Chapter 3: The Sick Bastard Makes Some Changes

26 April 2017 [Wed]

I woke with a hard-on that had freed itself during the night. Not uncommon for me, but it was unheard of for it to be nestled between the soft but toned cheeks of an amazing ass. I had a woman in my bed; a red-head with C or D breasts–it was hard to tell with our relative angles. Her nightshirt had ridden up to her hips revealing that amazing ass.

Then I remembered who had slept in my bed.

My next thought was an urge to rub my cock between her legs until she was slick, pull back, get a good angle, and wake her up with a hard thrust. I wondered, ’would she moan in pleasure or scream for help?’, and then ’she’s my sister, when did I get so perverted?’. Instead, I gently lifted my arm from under her head and tucked my best friend away.

My alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so I lay there watching her sleep and trying to figure out where these incestuous desires had come from. I finally decided it was the loss of my hatred for her. My hatred had made me think of her asexually, just like being raised as part of a loving family would have, but now that hate had taken that compunction with it when it left. Now, here I was lying next to one of the most beautiful, sexy, bare-assed woman I had ever met. ’If this is one sided, I know this is as far as it will ever go; however, if she returns my feelings, I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist, even with my magically enhanced willpower.’

I heard birdsong and I checked the clock; it was 6:25.

“Rachel, wake up.” She didn’t stir, so I repeated it a little louder, “wake up Rachel.”

Rachel turned to me, smiling, and whispered, “Hmmm, good morning.”

“I think you should be in your room when everyone’s alarms go off. Also, if you ever want to sleep here again, you should wear bottoms, or at least panties.”

She stood up, turned to face me, and said, “Okay, see you soon.” Then, and only then, she straightened her nightshirt to cover her beautiful, well-groomed pussy, winked, and left the room. ’I think I’m in trouble.’

With no school, my morning went slowly. While the others were showering, I was lying in bed. While the others were dressing, I was lying in bed. While the others were eating, I was –you guessed it– lying in bed. Mrs. Combs brought breakfast to my room as everyone else was leaving. She said she and my mother would be here if I needed anything. I told her I would be okay and I used my cell to call Mom’s and convince her she should go to work.

After eating, I set about managing the vending company. I interviewed the temps to find a permanent employee to keep the machines stocked. I reviewed yesterday’s sales report (I should have done it while I was busy at the hospital) and emailed the order to my new permanent employee. I purchased the truck that had been rented and leased a suite at a building owned by the trust.

I was about to call Mr. Gruffudd to reschedule my appointment for later at home, when Mrs. Combs knocked on my door. The police were investigating the shooting. They said it was unlikely charges would be pressed; Brad was unresponsive and the doctors had no idea how to treat him. However, they wanted to gather the evidence and witness statements in case he recovered. They asked why he had shot me. I said he thought I had had sex with his girlfriend because I had given her a soda at lunch and then we had left about the same time. I told them that I didn’t know who could have told him that, because they didn’t eat together. That’s when I decided to discover how he had found out before returning to school.

Once I had answered all their questions, they left and I called Mr. Gruffudd. He said he would come over and do Rachel’s and my paperwork after closing the office.

I called Aunt Lauren, my father’s least hated sister, to ask how she felt about dad now that he was dead. She still hated him, so it wasn’t Rachel’s death that had exorcised my hatred for her; I needed a new theory. I also learned that Lauren had become an artist living on the interest from her inheritance, but had been conned a few years back and was now barely scraping by as a waitress.

My next call was to a notary public that made house calls for a premium fee. I had an idea and would need a notary and Mr. Gruffudd to alter the family trust. My changes were to help Aunt Lauren, but also, if I felt my aunt was mistreated by the terms of the trust, then my sisters were also being treated unfairly, and even though I hated them, I was a stern believer in fairness. I like to say, “The world isn’t fair; which is why we need to be.”

I pulled up a digital copy of the trust’s paperwork. The trust had three tiers of beneficiaries. The primary beneficiary, described as Willem Thélisi’s oldest adult male descendant by blood, who has control over the trust. Secondary beneficiaries, described as any son by blood of Willem Thélisi and any son by blood of any secondary beneficiary, who receive a portion of the trust’s monthly gains. Tertiary beneficiaries, described as any daughter of Willem Thélisi or any secondary beneficiary, who receive 1% of the trust’s assets as a dowry. I made some changes, and then I printed three copies.

Once I was ready for my appointment, I waited by training to use only my left hand for common tasks. I practiced my hand-writing, typing, playing computer and phone games, making a snack–with Mrs. Combs keeping an eye on me, and I even got some practice watching porn left-handed.

Mom got home about 5:45 and came by my room to check on me. Fortunately, I was using my head phones, had the screen angled away from the door, and had my friend hidden below the desktop. I closed the movie player and put away my friend, as I replied.

“I’m good Mom; I don’t think it’s as bad as the doctor said, but I am taking it easy. Mr. Gruffudd is coming by soon and I need you there as Laura, Chantal, and Angela’s guardian. I’m thinking of making some changes to the trust and will need you to sign off.”

“What kind of changes?”

“Just modernizing it. Removing the reference to dowries. That sort of thing. But I only want to go over the details once, at the meeting with Mr. Gruffudd. I can make the changes on my own, after Angela turns 18, but I think it’s better sooner than later.”

“Okay, I’ll...” But Mom was interrupted by the doorbell. She turned and left, but said as she was leaving she said, “If that’s him, I’ll bring him up here.”

“If that’s who?” asked Rachel, stepping in as Mom stepped out.

“Mr. Gruffudd. He’s coming by to make up for our missed appointments yesterday. You can either join us or meet with him alone after we’re done. It’ll be BYOC, Bring Your Own Chair.”

“I’ll go grab one.”

“Can you grab another one? I have another guest coming for the meeting.”

“No problem,” she said and she left, presumably to get two chairs.

Before she got out the door, the bell rang again. Hopefully, that meant everyone was here. So, I placed a set of paperwork on each side of my desk’s wing and took a 3ᴿᴰ copy with me when I moved to sit on my bed. Rachel was the first one back but with only one chair. She placed it next to the desk and was joining me on the bed when Mom, Mr. Gruffudd, and a six-foot tall, amazon-like woman I assumed was Ms. Winters, the notary public I had hired, stepped through my door.

“You should have told me about Ms. Winters; she was trying to explain that she was expected when Mr. Gruffudd arrived.” Mom sounded a little annoyed.

“Sorry, Mom. Mr. Gruffudd, can you take the seat at the computer. I may need you to make changes to those documents once we review them.” Once everyone was seated, I continued. “Once Rachel and my distributions are made, I want to transfer the remaining assets to a new, more modern trust. So, first, what do Rachel and I need to do?”

“All you have to do is fill out a short form. I brought three for each of you. The first is a transfer form that authorizes us to electronically transfer your funds to an existing account so you can manage it yourself. The second sets up an investment portfolio to invest a part or the entirety of your distribution with us. The last is to set up a personal trust to hold the distribution with us as trustees. You can choose to do more than one and each form has a place to specify a percentage of your distribution to apply to that method.

“You can get to work on these, –” he said as he handed us the paperwork, “–while we discuss the new trust.”

“I have been looking over the trust’s history and it seems unfair given modern views. The Willem Thélisi Trust of 1370 was updated just before the civil war when Angus and his son Michael were the only beneficiaries. They were both in America and wanted to reword the trust in American legal jargon, filed under American law. The W. Thélisi Trust of 1856 at that time was barely over a $10 million, about $300 million in today’s terms, and the monthly distributions were only around $4,000, or 120,000 today. The trust has grown more than 30 times as fast as inflation since then. Both trusts were created when women were supposed to get married and be someone else’s problem; heck, in 16ᵀᴴ century Ireland a woman could only own property if she had no surviving male relatives.

“The WTH Trust of 2017 is modernized; not only its language but its intent. Instead of just biological children, it now recognizes adopted children and wards as tertiary beneficiaries. With the new trust, secondary beneficiaries receive a lower, more reasonable monthly amount, 1% instead of 10% of the net gains; about $1 million instead of 10 million. And tertiary beneficiaries will still get their 1%, but they also get a monthly amount, 1/10 of 1% of the net gains; about $100,000. Every beneficiary, not just the primary, will be able to stay on the castle grounds for free. And child beneficiaries get a larger monthly distribution through their parent or guardian, who can still request additional help from the trustee or the primary.

“So, read through the details. I left both the current trust and the new trust open on the computer if you just want to compare the changes to the original and I’ll get these filled out.”

I chose the simple fund transfer. I wanted to manage my own investments and get some experience, like with managing my vending company, before taking a more active role in managing the trust. The form was already mostly filled out. Rachel and I were finished and left with plenty of time to wait; while Mom and Mr. Gruffudd continued to read the new trust’s paperwork. Once the new Trust Deed had been read, we discussed it and my call with Aunt Lauren, some minor changes were made in the wording, new forms were printed, and we signed. I signed as a Grantor since I was a beneficiary of the old trust. Mom signed three times as Grantor in her role as guardian of a beneficiary. Finally, Mr. Gruffudd signed as the administer of the trust, employed by the Trustee.

I paid Ms. Winters, and Mom showed her out. Rachel and I took their seats while Mr. Gruffudd signed onto his laptop, processed our forms, transferred $10 million to my savings account, $625,000 to Rachel’s savings, and set up a managed investment portfolio for the rest of her $104 million. That took him about 25 minutes and then Rachel walked him out.

‘It’s after seven Central Time. Amber is off duty and should be at her cabin,’ I thought. After not getting answers from my talk with Aunt Lauren, Amber was my best bet to figure out what was happening with Rachel, so I made the call.

“Hello, this is Amber Michaels.”

“Máistreás, it’s William.–” Calling her the Gaelic word for Mistress meant I was calling as her apprentice, not an equal. More of a courtesy, since I was actually a journeyman Vate instead of her apprentice. “–I need advice about something that happened yesterday.”

“I’m surprised that you would need my help. You’re the most studious apprentice I’ve ever had. How can I help?”

“My sister, Rachel, pushed me out of the way of a bullet, it killed her, and I brought her back, with Life and Death...”

Amber interrupted me. “And you’re still alive. Never mind, we’ll deal with that later; are you dealing with a revenant or a living corpse?”

“Neither, it worked perfectly, and luckily, a family legacy either saved my life or brought me back. The problem is another magical family legacy, the mutual hatred I have with my sisters; after what happened, I no longer hate her. Since then, I also have had a growing sexual desire for her and she’s acting like it’s mutual. How do I stop it? And how do I make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

“For the sexual attraction, the answer is probably psychological or sociological, not mystical. Most siblings develop an aversion to each other as they mature sexually. I’m guessing your hatred made that unnecessary, and now that it’s gone you don’t have that aversion.

“I think the cause of that change is the universal principle expressed by the druidic truism ‘a selfless act can change enduring hatred to enduring love.’ If your sister knew she was risking her life to protect you, and you knew the price of bringing her back like that, then that would explain the breaking of the legacy.

“Stopping it is harder. Making alterations to the mind, after such a sudden change, would have unpredictable and possibly dangerous side-effects for both of you, and making such changes to oneself is never a good idea. I would recommend either both of you use a proxy to stay sated while you get over it, or a good birth control method if your concern is only practical and not moral.”

“Crap. I just gave all of my sisters a bigger part of the family trust and reduced my share. Did I just make my problem five times worse?”

“Only if you are already their type. It wouldn’t make you attractive to them; it would only remove that obstacle. Besides, your youngest sisters are still young enough, they should develop the natural aversion.” Her response made me feel better.

“Thanks. So, that’s settled. I haven’t heard from you lately; how are things going for you?”

“I’m good; I still love my job and my home, and I have a new girlfriend, who I am falling in love with. I haven’t told her about magic yet, but she’s Wiccan so I think she’ll be okay with it. She should be here soon; I’ve got to go.” Her last girlfriend was receiving psychiatric help after making ‘insane claims’ about druids running the National Forest Service.

I said, “I’m happy for you. Best fortune to you, Vate. I’ll let you know how things turn out; please do the same. Bye.” And then hung up and went for dinner.

When I went downstairs for dinner, I noticed a change in my sisters. They stayed and ate with me. However, while they were less antagonizing towards me, there attitude toward each other was the same. And I still hated them.

When I got back to my room I was met by Sally. Unlike yesterday morning, she wasn’t waiting by my door. She was sitting at my desk; in the guest chair she had used when we shared breakfast. I thought about returning her affection, making her the proxy that Amber had recommended. I was met with the feeling of certainty that I would be violating my family’s oath, to protect hers, if I proceeded.

“I ... I brought your assignments from school.”

‘Why is she was looking at her feet again. Yesterday morning, she had really opened up and I had hoped that would continue. Looks like the next 50 odd years are going to be awkward.’

“Thanks, that was thoughtful. Is there anything I can do to return the favor?”

“No. No thank you,” she said as she stood and hurried out the door.

As she stepped out, Rachel stepped in. “I came for my chair ... and to see if I could help with your bandages.”

“Thanks, but I have to take a bath before the new bandages can be applied.”

She looked down to my groin and then back to my eyes. “I could help with that, too.”

“I suppose it makes sense to have someone help me get in and out with just the one arm. Take your chair back, and I’ll meet you in the bathroom.” I followed her out the door, grabbing my bathrobe.

Once in the bathroom, I quickly stripped. My towel was one of those designed to wrap around, it even had Velcro to hold it together. I was able to wrap it around myself by holding one end in my right hand and moving it to my waist after connecting the Velcro. It took longer than I had hoped and was relieved to be modest before Rachel arrived.

Unfortunately, Rachel had changed into her silk robe. It somehow managed to show every curve and yet showed no panty or bra lines. I started intently reviewing my options for a proxy.

Amy; 5-foot 8, hazel-eyed brunette with powerful long legs, amazing stamina from her cross-country running, and D cup breasts. She was my first ‘study’ partner and would be a good proxy; she’s smart, athletic, and adventurous. We’ve had several ‘study’ groups with her friends and teammates. However, we only ‘study’ when she doesn’t have a boyfriend and she’s with Mitch.

Linda; 5-foot 11 with green eyes, raven hair, and DDs. When Linda heard about Amy and I ‘studying’, she asked me to ‘study’ with her as well. She would make a great proxy, we’re even going to Prom; except she’s in love and ‘studying’ is just her way biding her time as she waits for the guy to notice her.

Sarah; 6-foot 2, blue-eyed brunette with Cs. She was my next regular ‘study’ partner and we ‘studied’ from Halloween to finals week our sophomore year. She wouldn’t be a good proxy; as far as I know, Sarah has only ‘studied’ with girls since the time we ‘studied’ in a group session with Linda.

Erica; 5-foot 9, blue-eyed blond with Cs. She has only been my ‘study’ partner for less than a year, but is the most enthusiastic one. She runs cross-country with Amy, and Amy brought her to ‘study’ with us when her Junior Prom date drove her home without giving her a ride first. We were her first ‘study’ partners. Since then, she has been in ‘study’ groups with: Amy, Linda, Sarah, and me. If all I need is a sexual proxy, she would be perfect.

If all I had needed was a sexual proxy, I had two good options. If all I had needed was a sexual proxy, I wouldn’t have needed a proxy, but my feelings for Rachel were more than sexual. Each of them is beautiful, smart, and fun, but each had a reason that they wouldn’t have worked.

As I went through my past study partners, I wobbled trying to step into the tub, unable to balance myself using the wall. Rachel caught me by the shoulders, and steadied me as I tried again. Then. taking my waist, she helped me sit, but also removed my towel on the way down. I was exposed to my sister, and my best friend thought it would be hilarious to start swelling.

She said, “oops.” But there was no embarrassment in her voice. I could feel her shapely, sexy legs behind me and she wasn’t getting out. Instead, she took off her robe and sat down behind me, stretching her legs around me. She removed and threw away the bandages. Once I was completely naked, she leaned forward and I felt her hard nipples against my back as she stopped the drain and started the water. By the time she turned off the water and leaned back, Buddy had gone from pulling a practical joke to full-on betrayal, he was longer and harder than I think he had ever been before. I reached for the soap but she beat me to it.

“I got this,” she whispered.

She immediately started on the back of my wound. She was gentle near the wound but got more vigorous as she moved outward. With my back spick’n’span, she pulled me backwards until I was leaning against her and gently started cleaning around the front of the wound. Again, she became vigorous as she got further away. When I thought there was nothing more she could wash from her position, she lathered up her hands and put the soap back in the caddy. I thought, ’I guess it’s time for her bath.’

But I was wrong. I was about to sit up and give her room when she grabbed Buddy and skipped the part where she started gently. She started vigorously stroking my cock with her left hand. Then she became gentle. Her right started massaging my balls as she sped up with her left. It was bliss. After a few minutes, she must have sensed that I was about to pop, because her left hand slowed, her right gripped tight, and I was pulled back from the edge. ’Where did she learn this.’ She repeated the cycle twice again before finally, after what seemed like an eternity, letting me cum. As the ecstasy wore off, I discovered my only regret was that my wound and our positions prevented me from reciprocating.