Joey:

I saw them walking into the maze.

The hedge maze covered the balance of our property. I am told my birth mother, Eloise Masterson, had it constructed. It was a maze designed by one of the world’s premier maze designers. The hedges were tall, at least fourteen or fifteen feet. Strings of LED lights were woven through much of the hedge lines. Black pools surrounded most of the grottoes and other destination within the maze.

At the heart of the maze was an enclosed pavilion, which could be used at any time of the year. It was for all intents and purposes a bedroom with an attached three quarters bath. The heart of the maze could be reached by several paths. The walls of the structure were glass so that anything being done in the pavilion could be seen by anyone who reached the heart. Also spread throughout the maze were four open pavilions, outfitted with platform beds. Additionally in the maze were sixteen dead end grottoes having lounges and tables. All buildings and the grottoes were electrified, having lighting. In the case of the main pavilion heat was installed. The other structures had infrared heat lamps, to allow them to be used even when the outside weather was cold.

I often walked in the maze. It had always been on the property, as far as I was concerned, and my sister and I often played there. I knew my parents used it for other purposes.

My family was not what could be called conventional. For one thing we had incredible wealth on both my father’s and my birth mother’s sides. Then there was the domestic situation of our extended family.

My stepmother’s family was not conventional either. Her brother lived with two women, considering both his wives. It was not unexpected, to me at least, that my father and stepmother would seek to emulate this domestic situation.

It had only been recently that I found out officially that my parents followed an unconventional sexual lifestyle. I suppose one could call them swingers, but that was probably not entirely accurate. Polyamorous was probably a more accurate description, though that was not a word my virgin sixteen year old self knew. Of course I suspected it long before they told me. People talk. Friends about their parents. Servants, about their party preparation duties. The occasion pair of underwear missed by the cleaning staff. That sort of thing.

In the last three months my parents had brought home a new woman. As a matter of fact, I am sure that her introduction led to the revelation of their lifestyle to me. Something they had still not confessed to my younger sister. Someone who also heard the rumors, but was less pragmatic about the situation.

They could have just been walking, as I often did, through the many turns of the hedges. They strolled hand in hand. My father, Douglas Masterson, my stepmother, Karen Masterson, and Victoria Henderson, their lover, between them.

God she was beautiful. Blonde with a body Paris would easily have fallen for, though it launch a thousand ships and bring destruction on his homeland. On one side my stepmother, a redheaded beauty, who, by this time, filled my hormone fueled teenage fantasies. On the other, my father, the man lucky enough to have the attention of two such sensual women.

Karen Connor Masterson, my mother, for that was how I thought of her. She had married my father when I was only seven. She had raised me for all intents and purposes. Somehow that fact merely made her more desirable to me.

I did not need to follow them directly to know where they were probably headed. The cool October evening was seasonal, but made any activities in one of the patio rendezvous unlikely. The four small open pavilions were provided with heat lamps, and with the maze hedges blocking the wind would be comfortable enough for, shall we say, amorous activities. But I doubt my parents and their paramour were headed for anywhere other than the enclosed pavilion at the heart of the maze.

There were many routes through the maze, and I knew them all. I arrived at the heart shortly after the three adults.

Standing at one of the openings into the heart I found that the softly lit glass enclosed pavilion was fully revealed to me. Almost as if it had been designed to be that way.

My father and Victoria, Vicky, as they called her, were embracing. This was no friends embrace. Their lips were locked and their hands were moving over each other, tugging at clothing. My mother stood by the glass door watching them.

When finally my father had Vicky naked his hands moved over her ass as he kissed her perfect breasts. His cock was in her hand and she was stroking it as they kissed.

My own member was every bit as hard as his, tenting my slacks. I moved my hand over it, feeling the voyeuristic pleasure.

Vicky knelt and I saw her head bob as she took him in her mouth. My mother watched, her own hands caressing her still covered breasts.

I came. The mere brush of my hand on my clothed member caused me to shoot my load into my shorts.

Mom stepped up to the pair now. She reached out to touch Vicky’s head with one hand while her other touched my father’s face as she kissed him.

I sagged against the hedge, expended, but too weak to move away. I continued to watch.

My father reached for my mother’s blouse and began to unbutton it as his blonde fellatrix continued to work on his cock. Her breasts were exposed. Mom knelt beside Vicky and between them they began to share my father’s cock.

Then they kissed.

My prick was hard again. Vicky continued to run her hands over my father’s cock, but now her mouth was pressed on my mother’s as their tongues dueled. The night was cool, but I was sweating.

My father reached down and grabbed Vicky by her shoulders. He pulled her to her feet and out of my mother’s arms.

He moved her over to the bed. She bent over so that her arms were supported on the platform mattress. I could see her perfect ass, pointing out at me, until my father stepped behind her and slipped into her. I could see his ass move as he thrust into her. Her head was jerking around, her hair dancing.

My mother stood and dropped her slacks, peeling the lacy panties off to stand as naked as the others. She stepped behind my father and ran her hand over his ass. Her arm disappeared between his legs and I could imagine what her hand was doing.

My own balls tingled as I fought not to spontaneously explode again.

After a few minutes my mother moved. Walking around her lovers she climbed on the bed and slithered down. She splayed out her legs. I was too far away to see her pussy in detail. Which was probably all to the good because she reached out and pulled Victoria’s head into her crotch.

She began thrusting up into the blond head. There was little doubt what was happening. Soon my mother’s body was thrashing, her fingers entwined in the blond locks.

The pavilion was fairly soundproof. I could hardly hear the screams as my mother came on her lover’s tongue. When she was finished my father pulled out of Victoria. His cock was still iron hard and he climbed into the bed next to my mother. They kissed. His hands went down to caress her lower lips.

Victoria climbed on to the bed. Her body moved over my father’s and soon she was sitting on his prick. Her legs were spread on each side of his body and she was moving up and down on him. I could see his cock sliding in and out of her.

Mother was cumming again, her body writhing as father’s fingers slipped in and out of her. When she finished Victoria was still moving on him. Mother raised up on her knees so that she could reach Victoria. They kissed and mother’s hands moved over Vicky’s ass. When the kiss ended she bent down and took one of the bouncing nipples in her mouth.

Victoria scream.

Her orgasm seemed to go on and on. When it was finished she fell into my mother’s arms. They kissed as mother laid her down next to my father. Then she threw her leg over him and replaced Victoria on her husband’s cock.

Mother bend over so that her arms were around father’s upper body. Her ass moved not just up and down but her hips swivel. She bent lower and she kissed him. Victoria was now next to him and as my mother broke her kiss the blonde entwined her fingers in the red locks and kissed my mother with passion.

Suddenly my father jerked, his hips thrusting up, and I realized he was cumming into her. When he was finished she laid fully on top of him. Victoria melted into them and they became still

Karen:

I knew that it was probably going to be difficult for my brother to lose his mistress to his sister. He had brought Vicky into our lives, and though I knew he loved her, his wives were not in love with her. Their was no future for her in a relationship with Chance.

Unlike with Doug and me.

What I didn’t know was how difficult bringing Vicky into our marriage was going to be for our daughter Mandy. Though perhaps I should have. As a child Mandy was the most perfect little girl. She even seemed to accept the unusual relationship my brother had built with his wives Lacy and Dana. She doted on her cousins Jacob and Bridget, one who was Lacy’s and one who was Dana’s. As if having half sibling cousins from two different mothers was perfectly normal.

Then some time around her twelfth year she began to change. She started having trouble in school. She started having trouble with the staff, people she had known from most of her life. She was so troublesome that the woman who had been her nanny for years quit rather than continue to tolerate her abuse.

The announcement of Vicky’s impending relocation to the mansion did not go over well.

We chose the formal parlor for the discussion. It was a room located off of the foyer. Pocket doors allowed the room to be closed off from the rest of the house. The servants knew to avoid the area if the doors were closed. It was two weeks before Thanksgiving.

The last discussion in this room had been the rather ugly reveal of our swinger lifestyle to Mandy, who already had some idea of it. She had reacted with disgusts and raving. I expected little else now.

“Joey. Mandy,” Doug said. “I have called this family meeting because there is something we need to discuss. You know our good friend Vicky has stayed with us several times.”

“Good friend,” Mandy said under her breath.

“Mandy. You have something to say?”

“No Daddy.”

“Well it has been decided that Vicky will be moving in with us.”

“You mean, like in one of the guest suites,” Mandy said, looking unhappy.

“No dear,” I said. “In out suite.”

“I can’t believe this,” the girl said jumping to her feet. “How could you do such a thing?” She asked her father. She pointed at me. “It’s her isn’t it. She making you let her lesbo girlfriend move in.”

“Mandy,” Doug said. “You will not use those kinds slurs in this house. Apologize.”

“I will not. Mom would never have allow such a thing to happen,” she said of Eloise, her departed birth mother.

“Mandy stop,” her brother Joey said. “You don’t even remember Mom. You don’t know what she would have done.” Joey knew about Eloise’s promiscuous lifestyle.

“Whose side are you on?” she asked her brother.

“There are no sides, Man,” Joey said. “There’s just all of us.”

“No!” she said stamping her foot.

She ran to the doors and slid one of them open enough to slip through.

“That didn’t go well,” Doug said.

“Perhaps this is a bad idea,” Vicky said.

“No!” all three of us said. I understood Doug and I, but was surprised Joey was so adamant.

“She’s just being a brat,” my son said. “You and Dad can’t let they way she feels control whether you are happy or not.”

Doug looked his son over with obvious admiration. “I’m glad that you can be so mature about it Joey.”

“Uncle Chance and Aunt Lacy seem very happy with Aunt Dana in their lives. I was surprised when we first found out. But you always acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world. So do Nana and Popa. Mandy never had any problem with them. Now suddenly she’s being a bit ... brat about it.” He turned to Vicky then. “Please Vicky. Please come stay with us.”

Vicky moved in the week before Thanksgiving. Her tension with Chance was worked out over the New Years holiday. The tension with Mandy just seemed to grow. Sever punishment forced Mandy to at least tolerate Vicky

I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Mandy devised her own solution to the problem. She asked for a meeting in the formal parlor with Doug, Vicky and I. I should have suspect something when she included Vicky in the invitation.

“Daddy, I want to go to boarding school.”

“What?” Doug was shocked at the concept.

“I want to go to boarding school,” the girl repeated.

“Why?” he asked.

Mandy rolled her eyes. I could see she was struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. She had obviously figured out that her best chance was to sound reasonable rather than demanding. Finally she said, “I am not happy at my present school. I am not happy here right now. I want a fresh start.”

“But don’t you think you would be lonely at such a place?” I asked, not recalling I guess, how hard my final years of high school were.

“Boarding school was good for Victoria.” She looked at Vicky. “You liked it didn’t you?”

So that was why she was asked, I thought.

Vicky hesitated. I could see that she was struggling to decide how she should answer.

“It is what I’ve know, Mandy,” she said at last. “I can’t compare it to a private school such as you attend. I’ve never been at one. It could be hard, particularly during holidays, but of course you would come home for those. It could be challenging. It is very much different from what you’ve known.”

“I know. That’s why I want to try it,” she said looking very determined.

“Have you picked one out?” Doug asked.

“The Asheville School.”

“Never heard of them,” I said.

“They’re one of the top schools in the country,” Vicky said. “In North Carolina.”

“Mandy,” Doug said. “Run along we have to discuss this. We’ll probably want to talk more about it when we’ve checked things out.”

After she left Doug said, “Let’s take a walk.”

It was cold enough that I was surprised that Doug wanted to walk the maze at this time of year. But we pulled jackets out of the closet by the back entrance and wandered to the nearest maze entrance. We walked as we often did with Vicky between us, we three holding hands.

“What do you think she’s playing at?” Vicky asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “We aren’t really thinking of letting her do this?”

“Eloise was at boarding school for awhile,” Doug said. “After she and Thomas became intimate her parents sent her away.” Thomas was Eloise’s brother.

“Does Mandy know that?” Vicky asked, thinking of Mandy’s fixation on her mother.

I shook my head. “I don’t see how she could. I didn’t even know it.”

“It’s not likely,” Doug said. “Though I suppose Betsy or John could have mentioned it to her when she visited last year.”

“If they sent Eloise away because they found out about her and Thomas I can’t believe they would have discussed it with Mandy,” I said.

“I suppose that’s true,” Doug said.

Vicky sighed and looked like she wanted to say something.
“What is it, love?” Doug said, noticing too.

Finally she spoke. “I don’t want to sound like the wicked fiancee, but suppose this is just what she needs?”

“What!” Doug said a little too sharply.

“Hear her out darling,” I said touching his arm with my free hand.

“It was a very difficult time after my parents died,” Vicky said. “The relations between us were strained before their deaths and I was carrying a good deal of guilt around about that. Many of the other students had similar relationships with their parents. Of course my school was single gender, I do not believe Asheville is such.”

I stopped walking and released Vicky’s hand. I pulled out my phone and searched Asheville School. The page was rudimentary, with few links, more a billboard for the school than anything else.

“No it doesn’t appear to be,” I said, meaning that it was coed.

“Perhaps this is just what she needs,” Vicky continued.

One problem with life is that there are no control groups. We make a decision and see what the result are. Unlike in science we don’t have a comparison to see what would have happened if our decision had been different. Did Mandy turn out as she did because of the decision we made that day? Almost certainly. Would another decision have changed the outcome? Who can say? Would we have eventually gotten through to her if she was forced to stay with us? There is no way to know. There is no control group.

That summer was difficult. Joey became even more withdrawn when we announced Mandy would be attending Asheville in the coming year. I know he tried to reach out to her, but it was obvious to us that she was pushing him away. Just as she had pushed away her father and me.

Neil Gaiman said, “As we age, we become our parents.” In that summer I became my mother.

At sometime in his junior year my brother attracted the attention of my mother. Why this is so I do not know. At the time Chance had just lost his virginity. Perhaps that is why my mother began to see him less as a son and more as a man. I do not have that excuse because I know that my son was still a virgin when first I looked at him as a man instead of a son.

The weather in Tidewater is not conducive to year round operation of a swimming pool. The high water table in most of tidewater is not even very conducive to construction of in-ground pools at all. Community pools tend to be on ground that has been built up. Many homes have above ground pools which are covered or even emptied during the winter.

Doug and Eloise built an indoor pool with adjoining pool house in a separate wing of their mansion. It was popular during parties, particularly during the winter. As a pool it was rather small, far from Olympic size with water too shallow to support a diving board.

I suppose I could blame Victoria for my fall. My love for her was and is boundless, but I hold no illusions over her capability in either the areas of self-control or self-denial.

On this day in July I and my lover were sunning on the pool patio. The pool itself was enclosed in a steel and glass structure. In the winter this helped keep the heating bills down as the pool building acted very much like a green house. In the summer large sliding doors allowed for ventilation. The glass roof allowed for tanning all the time.

With my fair skin tanning was mostly a useless pastime for me. Broiling was more likely. Vicky, despite her blond hair seemed to tan easily. Often I, slathered in sun block, would join her, just for the company, on the deck next to the pool. Along one side of the enclosure was the pool house. The structure was sort of a mother-law-suite, with an outer sitting room and kitchen, bedroom and bath. The shower was over sized to allow use after swimming. We usually kept our swimwear there and would change and shower in the pool house. That building extended beyond the pool enclosure and had its own roof, complete with skylights in the bedroom.

We were laying on the deck sunning when Joey decided to come swim. As my son stepped out of the pool house I saw Vicky’s tongue swipe over her lips as her eyes followed Joey from the house to

pool.

Her hand reached out to touch me and I suddenly realized that she was looking at him as she would have a potential sexual partner. Though her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses I could see her chest heave as she watched his slow walk across the deck. Her bikini top was thin enough that I could see her nipples pebble up as they hardened in desire.

My attention shifted from her to him and I suddenly realized what she saw. This was a virile young man. His movements unconsciously mimicked his father. The trunks he wore, they were too short to be board shorts, revealed his muscular thighs and well formed legs. Joey ran track and his slim well formed body revealed that. To someone who bothered to look. I was looking now.

I felt a tiny rush as I imagined myself beneath that athlete’s body. The wetness in my bikini bottom had nothing to do with pool water. I suppose I must have gasped, because now Vicky was looking at me with a cat’s smile.

“Nice view, huh?” she said.

I just shook my head.

So started my repeat of my mother, Celia Connor’s, string of inappropriate behaviors. But Joey was not my brother Chance. He did not go blithely through life oblivious to teases of beautiful women, though he was not experienced enough to know how to deal with them either. His response, typically the initial physiological one, resulted in him popping a boner, followed quickly by his retreat from the room.

The situation was not made better by the fact that Vicky was playing too. Between the two of us we were probably ensuring a massive amount of material for a future therapist, as well as plenty of material for self gratification.

Unfortunately for us, Vicky and me, Doug is also not Chance.

On Valentine’s Day Vicky had presented herself to us in a hog-tie position. It was something she arrange with my mother Celia. Having seen a video of my brother taking her anal virginity with her in a similar position Doug and I were aware that ropeplay was something that Vicky was familiar with.

Home made porn was kind of a specialty of my mother. Her streak of exhibitionism, something I did not particularly share, resulted in quite a library of videos. Doug found them stimulating and watching them was often an aspect of our sexual play. The fact that they often included me was a bonus for him.

Since February, through the spring and summer, Vicky had arranged to teach Doug and I about the art of shibari. Doug determined to master the art because it gave Vicky so much pleasure.

In August Mandy left for The Asheville School. Vicky and my teasing of Joey became heated. By September Doug had had enough. His response was unexpected.

On this night when we retired there was a length of rope laying on our bed. Vicky and I entered the bedroom together and I could see the flush that rose on her as she saw the rope.

“I’ve something special planned tonight,” Doug said from behind us.

I was a little confused because during previous sessions Doug and I had conspired together to please our little bondage slut. This was something new.

Doug stepped up to Vicky and hugged her from behind. His hands reached up from her waist to press over her breasts. “You wouldn’t mine being tied up tonight for my pleasure, darling?” he breathed in her ear.

“Nooooo,” she sighed, pressing back into him.

He looked at me. “You don’t mind helping me, do you dear?” he asked.

I felt myself panting a little. Vicky’s orgasms under the rope were awe inspiring. I began to peel off her clothing as he continued to hold her, his lips kissing behind her ears and at the back of her neck.

“Sit on the bed,” he ordered her when she was nude. He moved her legs so they were crossed. Vicky moaned as the rope was pulled tight to bind her ankles. Doug rolled her on her stomach. He tied her arms behind her back. The ropes around her knees opened her up. He then passed the rope around her ankles and then along her back, causing her legs to be pull up. The way he tied her she was helpless, her mouth, ass and pussy all open for use.

“Doesn’t she look so ripe and ready to be used,” Doug said to me.

I moved to her and slipped my fingers into her slit. She was wet and her body pulled against her restraints.

“Oh she is so ready,” I said.

“She can wait a bit,” Doug said kissing me. His hands moved over me, pulling at my clothes. When I tried to return the favor he pushed my hands away. “Not yet, darling.”

When I was naked he walked me over to the bed, opposite from Vicky. He kissed me and I let him lower me to the bed. His hands moved over me and suddenly I found cold bracelets clamped to my wrists. Before I could move my right leg as likewise captured. His hand moved down my left leg and I let him lock the final cuff without contention.

Doug was still dressed. He walked away from my side of the bed and reached down to run his hand over Vicky. She moaned.

“Was there ever a man who had access to two such beautiful sluts?” he said running his hands over Vicky’s folds. The way she was tied she couldn’t see him and so his movements were unknown to her until his fingers actually rubbed across her clit.

“Ohhhh Lord,” she moaned.

“Two such horny, calculating, cock-teasing, inappropriate sluts,” he slapped Vicky’s ass and she wiggled in her bonds.

“How long did you think you two were going to be able to try to seduce my son, right under my nose, I might add, before I did something about it?” he said looking angry.

“Doug,” I said. “It was just a bit of harmless fun.”

“Oh yes,” he said turning to me, his hands still caressing Vicky. “I know all about the Connor’s harmless fun with incest.”

He stepped to where Vicky could see him. “And you. I expected Karen to lack self control when it comes to family members. But you. We bring you into our house and you want to cuckold me with my own son. I should just give you to him right now. I can have him up here in five minutes and right now I could let him ravage you and you would be helpless to stop it.

“Ahhhh! Fucking! Hell!” Vicky squealed.

“The fucking slut actually came,” Doug said, watching her trembling body. Then he stepped behind her again and began to move his hands over her bound body.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he asked. Vicky remained silent. I could see she was crying now. “Talk to me Victoria,” he said. It was the first time I ever heard him call her that. “I can’t give you what you want if you won’t tell me what it is.”

His fingers dug into her perfect ass, cupping it. “Tell me. Admit you want him.” His fingers rimmed her rosebud, sliding down to wet themselves among her folds, then moving back up to rim her.

“Oh God I want him so much,” she cried as his finger penetrated her ass. “Please. I’m sorry. Don’t send me away. I’ll be good. I promise. No. I can’t promise. I don’t keep promises. I’m so bad. I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh,” Doug said. “We’d never send you away. We love you. It’s OK to want him. You do want him, right?”

She nodded, as much as she could trussed up like she was.

“See wasn’t that easy,” he said bending over to kiss her pussy. Then his tongue lapped at her.

My cunt was running. Vicky heaved and pilled at her ropes as he lapped at her. It only took a few minutes then she was crying out, tears still streaming down her face.

When he finished he left her tied and walked around to me.

“So, my slutty little wife. Should I call Joey in here to ravage you both?”

I laughed. “Only if you want him to run back to his room, lock the door and not come out for a month.”

Doug covered his face with both hands and I could see he was trying not to laugh.

“Perhaps you’re right,” said not able to stop his own laughter.

“So besides giving Ms. Slut there a thrill,” I said. “Is there anything you hope to accomplish here?”

“I suppose I could say I’m trying to scare you two off.”

“It sounded more like you were thinking of offering us up.”

“You definitely are your mother’s daughter,” Doug said. “I guess there are worse ways Joey could learn about women than having two of the most talented sluts in Tidewater teach him.”

“Good. Now that’s settled can you please come fuck me. I can’t reach anything and my cunt is dribbling all over the bed after watching you and Vicky.”

Joey:

I had no idea how my life would move out of control when Victoria Henderson joined our household. A junior at the prestigious private school Mandy and I attended, my major goal was to remain unnoticed. Mandy seemed to have a knack for getting noticed, and not in a good way.

After seeing them with my father in the pavilion my nights were full of dreams of their lush bodies. My mother Karen had been populating my fantasies for several years. Certainly by age thirteen I knew enough about the parties to understand that she had probably been with lots of men besides my father.

Now Vicky also populated my dreams and fantasies. Of course the fact that she hadn’t raised me meant she was an even more alluring target of my lust. That she almost certainly also attended my parent’s parties meant she was every bit as promiscuous as my mother. Of course by now I knew about my birth mother’s promiscuity too. After all, she had started my parent’s parties long before either Karen or Victoria were involved.

Of course Mandy and I were to pretend that we were ignorant of what was happening in our house when we were sent away to be with first Mrs. Baker and then Mrs. Ambrose. When we returned late the next day evidence of the festivities were suppose to be cleared away. But the best cleaning crews could not erase all traces of such a hedonistic affair. So I would find traces, particularly in the maze, where I would often walk.