealing with the effects. Our power comes from life, the force deep inside every living thing that allows them to live. Seeing that force taken away makes us sad, but that doesn't mean it's not right in the grand scheme."

"I see," he said quietly, resting his chin on his hands.

"She says you understand quickly. If you can adjust your way of thinking to work outside of what you knew yesterday and use it to effect how you will think and act tomorrow, you're about three hundred years ahead of me."

Matthew smiled at the well-timed compliment mixed with mild joking. "I've always felt like something in my life was missing. Perhaps it was you, this, all of this," he said to her, his hand gesturing in a wide circle at the room and the world around him that he was becoming aware of.

"It's possible. Maybe it's just knowledge you need. Maybe you'll leave us someday and find your own way. Maybe you'll stay with us. Whatever happens, our only worry is that you master whatever abilities you have before you end up hurting people like I did."

"It only happened once, my love," said Rebecca as she entered the room at the tail end of the conversation. She continued speaking directly to Matthew, "I said last night that her compassion is one of her finer qualities, but her remorse remains."

Matthew began to speak, but Melissa sputtered out, "It's not wrong to remember what I did."

"Careful, my pet," Rebecca said warningly. "We've had this conversation. I'm not attacking you; I just wish you could let it go."

Melissa nodded, her back still turned to her companions as she finished the dishes, politely excusing herself and heading for her own bath as Rebecca settled into her chair across from Matthew.

"No relationship goes without its troubles," she said matter-of-factly to him, her deep green eyes squared with his green and browns.

"If I may, I agree with her. The memory of it is probably a large part of what fuels her compassion, though I'm no psychologist. I just think it's healthy to shed a tear now and again for mistakes made and, in her case, lives taken." His stern gaze never wavered from hers as he spoke, and surprisingly, she turned her gaze first as if in recognition of his dominance. He tucked that detail into his mind for later.

"You're right. It does strengthen her in a way, but you must surely realize that seeing that flash of sadness on her face breaks my heart even after hundreds of years."

"Fair enough. I hope that wasn't awkward for either of you, me hearing that, I mean."

Rebecca smiled and her chest heaved just barely as one soft chuckle rushed in and out of her lungs before she spoke, "If she has her way, we'll have many more awkward moments together."

Just as she finished speaking, Melissa entered the room, humming softly to herself as she tied her long, chestnut hair into a ponytail. "Your turn, Sir."

Matthew nodded and headed for the bathroom. He was surprised to see a shower head since both the women had bathed, and turned the faucets to start the water flow and adjust the water temperature. After dropping his pants to the floor, he stepped into the shower and immediately began to soap himself while he absently thought about everything that had happened in the last few days. As he began to massage the soap into his groin and onto his cock, memories of the previous night entered his mind and his massive organ responded. With one hand on the shower wall for balance, the other hand began to slide up and down the length of his inflating member while his eyes closed. He started and abruptly released his cock as Melissa's voice distracted his thoughts from very close by.

"Please don't. You'll need that energy later," she cooed softly from the bathroom door, which he had never closed. Before turning to leave she flashed him a soft smile. He quickly finished his shower, dried himself, and dressed.