Chapter 5

"I'd do anything to get you into my world..."

I must make an admission right here.

Having two gorgeous women, naked and kneeling at your feet, telling you that they are your slaves is one hell of a mind blast. Don't let anybody tell you any different.

So, how does one actually deal with such an event?

I looked at the two lovely ladies, and they were looking up at me expectantly.

I ended up asking probably the stupidest question you could think of. "What do you mean, 'slaves?'"

Mary looked up at me. "That's not the right word, but the closest I can think of. There's something..." She paused, thinking of the right word. "Something... magical about you. Debbie and I both feel it."

I looked at Debbie, and she was nodding her head vigorously.

I shook my head. "Up until tonight, neither of us had ever met Debbie before!"

It was Mary's turn to shake her head. "Not true. She owns this apartment building. I've seen her a few times over the week or so."

Debbie was still nodding her head in agreement.

"So, do the two of you do this sort of thing often?" I asked.

Debbie giggled.

Mary looked at me seriously. "Never, Jim. In fact, until I woke up, I never considered sharing any guy with any girl."

"Me, neither," Debbie added.

I sighed. My dick was getting hard again. It was like I was a teenager again. Debbie noticed, and started flicking at it with her tongue.

"Stop that, Debbie!" I said.

"Can you answer me a question," Debbie asked.

"You mean, why am I refusing your services?"

"No," Debbie answered. "How do you know my name?"

"I... um... well..."

"You see?" Debbie asked. "That's how I know that you're our... Master. I mean..." Debbie looked at Mary for help.

"Do you know how we connected last night, Jim?" Mary asked.

"I'm still having trouble with that," I admitted.

"Debbie seems to have tuned into us," Mary explained. "It's through you that we met. It's like we're sisters with a common father, except the sex angle is weird. Maybe two slaves with one master, but that's not quite right, either."

This was too much for me to understand.

"You don't mind that the three of us are naked?" I asked Mary.

Mary shook her head. "I've never shared my man before, and never even considered it before. I felt Debbie come in, and I immediately felt some sort of kinship with her, even though she was having oral sex with you. Everything changed at that minute."

"I need some time to think things through," I said.

Both girls got up together, silently, and without any protest. They walked out of the living room into the bathroom. A few seconds later, I heard the water start. About thirty seconds after that, I heard some squeals coming from the bathroom, and I could tell that they were bathing together.

I sighed.

I thought back to that dream of mine. I know for a fact that I was dreaming when I first saw Debbie. How did she get into Mary's apartment?

I looked around, and didn't see any of her clothes--or Mary's, for that matter--on the floor. Did she walk downstairs naked?

How did I know that she lived upstairs, anyway? Nobody had told me that, but I knew it.

What does all this mean, anyway?

The girls had left the bathroom door open. I wondered if they wanted me to join in. They probably did, but I decided that it might not be a good idea.

I had found that Mary was quite insatiable last night--four orgasms (and I came during every one--which was even more unbelievable). I now had a second female to deal with... it seemed inhuman.

Moans from the bathroom interrupted my thoughts, and it was quite apparent that they were getting it on in there. I'd never seen two girls going at it before, except when Debbie and Mary were sharing my cock.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I tiptoed into the bathroom. There was steam coming out of the shower stall, and I could barely make out a body from behind the translucent curtain. There was darkness at the bottom, and it dawned on me that one girl was squatting down in front of the other.

I quietly moved the shower curtain so that I could peek in. Debbie had her face to Mary's crotch. Mary's eyes were closed, and her lips had a smile on them that made it clear she was enjoying Debbie's attentions.

My guess was that Debbie was bisexual, and was teaching Mary the ropes.

My boner wanted me to join the action, but my other brain decided to leave quietly. I did, silently closing the bathroom door behind me.

I realized my mistake almost immediately. Now, I not only had a boner so hard that it hurt, but I also had to piss something awful. I had closed the door, so getting into the bathroom again wasn't going to be as quiet as the last time.

Debating what to do, I heard a girl's voice cry out in pleasure. To my surprise, it wasn't Mary's voice, but Debbie's. Did they trade places?

I needed to get dressed. Walking around the apartment naked with two nude females wasn't going to allow me to figure things out.

I went into Mary's bedroom, and looked for my clothes from the previous evening. After a few minutes, I was dressed. I decided to go without my boxers, since the ones from last night were dirty.

When I left the bedroom, I saw Mary and Debbie sitting on Mary's sofa, both girls wearing towels around their heads--and nothing else.

"Debbie, where are your clothes?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Upstairs."

Figures.

I tried to figure out if the two girls were the same size. They looked about the same, with Mary a bit older and maybe a few pounds on Debbie. Mary's hips were a bit broader than Debbie's.

"Can you find something to put on here?" I asked.

She looked at Mary and then sighed. "I guess..." she pouted.

"You too, Mary. Get dressed, and let's all have some breakfast."

The two girls quickly got up and went into Mary's bedroom.

I expected them to start going at each other on Mary's bed, but I didn't hear any such activity going on. After about ten minutes, they both emerged. Debbie wearing a pair of jeans that would have been skin tight on Mary, but seemed to fit Debbie just wonderfully. Mary was wearing jeans that were tighter on her. Both girls decided to wear tube tops; Debbie's was pulled so low that I could almost see the tips of her nipples peeking out.

When they saw me, they smiled. Mary asked me if I wanted breakfast. Debbie looked me in the eyes and announced that she was hungry for a sausage, and then looked down at my crotch pointedly in order to make it clear what kind of a sausage she was considering.

"Um... how about some actual food?" I asked.

"Fine. What will you guys have?" asked Mary.

Mary got our breakfast orders, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Debbie asked Mary if she could borrow her phone, and Mary said fine. Debbie looked at me, and told me she would call her assistant and tell her that she was going to be staying in today.

I didn't see any problem with that.

Debbie made a call. I only heard half the conversation, of course, but it sounded like the person she called was named "Amy."

Debbie's call wasn't that long, and about fifteen minutes after she hung up the phone, Mary came back in from the kitchen with a tray holding three bagels and three steaming cups of coffee.

After that marathon lovemaking session last night, I needed the caffeine in my system. I drank mine black.

When I bit into the bagel, I was in for a big surprise. They were... GOOD!

I need to digress from my story here. I promise to keep it short.

When I was first stationed in the service, I had a friend nicknamed "Brooklyn" (due to his accent, of course). He once took me on a train ride to his home, and when he arrived there, the first thing he did was take me into a bagel shop.

"What's this?" I asked Brooklyn.

"A bagel shop. Don't they have any where you live?" he asked.

I told him that I was from the other coast. All I knew about bagels were that they were things you got from your freezer.

"Frozen bagels? You got to be shittin' me!" he cried.

The shop we went into smelled like a bakery back home, with a big difference. There were other smells that I had never associated with a bakery before... onion... and even garlic!

Brooklyn went straight to the counter and yelled to the lady behind the counter, "Martha? Your ol' man still got you workin' in this piece of shit?"

Martha looked at Brooklyn, and burst out with the biggest smile that I'd ever seen. "Anthony!" she shouted. "You're back from the war!"

"Ain't-a gonna study war no more!" he sang gleefully. He pointed to me and said, "This here's Jim and we're gonna be here for a few days."

Martha was walking around the counter to get closer to Brooklyn. I hadn't been ready for the family reunion that was happening.

She made it to Brooklyn, and then hugged him so tight to her bosom that I thought he would suffocate.

"Watch it, Martha," he yelled, although his voice was muffled by her large body. "I don't need no nursin'!"

Martha held the hug for a few seconds more, and then seemed to notice me. She released Brooklyn, and took a couple of steps in my direction.

Instinctively, I stepped back, and found myself against the closed door to the shop. "Welcome, Jimmy. Any friend of Anthony is a friend of mine!" she said as she drew me into a hug.

The reason I digressed into that flashback is because I experienced my own flashback as I bit into that bagel.

That bagel Mary had prepared had brought to mind that image of that time in Brooklyn where I had my first "real" bagel. Warm, doughy, and dripping with butter on the inside slice. Sliced twice... not toasted. A real, honest to goodness bagel.

"This bagel is... wonderful!" I gushed, immediately taking another bite. "Are freezer bagels this good nowadays?"

Mary looked at Debbie, and shook her head no. "No. I was going to make some English muffins for breakfast when there was a knock at the kitchen door. An Asian girl had a bag with a half dozen onion bagels and told me that Debbie had told her to deliver them."

I looked at Debbie in confusion.

"Delivery? From where? Brooklyn?"

Debbie grinned at me. "Not Brooklyn. There's a bagel shop just around the corner..."

"Wait a minute!" I interrupted her. "A bagel shop... ? In California?"

"Of course," she said, wondering what I was confused about. "There have been bagel shops here for years."

"Years?" I asked, not believing. I could still remember thinking about how somebody could make a fortune by opening a chain of bagel shops on the west coast back when I was stationed in New York.

Mary had a worried look on her face, and it hit me all of a sudden why I was confused.

I had been in a coma for a dozen or so years!

An uneasy silence descended in the living room, as this all hit me. Debbie looked at me, and then Mary, trying to figure out what was going on.

Mary caught Debbie's confusion, and called my name, softly. "Jim?"

I looked up at Mary. "Uh... yeah?"

"Do you think I should explain to Debbie about how..." she paused, trying to think of the right word. "How we... met?"

I suddenly got an image of myself as Rip Van Winkle, and started to giggle. This eased the tension considerably, and Mary started to giggle. After a couple of seconds, even Debbie was giggling.

"Um..." said Debbie, in between giggles. "Why are we... (giggle)... laughing?"

"Tell her," I instructed Mary.

Mary proceeded to tell the story of my accident to Debbie. I listened, fascinated, since this was one of the first times that I had ever heard Mary describe it from her point of view.

When Debbie had heard that I had been in a coma for years, her eyes opened wide. Then, as Mary explained about visiting daily at the hospital, Debbie's eyes took on a more maternal look when she looked at me.

Mary explained how we met in her dreams, which Debbie understood right away, since I guess that is how I met Debbie, herself.

I finished that wonderful bagel, and ate the bacon from my plate as Mary brought Debbie up to date. I found myself helping Mary (OK. I was interrupting her. Big deal!) when she started describing the stuff that had happened more recently.

When Mary and I were done with the story, Debbie looked from me to Mary and just shook her head. "You know, that's about the most romantic thing I've ever heard. It was a match made in the heavens, like you said, Mary!"

We smiled, and then looked at each other. I then looked at Debbie, wondering if there was any jealousy over my feelings for Mary. I didn't see any... just love. Weird.

Something had been nagging at me while Mary had been telling her story. I thought hard, and it came to me.

"Mary, you said that the Asian girl brought SIX bagels?"

Mary looked at me and laughed. She was about to go back into the kitchen when Debbie corrected me. "That would be Aimee, my assistant. She's not Asian, she's Polynesian."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary said.

"Not a problem, Aimee say that it's a common mistake."

"I'll remember that," I said.

Mary left into the kitchen and came back with another bagel, still warm, and like the first one, it was also dripping with butter.

This was MY idea of heaven, anyway.

Breakfast was long gone, and we were just lounging in the living room, making small talk.

It suddenly occurred that I didn't know anything about Debbie... except that she was Mary's landlady.

"So, Debbie. You've heard the story of Mary and me. How did you become the landlady here?" I asked.

"I'm not the landlady," Debbie replied, simply. "I own the building."

"You own the building?" I repeated.

"Actually, most of the whole block. That's how I knew that Goldstein's Bagels were downstairs," she explained.

There was a bagel shop downstairs and I never knew it? Mary caught my reaction, and figured out what I was thinking and giggled.

"So. What's your story? How did you end up owning a building?" I asked.

Yes. It's time for another digression.

Debbie's mother died when Debbie was about fifteen.

Her father was devastated by her mother's death, and afterward, put all his effort into his work. Debbie had seen very little of her father before, and she now saw even less of him after the death of her mother. He had worked for the government before, and now had an agency on Wall Street, always going after bigger and bigger deals. He was a successful broker, and had his own firm. All Debbie knew was that he was making money hand over fist, and the more money he had, the more that his job demanded of his time.

After graduating from the private school Debbie attended after the death of her mother, Debbie got a scholarship to a couple of colleges, and her father wanted her to go to an ivy league school. He had hoped that she'd get her MBA and join him in his business.

Debbie, on the other hand, saw what his blind pursuit of money had gotten him... loneliness. She didn't want that.

Instead, Debbie took one of her scholarships and went to a lovely little private school on the west coast. She majored in liberal arts. "So I could learn how to enjoy life," she explained.

She did very well in college, becoming the class valedictorian. Her father was proud. So proud, in fact, that he was going to fly out to the west coast on a special trip to see her commencement address.

Unfortunately, the flight he was on never made it to California. There was a malfunction in the plane, and the crew tried to make an emergency landing. They were unsuccessful, and her father was among those that perished on that flight.

The airline offered to fly Debbie out to the place where her father died. She had been prepared to accept when she got a call from "Uncle Chuck," her father's best friend and business partner. He told Debbie to take a different flight and meet him in New York, instead.

She decided to take Chuck's advice, and there was a first class ticket for her waiting for her flight to JFK. When she arrived, Chuck met her at the gate and gave her a big hug. He took her to the firm's main office in Manhattan, and explained that they knew that Debbie had undergone a great loss. They also explained to Debbie that her father was quite a rich man... extremely rich.

Debbie and Uncle Chuck went together to the Midwest to identify and claim her father's body. Since neither her father nor Debbie were particularly religious, she had his remains cremated.

It was a few days before the will was read, and Debbie found herself the beneficiary of just less than eight hundred million dollars. She also found out that there was a couple of bank accounts that her father had in her name, totaling millions more. She also held stocks in her father's firm and other companies as well, which she decided to have Uncle Chuck proxy for her.

All told, Debbie had liquid assets of more than two hundred million dollars, and close to four times more than that in other assets. Her father also had some properties all over the country, which she inherited.

The brokerage was relieved that Debbie wasn't going to liquidate all her father's assets. In actuality, Debbie didn't have the heart to truly disband the company that her father had spent his whole life building. Besides, she could use the brokerage to manage her assets. Debbie allowed Chuck to run his own company, Penet Holdings, with Malen Associates' clientele, and left the original company as a holding company for her newly acquired assets. Charles Penet would manage Malen Associates for her.

Chuck and Debbie selected a portfolio of stocks and other investments, some high risk and high yield, some low risk with small but steady growth. Chuck said that her portfolio was much more conservative than her father's had been, but then, she already had her first million when she started!

Debbie also met her father's personal assistant, a young Polynesian woman named Aimee who was about the same age as Debbie. Chuck had told her that Aimee had been working for her father for a few years, but she was extremely bright and with people. Aimee and Debbie got along right off the bat, and Debbie offered to have Aimee continue working for her if she wanted to. Aimee agreed and became her personal assistant.

If Chuck had been the one to see to Debbie's financial future, it was Aimee that had taken Debbie from a recent college graduate and new orphan and taught her the ropes of the world of high finance.

At Aimee's advice, she hired two more staff.

The first was a driver named June. Aimee explained that when you are worth millions of dollars, it is not an extravagance to have a chauffeur but a necessity. If Debbie were to drive and get into an accident, lawyers could make her pay every last cent that she owned. Her chauffeur June loved driving, and even had a pilot's license.

Debbie hired her next staff member after Uncle Chuck had explained that among her father's "miscellaneous" assets was a converted 737 jet. The jet was in a private air strip at a recently closed Air Force Base. When Aimee, June, and Debbie went to take a look at it, they met a Filipino lady named Mely who worked at the air strip. It turned out that although June had a pilot's license, she had no certification on a jumbo jet. Mely, however, did.