My Parent's Estate
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, MaleDom, Light Bond, Gang Bang, Oral Sex, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young woman's parents are killed in an accident on the day she graduates from college. As she goes through their belongings later she finds that she didn't know her parents quite as well as she thought she did.
One of the happiest days of my life was followed immediately by the saddest, most tragic day of my life. My parents drove up to see me graduate from college. My magical four years was over. They watched me cross the stage with my classmates and then we had a nice dinner in a great restaurant in town. I loved my parents deeply. They were my best friends and always had been. I was an only child and there had never been any question that I was loved.
I went to a college in the northern part of the state. My parents lived four hours away in the southern tip of the state. I tried to get them to stay over that night, spend the night in a motel and drive home in the morning. But they were anxious to get home. The owner of the company that dad worked for was on an extended business trip in China and he had left dad in charge. So they left right after dinner.
I had some packing to finish up and I was going to drive down the next day. After my parents left I went to a couple of parties long enough to say goodbye to some people I had gotten close to over the last four years. Then I went back to my small apartment and finished packing.
I was twenty years old and my life was almost perfect. I was going to take a little time off and live with my parents for a few months before I went back and got my Master's Degree.
Early the next morning I threw the last of my things in the back of my Volvo station wagon and got a cup of coffee at McDonald's. I got on the Interstate and headed for home. I didn't have any immediate plans. My parents had offered to pay for a trip to Europe or a cruise and I planned to see what my options were before deciding.
I got to my parent's house just before lunch time. They weren't home so I went in and had a sandwich and tried calling them on their cell phones to find out where they were and when they were coming home.
I had seen the light blinking on the answering machine but I didn't expect any calls here so I ignored it. It wasn't until the phone rang an hour later that I found out that my parents were not coming home. They had been killed by a drunk driver on the way home yesterday evening.
I didn't faint. I just went into shock. I remember dropping the phone and having to sit down. I had suddenly become aware of how quickly the world was spinning and I no longer had anyone to hold onto.
When I finally picked the phone back up off the floor the policeman on the phone apologized for giving me the news over the phone. He had been trying to get in touch with me since shortly after the accident and patrol cars had been driving by every few hours to see if anyone was home. He said that someone would come right over to see me.
I hung up the phone and at first I didn't even cry. I just knew that there had to be a mistake. My parents could not be dead. My parents were young and vital and healthy. They loved life and they lived it fully.
They were only thirty-six years old. Mom had gotten pregnant when they were both sixteen and they had gotten married immediately. They finished school and then my mom stayed home and took care of me while my dad went to work during the day and went to college at night. They had made a good life for me and for themselves and there was no way that it could be over.
I don't even remember any time passing before the police Chaplin showed up at my parent's door. He came in and sat with me. I am not religious but it was nice to have someone to talk to and help me get through that long afternoon.
He didn't know very much about the accident. He was more interested in making sure that I was okay. He tried to find out if I had any relatives or close friends nearby but I didn't.
I have some distant cousins out of state somewhere but I don't even know where. My parents had sold the house that I grew up in when I went away to college. They had purchased this smaller house in a pretty swank neighborhood in a town about an hour away from where I grew up. I didn't really know anyone here.
The Chaplin seemed uncomfortable leaving me alone when he finally left. But for the next couple of days the only thing I needed to do was cry and I didn't need any help with that.
On the third day after the accident, if you want to call what happened that day an accident, my parent's lawyer, Mr. Davis, came to the house. I had never met him but he turned out to be a lifesaver. He had been a friend of my parents as well as their attorney and he stepped in and took over all of the things that I was clueless about. All of those things that have to be taken care of at a time like that. He saw to the probation of my parent's estate and he referred me to a lawyer to sue the company that had owned the company car and provided it to the son of a bitch who was driving drunk with no license and a history of drunk driving.
I would have been lost without Mr. Davis. He even did his best to gently pull me up by the scruff of my neck and get me back on my feet and get me going again.
My parents had 1.5 million in life insurance between them and I quickly settled with the large oil company that owned the car that the drunk was driving for ten million more. I accepted their first offer. They were anxious to avoid a trial and I was anxious to put it all behind me. My lawyer was disappointed, he wanted to jerk them around some more. But it was all over in a week from the time I hired him.
My parent's house had already been paid for so there was no mortgage to worry about. In fact, my parents had no debts and considerable savings. When the estate was all settled I was very well off, even after the lawyers were paid.
Now I just had to start getting on with my life again. I couldn't just lie around crying forever.
From the time I got home I had been living in just two rooms of my parent's house, the guest bedroom and the kitchen. I couldn't bring myself to do anything with their belongings. I had not even gone into their bedroom since that day.
Now I had to force myself to do what had to be done around the house. I went out and got some boxes and brought them home to pack up my parents things in. I figured the place to start was in their bedroom. I planned on packing up their clothes and donating them to charity.
That was when I started to learn that I didn't know my parents quite as well as I thought I did. The first surprise was a relatively mild one. I packed my dad's clothes in a few boxes and put them out by the front door. Then I started putting my mother's clothes in a box. Half way through folding her clothes up I started coming across clothing that I did not think she could possibly have worn. I started finding incredibly short skirts and dresses as well as sheer tops and dresses cut so low in front and back that if they were actually street legal it was just barely.
My mother and I were the same size and I tried on one of the more outrageous dresses I found. When I had it on I stood in front of her mirror. I could not believe that my mother would wear something like this, not even alone in her bedroom! The bodice of the dress dipped down exposing me all the way to my navel! My breasts were exposed almost to my nipples. With every move I made at least one of my nipples peeked out! I turned around and the back of the dress was cut so low that the top two inches of my bikini panties was visible.
Out of curiosity I slid my panties lower on my hips and I could see a lot of cleavage back there!
It wasn't just cut low either. It was so short that I was afraid to sit down in it. I simply could not believe that my mother would wear this!
I took the dress off, put my clothes back on and started looking at the rest of the clothes in her closet. They were all, I hate to say it, just plain slutty! I certainly couldn't give this stuff to Goodwill!
I started going through the dresser drawers and the surprises just kept on coming. There were a couple of normal bras and panties. But there were dozens of the sexiest, sluttiest female undergarments that you ever saw in your life. I was starting to wonder if my mother had a split personality. I had certainly never seen her in any of this stuff. I had never been given the impression that she was the kind of person who would wear this stuff.
I sat on the bed and stared at the things I had uncovered. I couldn't make sense of this. I decided to stop and go to my dad's chest of drawers and empty that instead. I had to think about this stuff for a while.
I opened up a large trash bag and started packing up my father's underwear. It was mostly the standard stuff, jockey shorts and plain white t-shirts. But there were a couple of surprises in there too. If anyone had told me that my dad owned thongs, including a couple of leather ones, I would have laughed in their face. But damned if he didn't!
I tried not to read too much into it though. I threw his underwear and his socks in the bag. Things were moving right along again, until I came to the third drawer. The third drawer changed everything. I opened it up and was all prepared to reach in and pull out a bunch of old sweaters or sweatpants or something. Instead it was full of paperback books.
I dropped the trash bag and picked up a few of the books at random. There must have been a couple hundred of them, maybe more. They were all the most disgusting pornographic novels that I had ever seen. I never even imagined that things like this existed! These weren't magazines, like Playboy or Penthouse or even Hustler. They were novels. They all seemed to be from the same publisher and they were all about women being raped and tortured and forced to do the most awful things. There was a woman, or women, or a young girl, on the cover of each book, usually in extreme bondage and surrounded by leering men. She was usually being, or just about to be, raped or beaten or abused in some manner. There were nearly obscene photographs on the covers of some of the books. But mostly the girls on the covers were portrayed in exaggerated but amazingly lifelike color drawings.
It was enough to make me wonder if I knew my parents at all! Those books, my mother's clothes, what kind of people were they?
I closed the book drawer and stared at the next drawer. I wasn't sure that I had the nerve to explore any further into my parent's lives. But then, I certainly couldn't ask anyone else to come in here and dispose of this stuff!
I slowly opened the fourth drawer. I wasn't sure what I had found. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. The drawer was full of DVDs. The only thing on them to identify them was a number. Other than the number written on each one there was no label, no way of telling what they contained. There were hundreds of them.
I closed the drawer and pulled out the last drawer just enough to peek inside. It wasn't clothing. It appeared to be photograph albums. I pushed it shut and stood up and went out to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. I needed alcohol.
I needed to think, but first I needed alcohol. That may sound counterintuitive, but I'm pretty sure that you would have felt the same way if you were in my position. I had just found out that my parents were perverts!
I got out a cold beer and sat down at the kitchen table. I was not doing much thinking though. I sat there with the images from the covers of those books flashing through my mind and trying hard not to imagine my mother wearing those clothes that I found in her closet or the underwear in her dresser drawer.
I was learning things about my parents that I wasn't sure my mind could handle. I didn't get it. They had always been so ... I don't know. Normal I guess. This isn't a case of my dad having a secret stash of porn. That stuff wasn't stashed and my mother's slutty outfits left no doubt that she was not the typical housewife that I thought she was.
I drank the beer down quickly and got another. I stood staring down the hallway at the door to my parent's bedroom. It eventually occurred to me that I wasn't going to find the answers to any of my questions sitting here drinking beer. I could sit and drink beer all day and get comfortably numb. But I wouldn't resolve anything. I had far too many questions and no answers. The problem was that I wasn't sure that I wanted my questions answered.
The thought of what I might learn when I started digging deeper was scary as hell. But I was still left with the same challenge I had run into earlier. I didn't want to know too much about my parent's apparently kinky sex life, but there was no fucking way I could hire a stranger to come in and clean that shit out of there. And besides, the more I thought about it the more curious I was getting.
I took my beer and went back into their bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened my father's nightstand drawer and the thing I dreaded finding most was right there. It was full of bondage stuff. There were ropes and leather cuffs and all kinds of things that I couldn't even identify.
I closed the drawer and I knew that I had no choice. Well, no, that isn't true. I did have a choice. I asked myself, do I want to start with the photo albums or the DVDs?
Reluctantly I opened the bottom drawer with all the photo albums and pulled out several of them. Each of the very heavy photo albums was about four inches thick. The covers had dates on them, the time periods that were spanned by the pictures inside. I pulled out all the albums, without opening them. I didn't have the nerve just yet. When I had laid them out in chronological order I picked up the earliest one and carried it back out to the kitchen.
I dropped it on the kitchen table and got another beer. Then I sat down and tried to convince myself that when I opened it I was just going to find a typical collection of old family photos. That wasn't likely though. The dates on the cover spanned a period that roughly corresponded to my first year of high school.
My parents had not been camera bugs. As I thought back I could not remember either one of them ever taking a picture of me. At least, not since I was little. Someone had damn sure taken a lot of pictures of something though.
I sat staring at that photo album until I couldn't stand the suspense any longer. I reached out my hand, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened the album cover and slowly opened my eyes.
I did the math as I looked at the first picture. It must have been taken when my mother was twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She had been really beautiful. She still was. Or at least she had been up until a month ago. They would have been married about ten or eleven years then. The only picture on the first page was an 8X10 of my mother in a perfectly normal little black dress. It was a little shorter than anything I had ever seen her in. But there was nothing wrong with it. She looked damn good in it. She was beautiful. She had a perfect figure, long blonde hair and a smile that could melt your heart. People tell me that I look just like her when she was my age. I have always taken that as a great compliment.
She was smiling that sweet smile in the picture, though she looked a little nervous. Still, it was a perfectly normal photograph, except for the caption.
Under the photograph it said, "Erin, ready to serve her Master for the first time. September 5, 1997."
Her Master?! My mother had a Master?!
I wasn't sure that I wanted to know any more than that. In fact, I was pretty sure that I didn't. But I turned the page anyway.
There were four photos on each page. The first was of a very handsome dark haired man with a stern face. I would guess that he was about ten or fifteen years older than my parents. Underneath the picture, in very neat, very precise block letters was the caption. It said, "Master Jon."
Looking at the picture I had the impression that I had met Master Jon somewhere. But for the life of me I could not remember where or when.
In the following three pictures on the page my mother was on her knees with her hands behind her back and Jon was standing in front of her, looking down at her with disdain, or walking around her with an arrogant look on his face.
On the opposite page were four more pictures of the two of them. In the bottom two my mother was bent over kissing the shoes of the strange man in front of her. That was hard to look at. But what was even harder to see was the look of excitement on her face. She was getting off on that!
My mother was bent over kissing a strange man's feet and she was getting turned on! I assumed that my father was taking the pictures. Was he getting turned on too?
I turned the page and saw that I had been wrong. My father was not taking the pictures. In the first picture on this page the man, Jon, was seated in a big leather chair and my mother was standing in front of him. My father was standing behind my mother and he was in the process of unzipping the back of mom's dress. So who the hell was taking the pictures?!
In the second picture my mother was standing in front of Jon in just a pair of bikini panties and thigh high black hose. Jon was apparently watching as casually as if he were watching the news on television as my father undressed my mother for his amusement.
The third picture on that page showed my father handing my mother's underwear to Jon and in the last picture he was sniffing them and smiling as he stared at my mother's naked body.
I gulped down the rest of my beer and got up, a little bit shakily. I thought about getting another beer. I wasn't much of a drinker but I didn't know if I could handle this sober.
I reluctantly decided that I had already had enough to drink. Besides, until I turned twenty-one it was a pain in the ass to get more. I stood in front of the fridge staring at the album on the table. I suddenly realized that as shocked as I was, I was also getting turned on!
I am not a virgin and I have not been one for a long time. I lost my virginity a couple of months before those pictures were taken. Well, I didn't lose it. I know where it went and I gave it away gladly.
I think I'm pretty open minded. I like sex and I love being sexy. It could be better. The sex I mean. But I am hoping that with time I will get better at it and my partners will improve their technique. I love the kissing and the touching anyway. The actual fucking often leaves a lot to be desired, like an orgasm for instance. I almost never have an orgasm from fucking. Now that I think of it, I can't remember ever having an orgasm from fucking. But I usually get off one way or another. I'm not shy about telling my sex partners what I need. Well, maybe a little, but I'm getting better about that.
But that was all I had ever done with a guy. It had always been just me and a guy. No photographer. And there was no one undressing me for his viewing pleasure. I had certainly not ever kissed anyone's feet!
I suddenly remembered those paperback books. Was my mother into that stuff?! Did she like being humiliated? Did she get off on being tied up and beaten and raped? Holy shit!
I went back to the table and sat down. In the next set of pictures my parents were both undressing Jon. I was almost afraid to turn the page. No, I was definitely afraid to turn the page.
I knew that my parents wouldn't want me to see these pictures. I was shocked, and apparently I hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet. I was finding though, that I couldn't resist. I had to look.
I turned the page with mixed emotions and it was a real learning experience. Jon was naked and I have to tell you, he was very well hung! As the pictures progressed I am not sure if I was more shocked by my mother's behavior or my father's. My father didn't have sex with Jon. He merely facilitated the sex acts that took place between my mother and Jon. In one picture I saw him steady Jon's large cock and apparently feed it into my mother's mouth.
After that he stayed on his knees and in the background of the pictures. He was just an onlooker as my mother sucked Jon's cock.
I like sucking a nice cock every now and then. I think it is a sexy thing to do. But I have never sucked a cock like my mother did in those pictures. She took that large male member all the way down her throat!
It was obviously not easy for her. There were tears in her eyes. She choked and gagged. But she eventually got that thing all the way down her throat! I saw that my father was concerned for her as she struggled to swallow that big fucking cock. But he was also aroused. That was kind of embarrassing for me too. I don't think that I had ever seen my father with an erection before.
When he reached orgasm, Jon pulled back until just the tip of his cock was resting on my mother's tongue. The following pictures were of cum shooting out of his cock and into her wide open mouth and then more pictures as she swallowed. It was really amazing.
I sat back and closed my eyes and steadied my breathing before I continued. When I had calmed down I turned back to the album, anxious to see what came next. What came next was my mother getting him hard again with her mouth and then getting on her hands and knees while my father lined Jon's cock up with her very wet looking pussy. He drove that big thing into her for what appeared to be a very satisfying fuck. The look on mom's face as Jon fucked her made me even hotter than I already was. There was no question that she loved what he was doing to her.
I had to take a break. I couldn't take any more. I left the album on the table and got up and went back to my parent's room. I stood just inside the door and looked at my father's chest of drawers and I shivered. I'm not sure why. I went over and sat on my mother's side of the bed and opened her nightstand. There was another large assortment of bondage equipment. There was also an assortment of vibrators of various shapes and sizes and an assortment of butt plugs. I had never used a butt plug. I had never actually seen one before, just the pictures. A couple of them were huge and I wondered if she actually took those into her body.
I pulled out a couple of the vibrators and turned one of them on. I adjusted it down to the lowest setting and rubbed it lightly between my legs. It felt pretty damned good. I felt a little strange using my dead mother's vibrator. But I think that she would have enjoyed it if she knew, judging by what I had seen in the last couple of hours.
I stood up and took off my jeans and my panties and stretched out on the bed. I had an orgasm almost as soon as I touch myself with the vibrator. I wasn't finished though. I continued to move it around and tease myself until I had two more very satisfying orgasms. My mother had, if nothing else, excellent taste in vibrators. This thing was much better than my dinky little vibrator.
I decided to go for one more. Before I got started I got up and went over to the drawer full of nasty books and selected one at random. I ended up with a book called "Roped and Raped Schoolgirl" by Robert Vickers. I went back over and stretched out on the bed. I turned the vibrator on low again and rested it between my thighs while I started reading.
It was silly. I knew before I even opened it that it was a book devoted to depraved male fantasy. On the other hand, I couldn't put it down. I read it cover to cover, pausing every so often to have an orgasm.
By the time I turned off the vibrator and tossed the book aside I was stiff and sore. The funny thing though, was that even though I had enjoyed so many orgasms that I couldn't even guess at how many there had been, I was still as horny as I had ever been in my life. God I wanted a cock right now! I needed a nice big cock like Jon's. I couldn't even imagine what that big thing would feel like being forced up inside of me. I got to my feet, pulled my clothes back on and went back out to the kitchen for another beer.
I took it into the living room. I didn't have the energy to look at any more of those photographs right now. I sat there in the quiet room and stared off into space. I was going to have to totally revise everything that I knew about my parents now. I almost wished that I could ask them about those things. I knew though, that if they were still alive, even if I had found their kinky stash I would never have had the nerve to speak to them about what I found.
I suddenly thought of that drawer that was crammed full of DVDs. I was tempted to go and get one out. But I couldn't. Not yet. I knew that if I did I would get turned on all over again. I was pretty certain that I knew what was on those DVDs.
I was a little concerned that I was suddenly looking forward to seeing them. It can't be normal to want to spy on your parents in their most private sexual moments. But remembering how excited I had gotten looking through the photographs of my parent's first meeting with Jon, their new Master, I knew that I was going to enjoy watching those DVDs.
I couldn't bring myself to go back into their bedroom right now. I decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. My parents had bought a smaller house when they moved here. But it was a very expensive house in a very upscale neighborhood. The neighbor's houses were all big and expensive and the lawns well manicured, mostly by gardeners. The people were surprisingly friendly though. I had noticed it when I came back to visit on school holidays. When people were outside in their yards around here and they saw you walking by they waved or spoke. It gave you a warm feeling just walking around the block.
I locked my front door and took off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. As I made my way down the street several people recognized me. They came out to the sidewalk to greet me and to offer their condolences. They seemed very sincere and I really appreciated their thoughtfulness.
I walked around the block trying to calm down and clear my head a little. As I was approaching my house I saw someone walking away from my front door. He looked familiar but I couldn't place him. I hurried to catch him before he went too far down the street. He heard me rushing up behind him and he turned around and stopped and waited for me.
As soon as I came to a stop in front of him I recognized him. It was Jon! My mother's Master!
He smiled when he saw me and said, "Judging from your expression I guess I got here too late. I was hoping to speak to you before you started going through your parent's things. You must be pretty upset. I would like to have a chance to talk to you if you think you could stand to be in a room with me. I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. I was in China on business. By the time I got word about your parents and was able to wrap it up and hurry home, it ... well, it took until today. My wife and I just got home. I promise you, I am as upset as you are. I was very close to your parents, despite what you probably think right now."
I didn't want him to know how I really felt about what I had found. It would have been too embarrassing. And besides, I don't know why, but I wasn't ready to let him off the hook. But I did want to find out more about what I had seen today. This man apparently knew more about my parents than I did!
I invited him in for a drink and he smiled and said, "I would love a drink. Thank you, Miki. May I call you Miki?"
I nodded. I still felt like I had met this man before and it was driving me crazy that I couldn't remember it.
He escorted me back to my door and I unlocked it. He followed me into the living room. I noticed that his eyes went right to the open photo album on the kitchen table.
He said, "I am sorry that you had to suffer that kind of shock after what you have already gone through. I really wish I could have spared you that. Please don't think ill of your parents because of what you have found. They were both remarkable people and I think that when you are older you may not be so upset by what you've discovered."
I left him hanging and asked him what he wanted to drink.
He smiled again. He has a beautiful smile. He said, "I'll help myself if you don't mind. I know where it is."
I nodded and he headed for the liquor cabinet. I had already had enough beer to drink today. I wasn't much of a drinker. I settled for a glass of ice water. We sat in the living room and for a moment no one spoke.
I watched him, trying to sense something, anything about him. He radiated self confidence. He wasn't hesitating because he was uncomfortable. He was probably just trying to decide what to say to make me feel better and make me feel better about my parents.
He sipped on his drink for a moment and then he said, "You must have a lot of questions. Would you prefer that I try to explain? Or would you like to ask the questions that are on your mind?"
Before I answered his question I said, "I only know you as Master Jon. What should I call you?"
He smiled that disarming smile again and said, "Please, call me Jon."
I returned his smile and admitted, "I'm not upset Jon. I was shocked when I found the things that were in their bedroom. I went in to get their clothes ready to donate to Goodwill and it was just one shock after another. But the more time I spent ... browsing, is that the right word? And as my mind began to adjust to the things I was seeing, well, my reaction seems to be moderating, evolving."
Jon looked at me curiously. I think my reaction surprised him as much as it did me. I smiled and said, "If you don't mind, you are right. I do have a lot of questions. I think that maybe it would be better if you could explain first. I have questions that I wouldn't even know how to ask."
He chuckled and got up and went to the liquor cabinet. As he crossed the room he said, "I need a little more courage before I do."
He poured himself another couple of shots of bourbon. Then he went over to the kitchen table. He looked at the page that the album was opened to. I saw the look on his face when he stared down at the pictures. There was no mistaking the love in his eyes, and the terrible sadness. He glanced at the cover of the photo album I had been looking at and then he came back into the living room and sat down.
He said, "I see you are starting at the beginning. I suppose that you are curious about how we met. Your father worked for me. We became good friends very quickly and based entirely on your father's job performance, his extreme competence, and my ability to rely on him so completely, I promoted him rapidly. As time passed I met your mother at several office parties and it goes without saying that I found her to be extremely attractive. I believe that everyone that ever met your mother loved her. You look so much like her, Miki. It is difficult for me to sit here and talk about them with you. She could have been your sister. You even share a lot of your mannerisms."
He stared at me for a moment and again I saw affection in his gaze. Then he continued, "Your parents and my wife and I had an admittedly strange relationship. It was a love affair of a kind. It lasted for more than ten years. It wasn't over, in case you are wondering. My wife and I are as upset as you were when you found out about their passing. It took several days for people at the office to find out what had happened and a couple more days for them to get in touch with me. From the time that we were notified it was a mad scramble to extricate ourselves from our dealings there and arrange for transportation home. We haven't had time for the news to really sink in yet. For us it is a fresh wound and we are suffering more than I could put into words. You may find that hard to believe as you go through those things you have found. I am not prepared at the moment to try to justify our lifestyle. But I want to stress to you that there is a bond of love between the four of us that is greater even than that enjoyed by most married couples. There was no romance. But there was trust and there was excitement and there was lust and there was love."
"My wife was taking those pictures, the ones in the album you are looking at. As you go through that material, if you continue to go through it, one of the four of us was nearly always the photographer. There are exceptions. There were instances when we used professional cameramen with professional equipment. There were other times that we invited complete strangers to hold the cameras. Most often though it was one of us."
"Our strange relationship evolved over time. You parents had fantasies... , you'll get the idea if you go through the things you have found. As it turned out, my wife and I are a dominant couple. We were just what your parents needed. They were the submissive couple that we had needed. My wife and I have, over the years, had other slaves. Usually it was a woman, though on occasion we met with couples. Usually it was a relationship of short duration, often just a onetime thing."
"Your father discovered that my wife and I were into that lifestyle one day when he was working late and needed a file from my desk. I had inadvertently left some incriminating pictures and correspondence in my desk drawer and your father discovered it. We gradually began speaking of it when we were alone, usually over a beer after work or when we were playing golf. It was at one of those sessions when he was drawing me out on the subject that he admitted that he and your mother had submissive fantasies."
"We continued to talk about it for almost a year before the events that you saw in that album took place. We were reluctant to satisfy the desire that all four of us had because of our fear of how it would affect our friendship and our working relationship. We had, over that year, met more and more often with your parents socially. We went out to dinner with them or met them at parties. You probably don't remember it but we even met you a couple of times when you were about fifteen or sixteen."
No. I didn't remember it. But it explained why he looked so familiar.
"It began to seem inevitable. There was something about the four of us together that just clicked. I want you to know that my wife and I loved your parents and they loved us. They bought this house to be near us. We live three doors down."
"I think that I should stop at this point, unless you have any questions. Are you going to continue going through the things that you found in their room?"
I nodded and said, "I was shocked. There is no denying that. But for some reason I can't stop. And the more I find out the more that I want to find out. I'm not even sure why myself!"
Jon smiled and said, "I'm starting to think that you don't just resemble your mother physically. But I'll leave that for you to decide."
I blushed. Because I was starting to think he was right.
He noticed my red face and the fact that I didn't bother to protest. He was nice enough not to say anything though.
He stood up and took his empty glass out to the kitchen. When he came back he said, "My wife wants me invite you over for dinner tonight. It won't be anything fancy. We are still unpacking from our trip, which was much too long. And she hasn't stopped crying since we found out. Please come. Laura would love to meet you."
I stood up and said, "Perhaps it would be better if you brought Laura here for dinner. I have pretty much stopped crying now. I'm not the best cook in the world. But I can almost guarantee that I won't poison you."
He smiled and said, "If you don't mind, I think that's a great idea. Laura is in no shape to entertain. What time would you like us?"
I thought about what I needed to do to get ready and answered, "Why don't we plan on an early dinner since you are probably tired? How about dinner at six? But come over early so we can talk."
Jon stood in front of me and ran his fingers through my hair. He shook his head and said, "Jesus, Miki! It's like I'm standing here looking at your mother ten years ago."
He suddenly took me in his arms and hugged me and said, "I'm so sorry, for all of us."
I had just met this man. And considering what I knew about him I suppose that I should have felt uncomfortable. But for some reason it felt good to be in his arms. I needed that hug. I hadn't had anyone to hug me since the accident. I almost started crying all over his shirt.
When he stepped back I saw that his eyes were moist too. I smiled up at him and he started to apologize for being too familiar. I touched my fingertip to his lips and shook my head.
"No, Jon. Please don't apologize. I needed that. Thank you. See you at around five?"
He nodded. Then he turned and left quickly. I had the impression that he was leaving because he didn't want me to see him cry. I knew the feeling. If he hadn't left I was going to start crying again too.