Chapter 22

"Dad!" Kris almost screamed. "You have to speak very firmly to Mother. Why ... why..."

"Stop sputtering, Kris, and get it out," I said.

Dad and I had been relaxing in his library late one Wednesday afternoon while Mom was off for her regular Bridge game at the club. Kris had been filling in for a missing player.

"It was awful!" Kris added without significantly enlightening either of us with respect to what was awful.

"We'll be asked to leave the club!"

"I don't think so, dear," Mother commented as she entered the room. "And you really do have a perfect pair of tits, Kristin."

"Would you believe it?" Kris sputtered. "Not only did she have me bare my breasts — in public, yet! — but she has the gall to ask me for some of my milk for her tea!"

"But you do it for Cam all the time," Mom responded calmly, "and it's so nice and sweet I don't even have to add any sugar."

"That's ... that's different. Besides ... It's at home, and—"

"Last week at that restaurant in New York?" Mother interrupted.

"That was after several glasses of wine," Kris grumped. "And most of the women there were half-dressed — at best — anyway. There were tits spilling out of tops all over the room ... And there were at least two girls dressed the way Tina was when she met Scott Harrington: One breast was completely bare."

"Your tits are so much nicer than theirs, too," Mom added. "And besides ... How many women have breasts that are so firm and self-supporting that they don't even need a bra when they're nursing? I ask you."

"But that wasn't all!" Kris complained. "Dad, Mom bared her breasts for everyone. We'll be asked to leave the club!" she repeated.

"I really don't think we will," Mom replied quietly but firmly.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because it would be ... unwise."

"And why would that be?" Kris persisted.

"Kristin, you're an attorney. How much do you know about the business side of the country club?"

"About as much as would rattle on the head of a pin," my wife replied. "I guess there's a share of stock involved that all regular members have to own, but that's about all. Oh, yeah ... There are the annual dues, too."

"How about the property?" Mom asked.

Kris just slowly shook her head.

Mom just grinned. "You're correct as far as you went," she said, "but you're missing something. You see, the club doesn't own the property it sits on; we do."

"Huh?" Kris gasped, utterly amazed.

"It's really funny, I guess," Mom continued; "but not very funny to some. You see, our families have owned that property forever. Way back when — about 90 years ago — some people thought that one of those then-new golf clubs sounded like a good idea. They felt they could raise the money for a clubhouse and stuff, but they needed a lot of land. I guess it was your father's great-granddad or some such who came forward. He owned a ton of land up here. Since the club organizers didn't have the money to buy the land, he gave them a land lease at a very nominal annual rental. And it's been that way ever since."

"But what's that have to do with asking us to leave?" Kris persisted.

"The land lease expired about 25 years ago..." Mom said with a grin, "and it's never been renewed."

"But the club's still there," Kris said, looking very puzzled.

"Yes, it is," Mom responded, "but they've been month-to-month ever since. Way back when, they wanted to renew the lease for 99 years. The family just dragged their feet and just asked for the continuation of the quite nominal monthly rent. And that's exactly the way it still is. So anyway, asking us to resign could mean the immediate eviction of the club and our take-back of our land ... with all leasehold improvements thereto."

"You mean... ?"

"I mean!" Mom replied, underscoring her words.

Kris started to giggle. "How many people know about the land-lease thing?" she asked.

"Everyone who has ever served on the Board of Governors knows it." With her eyes dancing Mom added, "Dad and I always make sure that they do."

Then she mused, "You know ... Someday I'm going to have your dad fuck me on the table at a nice formal dinner dance. It would be such fun!" Then she nodded firmly and added, "Yep. That's exactly what we'll do. And I think I'll be in my really noisy mode, too, counting my orgasms in as loud a voice as I can manage."

"But why did you show your tits?" Kris asked.

"To drum up more business, of course."

"More business?"

"Oh, dear ... I guess I never told you, did I? Well, you're always referring to my Magic Machines. You do, don't you?"

"I guess so," Kris admitted.

"Well, that's why I bared my tits," Mom said, as if the relationship between her tits and her machines was self-evident.

"It's not at all clear to me," I interjected. "Please explain."

"Well, it's simple ... Sort of. I guess I'm getting a little tired of ordering dozens of machines ... for no money! So ... I decided to go into business. Kris and the girls are helping me with the advertising."

"We are?" Kris exclaimed, amazed. "And just how are we doing that?"

"By being who you are," Mom replied. "That's all." Then she smiled warmly and continued, "Can I help it if I mother the most beautiful, the best-conditioned women on the planet? And you are, you know. All of you.

"Anyway, now I'm the distributor for Westchester County for Female Fitness, Inc." She grinned and added, "And sales are really booming, too."

And they were. And they did. That conversation was in late August. By December, Mother was the distributor for upstate New York (excluding the City) and for all of New England. She and the girls were by then moving the exercise machines by the truckload.

But it was early in October when Mom and Dad appeared unannounced at our place. Little Bit and Ann were at cheerleading practice along with Diane Smith and we were alone.

I took one look at Mother and saw something was very wrong. At least she looked very concerned about something, and since I knew she was expecting a baby after the first of the year, I was concerned, too.

I managed to control my curiosity, though, and made drinks for everyone. By then, I had known for some time about the rather peculiar pregnancies the girls had, and the fact that the pregnancy characteristic was transferrable, as was the hair control.

Finally we were seated with Mom and Dad sitting together on the leather sofa in the library while Kris and I sat on flanking side chairs.

"What's the trouble, Mom?" I asked. "Looking at you and Dad, it's apparent that something is."

"It's not trouble, exactly..." Dad began. "In fact, I guess it's pretty good. But it's weird."

"What's weird?" Kris asked.

"Do you remember Susan Dawson's comments at the Lincoln Center concert about us?" Mom asked.

Kris and I exchanged looks and both nodded.

"Well, she said Dad had me in orgasm for only two hours the night before."

"Okay. And... ?" I prompted.

"Last night it was almost four," she replied, blushing. "And ... and ... we pulled an all-nighter, too. My God!" she moaned, "My poor pussy will never be the same! And no sleep..."

"Now look here, Martha Harris, I was sleeping soundly when I was rudely awakened ... by you! Now what do you have to say about that?"

"That wasn't my fault," Mom retorted. "I couldn't help it if I had an itch I couldn't scratch. But your cock is so much longer ... I mean ... Hell, I would have had to shove my whole hand up my twat ... Disgusting!"

"And Susie teased her about being a full second off the American men's record swimming 400 meters?" Dad reminded us.

Again we both nodded.

"Yesterday she took a full five seconds off the world record," he said softly. Then looking at us both he continued, "And then we got the results of our recent physicals. Mom wanted to see how the baby is doing. Well ... We found out."

"And... ?"

"Marty Harris is in perfect shape ... for a 19-year-old," Dad declared.

"And you, Dad?" Kris asked.

"I'm in top shape ... for a guy of 21."

"It's happened!" Kris nearly screamed. Jumping from her seat she knelt in front of Mother and extended her hands, palms up.

Seeing it, I realized it was an exact repeat of the way she had greeted her twin sister, Jean, months earlier. Seemingly without any thought, Mother extended her arms, palms down and the two women grasped each other's forearms. I could actually see electricity flowing between them.

Still without saying a word, she did the same thing with Dad, who fortunately was wearing a golf shirt. The same thing happened. Then she came to me. I slipped off my jacket, rolled up my shirt sleeves and grasped her forearms. When the electric sensation was repeated, Kris looked utterly joyous. "It's happened! Oh, God, it's happened!"

"What happened, Daughter?" Mom asked. "You seem to know."

"Mom and Dad, you are our Mom and Dad. Really! It just happened the way it happened to Jim Dawson."

"What's that mean?" Dad asked.

"It means that you've all been adopted — or something — by the folks back home. It means now you have all of the same powers that we have. But you have some more, too."

"Like what?" Mom asked.

Kris briefly explained some of the powers: the computer-like memory and indexing, long-range hearing, and the ability to lock on any conversation when a speaker was in sight. "But I'm pretty sure there's more. For example, what are Kim and Judy talking about?"

"They're just yakking about a couple of ... My God!" Mom yelped. "They're in Kim's car and they're miles away... !"

"That's a part of the Mommy Filter," Kris explained with a grin. "You just automatically track whatever your children are doing. It just registers and records, essentially in background. But if anything happens — or if anything is said — that you need to know, you'll know it at once."

"But you and Cam... ?" Mom asked.

"I'm not sure, Mom, but I think it shuts down when the kids get married." She smiled warmly and added, "You'll also be able to communicate with Dad mentally. And you'll be hard-wired to your baby. She moves and you'll know it instantly." Then with her eyes still dancing she frowned and added, "Oh, dear..."

"Oh dear, what?" Dad asked.

"Remember you were teasing me about marrying my brother? Well, guess what? That's exactly what I did. And DNA testing would prove it, too." Then she grinned and added, "But as I said at the time, 'vice is nice, but incest is best'."

"What about ... Diane?" Mother asked softly.

"I don't know for sure," Kris replied, "But I would be willing to bet that she reacts the same way."

And so she did.

And it didn't take long to find out, either. A short time later, Diane came in with smoke coming out of both ears. "I'll kill him!" she growled. "By God, I'm going to kill him!"

Mom reached out to Diane in the same way Kris had reached out to her. And Diane responded in the same manner, extending her arms with her palms down. As they gripped forearms, we all could see the electricity as well as a shocked look on Diane's face. "My God!" she exclaimed. "What was that?"

"Welcome to the Harris family ... my darling daughter," Mom said softly. Then she took the girl into her arms and kissed her.

It was utterly unreal. We could see accumulated stress and even residual terror from her raping pour from her body as the two were locked together in a very passionate embrace. Finally, Mom let go, but only to take Diane over to Dad who repeated the same thing.

"What happened?" Diane finally stammered.

"As of right now, Diane Smith Harris, you are physically perfect. Furthermore, you now have a whole series of new powers your brand-new sisters will be delighted to tell you all about. But in the meantime, you had smoke coming out of both ears and were threatening murder. Who are you going to kill, and why?"

"That utterly insufferable Steven Chamberlain is who!"

For some reason, neither Mom or Dad seemed the slightest bit upset. Later, I learned from Kris why: "Because, turkey, Sister Diane is madly in love with the guy, but won't even admit it to herself. Especially not to herself."

"Steve Chamberlain... ?" I murmured.

"That's the name," Kris agreed.

"Oh, dear! This is going to be very funny ... I think." I thought for a few moments, reviewing what I knew and what I had heard about Steve Chamberlain. Then it all came into sharp focus: that mental computer and indexing power at work.

"Honey," I began, "Steve Chamberlain has almost as much money as I do. Furthermore, he was a Rhodes Scholar and has his doctorate in history from Oxford, but he's teaching locally ... on the basis of only having his BA." Then I grinned and added, "Oh, yeah ... He coaches football, too. I'll bet—"

"I don't believe this!" Kris squealed. "I'll bet he made some crack to Diane about her cheerleaders..." She giggled and added, "And I'll bet I know what he said, too."

"What's that?" I asked.

"He probably said something about needing more tits and ass on the squad. Diane has those girls in top physical condition — all of them — and they have beautifully tight buns and very firm tits..."

"Like my bride?" I asked

"Cam, I'm trying!" Kris wailed. "I thought ... I thought that when I gave birth to Billy, I would finally have a nice pair of tits, but they're the same as they always were—"

"—utterly gorgeous!" I completed. "Kristin Harris, you are utter female perfection on two lovely feet ... Even if you can't wear 4-inch heels."

"But I will, darling!" Kris quickly said. "I don't care if I have to cut off my feet, I'll wear them."

"You will like hell!" I insisted. "Besides..." I sniffed, "I like you barefoot and pregnant ... and I particularly like you bare-assed naked!"

"Nipple rings?" Kris asked diffidently. "A ring through my clitoral hood? A few tats, maybe?"

"Female perfection on two lovely feet," I repeated. "You, wench, will leave perfection alone! Clear?"

"Yes, Master," she said, trying to control her giggle. "You were very clear."

Diane and Steve Chamberlain? Oh, yeah ... Kris's explanation turned out to be exactly what he had said to her. And then he pinched her ass, to which she retaliated by groping his cock and balls ... and getting a big surprise when she found how big he seemed to be.