Chapter 2

Molly came to consciousness as a vagina -- a very tight one. A new one. It hurt.

“Oh, Daphne, oh, baby...”

The penis got deep enough into Daphne to wake up the clan.

“What the hell is going on?” came a loud voice, very close by. It could be no one else but Adam.

“Hi, Adam,” said Molly quickly. “Don’t worry. You’re dead. You come alive when your descendants have sex.”

The penis poked in and out, the live boy gasping.

“What? Come off it!” shouted Adam.

“Yes, Daphne, yes!” said the boy, holding his cock deep for a second.

“See you later, son,” said George as the cock slipped out.

“Hey!” said Adam as consciousness faded.

She was a vagina again -- slightly less tight. It didn’t hurt.

“What the HELL is going on?” shouted Adam.

Molly and George took turns explaining the situation in the pauses between Adam’s incredulous outbursts.

When Molly said, “She can’t hear you,” Adam immediately shouted, about as loud as a dead person could shout, “Daphne, Daphne! This is your dad! Can you hear me?”

“Aw, shit!” said Daphne.

“Daphne, this is your dad! I’m dead, I guess. Can you hear me?”

“No, no, this isn’t happening,” said Daphne softly.

The owner of the shaft gasped and groaned with pleasure. Molly could feel the cock twitching as it delivered its load.

He didn’t pull out right away.

“Did you have a good time?” asked the boy.

“Yeah OK, it felt nice,” said Daphne.

“What were you saying?”

“I ... It was really creepy. I could swear I heard my father shouting to me.”

The boy chuckled. “Oh. Freud would have things to say about that.”

“No, it’s real, it’s real!” shouted Adam. “I really am talking to you! I love you to pieces!”

“Uh, I gotta go,” said Daphne.

“Not going to spend the night?” asked the boy.

“I’d like to, but it’s just this is so weird. You’re great, it’s not that.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, that would be good. Call me.”

The cock slithered out.

When John glided into Susan, the party of the bride talked with excitement. Adam was not present, of course, since Susan was his sister, not his descendant.

“What does it mean?” said Molly

“A coincidence, I figure,” said Phyllis.

“You think so?” said Sarah.

“Well, everyone told us they can never detect us at all, but ... what if they’re wrong?” said George. “Hey, Susan!” This is your father! Can you hear me?”

Susan did not react. They could feel her nimble fingers gradually increasing her sexual arousal.

“Susan! It’s grandma!” shouted Sarah.

“It’s your mother, Susan. I love you, Susan!” yelled Molly.

Susan’s arousal built gradually.

“I love you, honey,” said the living John. “I really do.”

Susan’s arousal surged a bit.

“What would you like most now?” he asked.

“A little higher ... yeah, like that ... and just keep it up, that rhythm, that’s wonderful...”

Many relatives called out to Susan, as loud as they could, sometimes talking over each other. Even Molly’s father called out in a loud monotone. Grandma Phyllis prayed.

But their efforts were rewarded with nothing -- though Susan did have a small but real orgasm -- the first since Adam’s death. If she was hearing things it almost certainly would have gotten in the way of that release.

Each time Molly came to consciousness, she hoped she would be instantiated as Daphne’s vagina. But it was always Susan’s.

They debated about how they could handle things better when Daphne had sex again. They looked at it from her point of view. Of course she thought she was hallucinating. Any sane person would assume that if you hear your dead father’s voice you are hallucinating. Since he had died young and unexpectedly, within the past few years, the psychiatrists would be less surprised. If these hallucinations happened during sex, they would nod knowingly, especially those with Freudian inclinations.

What could they convey to Daphne that would convince her it was real? There was no point in repeating some shared secret that only she and some ancestor shared. If Daphne knew it, it was within the range of hallucination. They needed to tell her something new. Something she could not have known before but could verify in the real world.

Grandpa Malcolm described some money he’d left in the wall of his last house, a nest egg for emergencies. He’d died suddenly and had no time to even tell Phyllis where it was. They all thought that was interesting, and listened to him describe the location. But it was complicated. City, address, room, wall, height. It would quite likely take longer to convey than the average excited young man would stay inserted in a vagina before he blew his load and withdrew. Daphne would have to remember a lot. And Malcolm confessed that he wasn’t positive about the details -- he could surely find it if he was there himself. And there was no guarantee that old house was still there. Or it might have been renovated and the money discovered and removed then.

Molly suggested Daphne be told to track down a certain man who had been her boyfriend in high school and relay that time they had come across a skunk eating a dead dog. They all agreed that was memorable -- but even if he confirmed it, it might just be him being agreeable, perhaps hoping to make friends with an attractive young woman. But they could phrase it differently -- have her ask him to verify what animal they had seen eating what animal?

Phyllis questioned whether they should do anything at all, other than try to convince Adam to be quiet. Was it a good thing for the living to know what the afterlife was like? They listened politely, but the prospect of communicating and being relevant to the living was just an irresistible draw.

George had a more promising idea. He had written some erotic stories and posted them online on ASSTR. He’d never told anyone, and the account was presumably languishing there forever, protected by a password known only to a dead man. But if Daphne knew it, she could log in. That sounded good to everyone.

There were further complications. It was one thing to convince Daphne that she wasn’t hallucinating, but how could she convince anyone else? And -- small detail -- they wondered how Daphne would feel about having sex with all her ancestors not just listening in -- not just watching -- but actually inhabiting her own genitals and feeling what she felt as the act took place.

This time Molly emerged from unconsciousness as the stiff intruder, the penetrator, the penis.