Reginald's Future - Cover

Reginald's Future

Copyright© 2018 by Gordon Johnson

Chapter 2

Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Book Six in the 'Reginald' series, about a man who ends up with six wives. It is advised that you read the other five books before this one, to make the story easier to follow.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   Indian Female   Slow  

Reg got up and went to find Frances and return her phone to her.

“Thanks, pet. That was interesting. He has opened two more boxes and found one box full of knives and daggers, and a box of pistols. It is looking like all these boxes were stashes of negotiable future assets for when the house owner retired as a drugs baron. Most of them will have appreciated in value, except for the uranium.

His early death left all his stashes in limbo, and your Dad is getting the benefit; quite right too.”

This thought about assets reminded him of Jessica’s desire to allocate some of the windfall she got through the court’s action in confiscating assets that her former husband had thought to salt away. Speaking to her, she asked Reg what he thought she should do for Sidra.

“I want to make sure she has a dowry set aside for her, Reg,” she said.”

Reg was averse to the suggestion. “You don’t need to do that, Jessica. Sidra and Elizabeth are now officially OUR children, so we look after them as a family. You have no requirement to consider a dowry, anyway. That is an outmoded idea not valid in England for at least the past century, except in literature. If you want to open an investment account in her name, that she can access when she is a full adult – say 20 or 21 – then that is fine, but it will be HER money, and not a dowry to attract a man.”

“You think so, Reg? I know that in Pakistan girls are still treated as second-class citizens, and that attitude came across to England with our family.”

“Well, you are now part of OUR family, my darling wife, so we shall view Sidra as a strong individual, able to make up her own mind about her future life. If your assets can stretch that far, you might want to treat Elizabeth the same way. These two have bonded well, you will have noticed, and now that Elizabeth has lost most of her extra weight, she has become a rather good-looking girl, with curves in all the right places. She will need adult female advice on how to fend off boys that have ulterior motives towards her person. I think you are the best person for that important education.”

“I see what you mean, dear. With home schooling, she is not being exposed to boys at school, so won’t have the knowledge of experience that she needs to protect herself. She is still a trifle naive with not having her original parents around to protect her virtue.”

“She has that now: us. I think that we should be taking her and Sidra out of the house a bit more, to expose them to the outside world again. Sidra is a tough cookie, but Elizabeth doesn’t have the same in-depth self-confidence; just what courage she has developed here with us. This household is so overloaded with females that she simply is not getting the essential experience of being around males, particularly teenage boys.”

Jessica went off, satisfied with her husband’s opinion.

Reg found himself wondering if her ex-husband would ever be a problem again. That attack on her lawyer, Freda’s father, never really came to anything. There was a strong suspicion as to who the perpetrator was, but with the knife vanished, there were no fingerprints or DNA evidence, and no-one could positively identify the attacker as Mr Sadaf. Despite a lack of proof of his whereabouts on the day, there was not enough evidence of any sort to pin him down, and for now he was left in peace.

Reg had for a time the notion of attacking the man from a distance, with an airgun. His thought was if the man was hit with a pellet from no visible source, it would prove to him that he was not safe, and thus deter him from any violence of his own. Reg’s conscience got the better of him, and he dropped the idea.

Ferguson the chemist was another matter. Sidra might inadvertantly have come to harm through the explosion in the Chemistry Building. If he had the chance, Reg would have happily sabotaged that guy’s future life by making sure he went to prison, one way or another. Fortunately that proved unnecessary, as the court case that followed his arrest led to the man’s incarceration for a few years.

Hermione and Jemima were vastly improved by this time. When Reg and Jessica finally took them back to visit their parents in Yorkshire, the two daughters burbled about how much they had learned from Reg and his wives, and how Reg had appointed them as staff for the new company that had been formed. The Robson parents were astounded at the change, and happily approved of their embarkation on an adult working life.

Their father, Mr Robson, collared Reg outside, away from the others, to question him about how he had done it. Reg confessed, “I did little, sir. It was mostly the ladies in our household who did the necessary, including my teenage adopted daughter: she gave them a bollocking for not pulling their weight in the morning. They listened to her, where they might ignore an adult.

My worst was a telling off I gave them when they fought us, over wanting to return home. I told them it was my decision, not theirs, and if I had to send them home without improvement, I would have failed you. That hit them hard, and they thought over things for a while, reviewing their situation in a new light. Then they knuckled down and cooperated, even going out running with Elizabeth to get their weight down: Elizabeth was vastly overweight when we first found her. You can see the difference in your girls that made.”

“And how! They are much slimmer, and their approach to life is now wonderful to behold. They have a better chance of finding husbands now, thanks to you, Mr Robertson.”

“That may be the case, but all I was doing was making them better daughters for you and your lady wife. Husbands are not always the best end point.”

“It is very much appreciated, young man. Giving them productive work also helps, even though it has no link to the farm.”

Hermione and Jemima loaded up the car boot with lots more of their possessions. Only the furniture remained behind, as they were aware that there was enough furniture in their new home. Jessica informed the girls that despite its large size, the car could only take so much, then it would become overloaded. “I am not going to make this journey unsafe, girls, so decide what items are important to you, and stick with that! It is decision time.”

Despite a sour look from Hermione, the two Robson girls settled on their baggage, and their parents promised that what was left behind would not be thrown out. “Your rooms are always here, girls, for when you come back to visit,” declared their mother.

Reg was amused by the antics, and astounded at how much stuff the girls possessed. When he left home to move to the university, he recalled, he had owned practically nothing except his small collection of second-hand books. He had one fairly reasonable set of clothes – what his mother called his ‘Sunday clothes’, and he wore them for the trip; his other clothes were too worn to be seen at the university. He worked on the basis of finding some cheap replacements at a charity shop near the university: there would be one, where the richer students would hand in clothes that were no longer fashionable. Reg was happy with unfashionable; at least he was at that time. His wives had gradually changed his views to make him socially acceptable beside them.

Now that he had enough assets, his wardrobe had taken on new life; of course selected by one or other of his wives. He still was blind to fashion, but acceded to their well-informed instructions. A man in love listens to his loves.

Reg still had that memory, of a delighted Mr and Mrs Robson at their farm door, waving off their daughters to a new beginning. They knew that their girls were finally on the path to a successful life, and that made their parents very pleased. They hoped that their girls would find men as good as Reginald Robertson. His older, Asian, wife appeared very comfortable with him, and he had admitted to having other wives at home. How that young lad could be involved with more than one woman was utterly astounding, Mr Robson thought to himself. The youngster must have some special attraction, other than his ability to locate treasure with his metal detector, and his proved defensive capabilities.

As he thought about that, Mr Robson came to the conclusion that finding treasure and being able to defend his women were two traits that could endear Reg to any woman. It never occurred to him that his daughters were equally cognisant of these facts. A doting father never does; he still thinks of them as his little girls.

Reg was now at the stage of seriously thinking about his own babies that were just a few months from appearing on the scene. He was still concerned at the several wives who had been suffering from morning sickness, and now asked Fiona,

“Are you happy, Fiona? I mean happy with being married to me?”

She looked askance at him. “Why ever would I not be happy, Reg? I love you as my man, and I am looking forward to our baby being born.”

“Yes, but your morning sickness: is it still bothering you?”

“Oh. Now that you mention the subject, I haven’t felt nauseous for a week of so. The change crept up on me and the nausea has ceased without me noticing. Great! I hope I have seen the last of it.” She remembered her sister wives and added, “I hope the others are similarly freed from it. I certainly haven’t heard them talk about it, or that would have made me notice my improvement.”

Reg agreed. “I had better ask them all about it, to make sure. I have learned not to take any of you ladies for granted: it is too dangerous!”

Fiona grinned, “You have it right, my love. I have heard more talk recently about the weight being carried on their fronts, than about their morning sickness. I love you dearly, Reg. I have never once regretted joining your clan. Thinking about babies, are the twins going on that short midwifery course you talked about, or not?”

“I have them booked in for the course; in fact, the two courses; one about childcare and the other about midwifery. I want them to learn from each other. As far as I can tell, they still want to stay with us and do their jobs, until the Pringle twins pluck up enough courage to ask for marriage. Even if they did get engaged, I would ask them to put off marriage until they had experience in dealing with our children, for that would be great experience to take into their own future families.”

“Good thinking, that man!” grinned Fiona.

“Damn!” exclaimed Reginald. “Your talk about thinking reminds me I have not yet spoken to Frances and the rest of you about going back to the local farm with the detector.”

“What are you talking about? You made a great find there. Why would you need to go back?”

“It is not me, Fiona. It is the farmer: he wants his fields checked over so he can put up truthful notices warning off detectorists. He wants to tell them, there is nothing to find, so fuck off! Or at least that declaration in a more genteel fashion.”

“It is up to you, my love. As long as you can fit it around all your other responsibilities, I am fine with it.”

Reg went to find Frances. He ended up waiting in the kitchen, as he was told she was at the toilet. He was comfortable being around whoever was in the kitchen at the time, and this time it was Jemima Robson and Elizabeth. They seemed to be getting along fine.

“Hi, girls. Can I hang around here while I wait for Frances?”

“Sure, Reg,” said Jemima. “We are keeping an eye on stuff that’s cooking. The twins are back at the window cleaning, now that they have caught up with the polishing.”

“Good for them,” he acknowledged. “They are great workers, that pair.”

“I know,” said Jemima. “I am trying to be as good a worker as them, doing things to advertise the company. Frances told me to report to her, as you were so busy.”

Reg guffawed. “I hate to think what she will say when I tell her my intentions!”

“What’s that, Reg?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Frances and my other wives get to hear first.”

“You do make them your priority, Reg. That is rather endearing.”

“It just seems the right thing to do, Jemima. That’s all it is.”

“No, it is more and that. You love them, so you give them your attention in all important matters. I am noticing things like that now. Young Elizabeth here put us right a while back, about considering other people, and I am doing my best to apply that to my life.”

“You are doing great now, Jemima,” Elizabeth claimed. “Dad is a great role model for us. He taught me to believe in myself, and now look at me!” She gave a little twirl to show her slimmed down torso to effect.

Jemima confessed, “I lost a few pounds as well, through our jogging in the streets, and now I get a few admiring looks from men as I walk past. Reg is certainly worth listening to.”

Reg felt uncomfortable, and remarked, “I AM here, girls. Stop making me embarrassed.”

Elizabeth retorted, “You would prefer us to say what a terrible Dad you are, forcing your daughter to run every day and make herself beautiful?”

“You were always beautiful, Elizabeth; you just hid it from everyone until we persuaded you to reveal your true self under the pounds. It was your sister who forced you to run, girl!”

“Perhaps, but I could never say bad things about Sidra. You, I know I can get away with it!” She grinned mischievously as she said this.

Reg gave an ostentatious sigh, and voiced, “Oh, Frances, where are you my love?”

“You wanted me, Reg?” came Frances’ voice from the doorway.

Reg turned to face his wife. He gestured out the door, and joined her in the corridor, away from listening ears, where he spoke in a soft voice, “Frances, you know that I always want you, you gorgeous woman, but in this case I want your brain and a mindful decision.”

“How disappointing! So what do you want, then?”

“Farmer Robson – the local one – wants me to give the rest of his fields the once-over with the metal detector. He is being bothered by unauthorised detectorists coming onto his farm, so he wants to be able to put up notices on all his field gates to say that the field has been already checked over and there is nothing to be found. That way he hopes to deter these nuisances. He is willing to pay me one hundred pounds for doing it for him.”

“But what if you do find something, dear?”

“He says I can keep the lot, if I find anything worthwhile. I told him my spouses would have to give their agreement before I could accept.”

“So it is really up to me, on the assumption that the other girls will follow my lead?”

“That is what I expect, but I want a genuine survey of them all, not a blanket assumption.”

“Well, let me quiz you first. Do you have the time to do this?”

“I can make time. It needs daylight, so it will probably be just the weekends at present.”

“Okay. You promise to keep up with your university tasks; and make love to all your wives as often as they need you?”

“Yes. I will promise that, Frances.”

“All right. In that case, I will approve, provided you spin it out over a goodly number of weekends. If we need you to come to church with us, you will do so.”

Reg agreed. “Certainly, darling.”

“Right. I’ll go over this with the others, and get their take on it. You don’t need a 100 per cent ‘Yes’ vote, I take it?”

“I would like that, but a majority vote would be enough. I can apologise to the nay-sayers.”

Frances went off to locate the other girls and get their opinion.

It took a couple of hours before she sought him out again.

“Reg, I had to argue with a couple of the girls, but we are all finally in agreement. You can go, provided it is just weekends and each visit to the farm is not more than a couple of hours plus travel time.”

“What was the objection?”

“Generally, we each see you very little on our own, as individuals, and this will mean more separation, so Prudence and Jessica were not enthusiastic, but I talked them round. Just be careful to stick to your planned times, or you may get a few moans of complaint.”

“Frances, you see me on my own more often than the others. Normal life of studies and business prevents me having much one-to-one time during the day anyway, so being out during daylight at the weekend should make little difference.”

“My dear husband, women don’t look at things the same way as men, using logic only. We value what little times we get for closeness with our man, and any threat to such availability is looked on with suspicion. You men don’t seem to realise this need for tenderness. Please remember that in future.”

“Oh, I see. I didn’t think of it in that way, darling. I still have a male practical view of life, and so I need reminding of the female viewpoint at times. Please take my apologies to the other girls, and thank them for their tolerance of me. I will apologise to them individually as I get the chance.”

Frances smiled tolerantly. “Start making your preparations, dear, but you may have to come to church with us on Sunday morning.”

“I’d best let Mr Robson know that I can make it at weekends. I’ll phone him now.”

He did so, but got Mrs Robson instead, as her husband was out of the farmhouse. When Reg explained the restrictions on his availability, she chuckled.

“You are at last getting the idea that we women like some individual togetherness with our men. Being in a group situation is not quite the same, Reginald. Good advice: pay attention to each of your ladies, as individual people you value. They will approve of that. We’ll see you when we see you; just ring to say you are on your way, young man.”

Come Saturday morning, Reg tried to get up early, but was told that his wives needed more loving before they would let him go. He reflected that it was just as well he had got the metal detector out the evening before, and reviewed the book of instructions. His target at the farm this time was a more general one: to establish what metal was present, if anything at all. He had the plan that if he could unearth some base metal objects, he could pile these by the gate as evidence that the field had been fully gone over. This would back up Mr Robson’s notices.

When he finally got to the farm – Jessica had been persuaded to run him there in her car to save the travel time – he called at the farmhouse to explain his plan of action. The couple approved, saying, “We’ll leave the junk you find just lying there for several months, so the unwanted detectorists get the message.”

Reg asked which field he should start with, as he did not want to compete with farm animals, or trample new crops. He was advised that the top field was the one to try, as it was being left fallow this spring. It was the least productive field on the farm, due to its elevated position. It basically wrapped round the rocky peak of the hill. Any excavation he needed to do would therefore not be a nuisance.

Reg trudged up to the field entrance; his detector, marker pegs, shovel and find bags all packed in the rucksack he had recently bought in a charity shop. He was not much concerned about its condition, as it was intended as a work tool, not a fashion statement.

He spent a happy hour tramping slowly up and down the field, his mind on nothing except the dial on the machine. With the setting he was using, he kept picking up nails and screws, and other pieces of old iron just under the surface of the soil. He was prepared to reset the detector if there was any hint of any noble metals, but so far there was nothing.

He completed the first half of the field, with only a bag of smallish pieces of metal to show for it. He thought to check the time, and decided he would manage another third of this field before he had to head home.

His anticipation was accurate, as he only found a couple of curved broken pieces of iron, which he reckoned came from a wartime bomb casing. What a bomb would be doing in the countryside beat him, but facts is facts, as he once heard an old man say. He dug down to where it was and excavated it for the pile of ‘finds’ to be left at the gate.

He had to call it a day with still a quarter of the field to cover. He inserted a marker peg at one end of his final traverse, and added a second at the end of that line. It would tell him where he finished, when he returned to continue.

Getting home after the long walk, he was told by Jessica that he should have phoned home, and she would have come to collect him. He retorted, “You are getting big in the middle, Jessica and not as young as the others. I didn’t want to put you to more trouble, when I could walk and get exercise.”

“I am not that big that I can’t drive, as you saw when I took you there. Phone next time: your presence is required more here, than having you spend ages walking home.”

“Very well, love.”

She persevered. “Did you find anything interesting?”

“Not this time. Plenty of old iron, but that’s all.”

Sunday morning was a visit to a church service with his ladies. They went to the church where they were already known, and Reg noticed that they were no longer looked upon with horror as a polygamous family. The minister must have been speaking quietly to prominent members of the congregation, for this time it was noticeable that interest was concentrated on how each of the ladies felt, and enquiries about the advance of their pregnancies. Reg was observed by the other men as being a weird member of the male gender, having six women married to him and clearly happy about his predicament.

The additional members of their household were examined nearly as carefully. Sidra and Elizabeth had been introduced as Reg’s adopted daughters, and the twins were already known as relatives of Frances, but the Robson sisters were a newer part of the equation. They were described as members of staff of the family company that had been formed recently, so they were treated as more normal members of society. A few members of the congregation tried to pump them about the Robertson household, but the newer ladies would not be drawn; merely saying they worked for the company as live-in staff, and didn’t involve themselves in Robertson family matters.

When there were enquiries about what sort of company it was, Jemima went into her PR mode and talked about how the Recovery Enterprise Group had been helping companies by identifying where money was wasted or embezzled or otherwise devoted to non-profitable business ventures. Getting a reply from one lady that “surely the organisation could do that themselves”, Jemima mentioned that criminal activities are not always easy to spot, particularly from within the organisation. “An outside observer often sees things that are not obvious to the organisation or company.”

She told the lady that a company and a university had both been found to be losing money by criminal activity that they were unaware of, but R.E.G had found this for them and saved them huge amounts. Beyond the basic fee for a contract, the company only asked for five per cent of savings made beyond the basic fee.

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