Chapter 9: Nesting In(di)stinct

"What?" Katie shook her head. A moment ago, she had been tonguing heavenly pecker nectar off Ms Moreno's chest. Now she was in a tall glass cubicle slowly filling with water. Paul was piled naked against the side of the cubicle, pressing his face and hands against the glass, repeating, "But my love! My love!" David stood beside his mother, sporting a four foot erection, looking at Katie. "What? What did you do, David?"

David shrugged. "I don't know. I just wished to find out the truth about you and Paul and this object. And suddenly you were in that glass box, with juices gushing out your pussy."

Katie looked down and, sure enough, the liquid filling the container was pouring out her vagina. "I don't understand, David."

"I don't either. Just tell me the truth, Katie. About you and this object."

"Well..."

I was doing my math homework, getting frustrated because the damn sines and cosines wouldn't behave, when I realized I was standing on Paul's front porch. Most bizarre. So I knocked on his door, intending to ask him how I'd gotten there.

Paul answered the door carrying that item you have in your hand there, David. He raised his brows and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I have no idea, Paul."

"You've come to steal my penis, haven't you?!" Which was a really odd thing to say.

"No, I was just doing my math homework when suddenly your front porch appeared under my feet and your door was in front of me."

"Liar," Paul shook the object -- it later turned out to be a mummified penis -- at me. "I was planning on using this later tonight on Ms Moreno, but since you've so kindly volunteered, I think I'll just try it out on you first."

He gripped the object in his fist, held it out and shut his eyes.

Suddenly, I found myself dressed like a harem girl, a thin purple veil draped in front of my mouth. And I felt like dancing. I HAD to dance. I wanted to dance to engorge hard-ons from all those that looked upon me. I gyrated into his house, and he shut the door behind me.

"I just wished for my very own harem girl, my love," Paul pressed his sad cheek up against the glass prison that held the most important person in the world to him now.

I had no idea that I could undulate like that. Then I backed my backside up to him and jiggled my butt cheeks like jackhammered jello. Then I turned around and swayed my torso with the hypnotic curves of an inquisitive snake.

"Wh-why... why am I doing this?" I asked him.

"Because I wish you to, you little whore. I was going to wish Ms Moreno huge extra-sensitive gazongas, but you showed up first, so now you're my lusty little sex-wench."

"But, Paul... , " I whined as I undulated to the side and swayed my bosom for him.

"You oughtn't to go where you're not supposed to," he said, wagging that penis at me.

So I snatched it from him.

"He wished for a harem girl when he should have wished for a slave girl," Lydia pronounced wisely.

"Hey!" Paul complained.

"I wish Paul was MY slave. Instead of ME dancing for HIM," I uttered brightly, and suddenly he was kneeling before me, kissing my feet, trying not to swallow any of the harem girl bells on my toes.

"Oh, this is NEAT!" I giggled.

"Please, my love, let me serve you."

"Tell me what's going on."

"Anything but that, my love. For I have sworn to another that-- "

"Paul! Tell me!"

"I cannot." I held up the mummified penis, though I still did not know that was what it was. "I wish that you had no choice but to tell me."

Suddenly, Paul was hunched over on the floor in front of me, naked, sporting a long erection that reached up to and just inside his mouth.

"Phleath! Ghathie! Thonth!"

How bizarre!

"Take your cock out of your mouth when you talk, Paul."

Holding onto it with both hands, Paul took his head of of his mouth. "Please," his voice trembled, "... please... if this thing goes off in my mouth, it will blow my brains out the back of my head!" Then he stuck the tip back in his mouth and looked up at me pathetically.

Okay. "Just tell me what's going on, Paul."

He took the cockhead out of his mouth again and swallowed hard. "Well..."

It's a penis. A marvelous, magical, mummified penis, my love.

I first learned of the artifact the day after my eighteenth birthday. My grandfather had come to visit my parents and me to celebrate my coming of age.

My mother had prepared a sumptuous feast that the four of us partook of. Afterward she brought out my birthday cake, with nine candles across top and nine candles across the bottom.

"Paulie," my grandfather told me before we cut the first slice, "Tomorrow, I have a rare and wonderful thing to show you, a true treasure of the ages. But you'll need to forgive me if I delay your gift until tomorrow. Tonight I need to get reacquainted with your mother."

Mom frowned, puzzled. Then she and my father exchanged a look: perhaps the old guy is starting to lose it.

My father made a joke about her being a wife now, and no longer a daughter, and grandpa had better stop flirting with his wife. Everyone laughed and we cut into the cake.

It was delicious. My mom has always been a good cook.

"Carol," Grandpa told my mom, "You have simply outdone yourself. But you always have been an overachiever. How can I ever thank you for such a wonderful meal?" He stood, unzipped and pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles, then began removing his shirt. "Perhaps a nice juicy suck on my cock?"

Mom and Dad exchanged a wide-eyed look, aghast. The old man HAD lost his mind! HOW were they going to come up with the money to keep him in a home?!

Grandpa fished in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a stick.

"Ohmigod!" Mom gasped.

"Remember this, baby cheeks?"

"Ohmigod! I had FORGOTTEN about that thing!"

"What? What IS it, Carol?" Dad asked, bewildered by her behavior.

"Get OUT! Get that thing OUT of my house NOW! And you too, you evil old man! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Carol," Dad soothed, "Calm down. Don't get so-- "

"Shut UP, James! I want that thing OUT of my house!" Mom was shrieking hysterically.

"She'll be okay in a minute, James," Grandpa told my Dad, holding the stick out. "By the way, James, have you ever considered what motivates a cross-dresser?"

"Hungh? I... well... hmmm. I guess that he needs to... I... I'll... be right back.

"You do that, James."

"JAMES! Don't LEAVE me!" Mom shrieked as Dad walked out of the kitchen.

Grandpa held the stick toward Mom. "Easy, punkin."

Mom looked like she'd just been sedated.

"See?" Grandpa asked me. "She's not REALLY so upset. She just forgot how good it feels, Didn't you, punkin?"

"Daddy?"

Grandpa shut his eyes for a moment, concentrating, then sat down, naked. I hadn't noticed it before, but his hard-on had to be at least eighteen inches long!

"C'm'here, sweetie-tits, and sit on Daddy's lap."

Slowly, shyly, Mom walked up to Grandpa and sat on his knee.

"There we go, little pussy-twat. Remember all the good times we used to have together?"

Mom smiled then and reached for Grandpa's erection, moving it around like a stickshift while she giggled. "Yeeeaaahhhh..."

"Hand me a piece of that cake, son," Grandpa told me as he loosened the waist of Mom's blouse.

I cut another slice, set it on a saucer, then turned to Grandpa. He had his hand up the front of Mom's shirt, squeezing a boob while she sighed deeply.

"Braless," he cackled. "You remembered how I like you!"

"Yes, Daddy," she gave a shy smile. "I did."

Grandpa grabbed the knob of his own rod. "Well, I remembered that you like to ride the big ones."

"Yes, Daddy," Mom hugged him, then started kissing his neck.

Grandpa unbuttoned Mom's blouse and pulled it back to reveal that she really had been walking around braless tonight! I never would have imagined that of my mother!

"Thanks, Paulie," Grandpa told me as he pinched the icing off he top of her cake slice I was holding out to him, then spread it all over Mom's boob.

God, her nipples were poking out as she moaned and giggled!

"I'm gonna want to lick you clean later, honey cunt."

"Oh, Daddy," Mom giggled, laying a hand tenderly on her father's chest.

"Sweetie, do you have any high heels for larger shoe sizes?" Dad asked as he re-entered the kitchen.

I looked up at him, and...

Good God!

... he had on a garter belt and black hose, runs all through them where he had stretched them too wide over his thick thighs. Crimson lipstick glowed from his lips and from his... egads!... nipples. A purple ribbon was used to choke off the base of his penis, and clothespins angrily lined its length.

"Jack! You whoring slut! You look positively hideous," Mom giggled.

"No," Dad stuck his lip out to pout, then tossed his head to accent the lovely mane that he simply did not have. "I am... beautiful. And you are... simply jealous!"

"D'ya ever wonder," Grandpa asked him, "How any self-respecting male could ever cum from having a high heel wriggled around inside his anus?"

Dad frowned, then wagged a finger at Grandpa. "That... that sounds absolutely delightful!" He exited the kitchen again to Grandpa's chuckle and Mom's giggles.

"I'm sure this all looks strange to you right now, Paulie. But it will all make sense after I explain it to you in the morning. Tonight, though, I need to make deposits into several of your mother's orifices."

Giggling and smiling, Mom followed Grandpa back to the bedroom.

I walked into the den, stunned, and sat in a chair. Wow!

A few minutes later, Dad wandered out, got on his hands and knees -- he had drawn red circles in lipstick around his ass to form a bullseye! -- and reached behind to pump a high heel in and out of his rectum.

"Good God, Dad! Do that in PRIVATE!"

"You're right, son." Dad stood, walked to the closet and stepped inside. Soon there were gasping moans coming from the closet.

I walked back to listen at the bedroom door instead. I couldn't believe that Mom was in there... snuggling?... french kissing?... petting?... fucking?... gasping as she blew her brains out with sex?... with Grandpa.

I could hear her screams through the door. "Ohgod, Daddy! No! Not there!... not--... oh YES! YES! Oh FUCK!"

Wow! Mom was being SUCH a slut! I walked back to my bedroom to masturbate.

BLAM!

I had seen Paul's pecker start to twitch, but the sheer volume of that massive cannon firing startled me. "Paul?" I looked, and there was a hole in the ceiling in the kitchen corner, cum starting to ooze down from it.

"That... that could have been my head, Katie!"

His erection was already nearly re-inflated and nearly ready to fire again -- a semiautomatic, I guessed. "Put the end back in your mouth while I think," I told him."

"But, Katie! I-- mmphmmth! Wthiph th rroth oph arrmm?!"

"Hush, Paul."

"Mmmph!"

Was he being defiant? Dare he?! I bent over and yanked up my tiny dancer's top to flash him.

His eyes widened in fear as his cock swelled. But it didn't go off again, to his relief.

"Now be quiet," I warned him.

"She's quite the little bitch, isn't she, David," Mom commented.

"Release my love!" Paul whined from the floor. "Please!"

The liquid had filled the cubicle up to Katie's waist.

"Let her drown," Mom made her opinion known, "In her own juices."

"Just continue the story, Katie."

"Okay, Paul. This thing seems to be some type of wish-granter. And your grandfather used it on your mother."

Paul nodded, eyes wide, as his mouth was filled with a fearful weapon that could go off again at any time.

"And you were going to use this thing on me! You DID use this thing on me!"

"Phlth rrrthie!"

"Okay. Take your cock out of your mouth and finish your story. But you better not piss me off, or I'll have you put it back in your mouth and stroke."

I woke when the bedroom door opened at 2:00. Mom stepped out and walked quickly up the hall. I got up and followed her to the kitchen.

"Mom?"

"Go back to your bedroom, Paul. Momma's busy." She lit a burner on the stove.

"What are you doing, Mom?"

"This thing has GOT to be destroyed!" She had grandpa's stick!

I snatched it from her hand. "Mom! No!"

"Paul! Give me that!"

"It's Grandpa's!"

"It's evil!"

"You can't take it. It's Grandpa's!"

She snatched at it, but I held her back.

"I wish you'd calm down and tell me what it is about this thing."

"I... uhm..." Mom walked over and sat down in a chair. "I... can't, Paul. It's too embarrassing."

"C'mon, Mom. What could make you steal something of Grandpa's and try to destroy it?" I turned off the burner she had lit.

"Paul, I just can't tell those things to you."

"You have always done this, Mom. You clam up and then won't tell me stuff. I wish you HAD to tell me!"

Suddenly, she stood, cast off her robe, stepped away from the table, spread her arms and legs, and stood there, naked, a slow drip coming from between her legs, wetting the floor.

"OhGOD, Paul! What have you done now?!"

The tone in her voice scared me. "What?! What have I done?!"

"You've loosened my brain! That's not lubricant leaking out onto the floor, Paul, that's spinal fluid! And I need to tell you about the penis before my brain slides down my spine, then squips out on the floor, leaving me just a brainless, sex-starved whore!"

"Mom?! What?!"

"Hush, Paul. I need to tell you about the penis."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well..."

I was eighteen. Your aunt Elizabeth was twenty. Daddy had gotten hyped up about one of those yoga fads in the mid '70s and had spent two weeks away at a retreat.

Lizzie and I made a big dinner to celebrate his return home. Since Mom had passed away ten years before, the three of us had been a close-knit family and my sister and I, even though we were adults, had missed Daddy while he was gone.

When he got home, Lizzie and I were still preparing the meal. I remember that while he told us about the retreat,. he would keep reaching into his pocket and shutting his eyes for a few seconds, then he would continue talking. Lizzie complained that it was hot in the kitchen with all that food cooking.

Daddy started to tell her about how hot it had been at the retreat, then reached in his pocket and shut his eyes while he paused. Then he started talking about how humid it had been there too.

Lizzie fanned herself and declared that she was still hot. Then she just... slid her skirt right off and stood there, smiling, in her panties and blouse. "Much better!" she smiled.

"Lizzie!" I gasped. "You can't stand around like that! You're half naked!" I looked to Daddy, waiting for him to order her to pull her skirt back on to preserve her modesty.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and shut his eyes. I assumed he was composing the words to chastise her.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "It's not so bad for your sister to run around in her panties, now is it, Carol?"

"No... , " came out of my dry mouth, "No, I guess not, Daddy." I smiled. "I'm just being an old prude, aren't I?"

"In fact, it IS rather hot in here. Why don't you take your skirt off too?"

"NO, I don't THINK so, Daddy!" What a weird thing for him to ask!

I stepped to the stove to stir the beans and make sure the potatoes weren't boiling over, then took my seat again.

Daddy talked a little about how meager the meals were, reached in his pocket and shut his eyes, then started talking about all the flavors of teas they had.

"Well," I stood, "I gotta go piss before I make a puddle on the floor!"

"Carol?!" Lizzie gasped. "Your language!"

"Oops!" I held my fingers to my lips and giggled. "Sorry!" Then I trotted back to the toilet.

I removed my skirt, slid my panties down and released my bladder. Pulling my panties back up, I headed back to the kitchen to hear more of Daddy's adventures.

When I entered the room, Daddy and Lizzie jumped, startled, and it looked like Daddy was removing his hand from inside the back of Lizzie's panties.

My brow furrowed. That was impossible to even think of! Daddy would NEVER do something so improper as to touch Lizzie's behind!

"He, he," Lizzie twittered, her face dark red and hot. "We... uhm... you see... well, YOU look a lot cooler!"

I shook my head, not understanding what she meant.

She pointed at my lower half. "Looks like you got hot. You took off your skirt too."

I looked down, and, sure enough, I just had on my panties below my waist. "Well, I guess I did." I apparently had forgotten to put them back on after peeing.

"No matter," Daddy said. "It looks much more comfortable."

"It is," I smiled, then stepped over to stir the beans.

Daddy went on about the postures and stretches they demonstrated at the retreat.

"I'm still hot," Lizzie complained.

"Well, you're NOT taking off your blouse," I informed her.

"Why not? It's just the three of us here."

"Lizzie! That wouldn't be PROPER! DADDY's here!"

"Yes? And?"

"And it wouldn't be proper."

Daddy reached into his pocket again before talking about some of the breathing exercises. Listening to his exciting stories of how to collect prana, I walked over and stirred the beans. Scooping out a half spoonful, I walked over to Daddy. "What do you think?" I asked. "Are the spices okay? Too hot? Too sweet? I-- oops!" I spilled some of the bean gravy on the thigh of Daddy's pants. "Oh! I am SO sorry, Daddy!" I set the spoon of beans on the table.

Unbuttoning my blouse, I sank to my knees, then removed the garment and began blotting Daddy's thigh with it, trying to mop up the gravy before it stained his pants.

I looked up to see Daddy's eyes staring at my bra-covered chest. That was unusual -- Daddy didn't normally ogle my bra-covered boobs. But, then, Daddy wasn't normally shown my bra-covered boobs. But I didn't have time to address that. "This stain isn't coming out, Daddy. Take off your pants. I need to go get them soaking in detergent."

Daddy stood and removed his pants, which I took. Both Lizzie and I stood there in awe, our jaws hanging open. Daddy had a BULGE in his undershorts! A HUGE bulge. My brain wouldn't even work out what it MEANT, that he was standing here with his two daughters in... THAT condition!

"If you two ladies stare any harder, you're going to have to kiss it."

Both Lizzie and I immediately cast our eyes away. "I... uhm... ehr... I need to get these pants soaking."

"Hold on," Daddy said, taking the pants back from me. He pulled what looked like a stick with a knob at one end out of the pocket, then handed them back to me.

I walked the pants back to the washing machine, unable to get Daddy's... erection out of my mind! That... bulge! That BIG... bulge! I poured some detergent on the spot, accidentally spilling too much on it. Rubbing the soap into the stain, I realized I was close to panting! That... protrusion!

Could we be getting daddy... hard? No! I couldn't even think of that!

I walked back to the kitchen and saw that Lizzie had removed her blouse and was in just her panties and bra now. "Lizzie!" I frowned.

"Well, I'm hot," she stuck her lip out. "Reeeeeaaally hot! Sizzling, even. Steaming. And if you can do it, so can I."

She was right, I guessed. I was in my bra and panties too. Still... it just didn't seem right. Especially with Daddy so... bulged like that!

I checked the potatoes, then sat and listened to Daddy talk about ethical virtues that they taught at the retreat. While he did, I studied his crotch. That bulge was... enormous! It was just so...

Daddy was staring at me, and I realized I had been licking my lips...

"Having trouble paying attention, Carol?" he smirked.

"N-no. I was just... you were saying something about ethics."

"Well," he yawned before continuing. "I'm finally home. I'm going to get comfortable." He stood and removed his shirt.

Lizzie and I both sat there, mesmerized, slack-jawed, unable to tear our eyes away from that flagpole poking out in front of him.

"Well," Daddy said, shifting his hips from side to side, and smiling as our eyes automatically followed his crotch, "That feels a lot better. How about you, Lizzie? Wouldn't you feel better... unfettered... by that bra?"

Lizzie shook her head and focused on what he had just said to her. "Oh, no, I... couldn't."

"Oh, come on. You would feel so much freer."

"No, Daddy. Certainly not! Stripping to just my panties and bra is one thing, but to just let my boobs hang out like so much meat -- that just wouldn't be appropriate, Daddy!"

Daddy reached for the stick he had taken from his pants pocket and set on the table. "Hmmm... I said, Lizzie, wouldn't you feel better unfettered by that tight, constricting bra?" He opened his eyes and smiled.

The relief that showed on Lizzie's face was like that of a patient whose "six months left to live" turns out to be a misdiagnosis. It was okay! What Daddy was saying was okay! She reached behind, smiling softly, unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the floor.

"Lizzie?" I shrieked. "What are you DOING?!"

"What bout you?" Daddy smiled at me. "Wouldn't you feel better without that tight... binding... bra?"

"No! Certainly NOT! And Lizzie has to put hers back on NOW!"

"It's okay, Carol," Lizzie smiled sweetly. "It DOES feel MUCH better." She looked to Daddy and made eyes. "Much better!"